el Tren de Muerte

It sounded a bit scary when Ben, Nate and I were told we were going to be riding by ourselves on the Death Train for twenty hours, but also adventurous. We were told it was given the name because of the high numbers of deaths resulting from that train ride. It was mostly because of individuals transporting their goods from one area to another, storing their belongings below, in the seats they had purchased, they rode on top of the train. Because the train is nowhere NEAR a smooth ride, jerking over the tracks, screeching to a jolting halt every once in a while, many would lose their balance, falling off to their death. Another reason was because of the frequency of the train de-railing... killing several. The last time my uncle wanted to ride the train, that is exactly what had happened to it before he'd gotten on, and he had to take a bus. But, we were assured in the last few years it had really improved, and such things rarely happened any more...

Thinking we were going to be able to store our luggage in some luggage storing place on the train, we had brought all our own things, as well as another humungous, heavy one containing everyone's _ extra things_ with us. The fact Mom, Dad and Anna could only carry 50 pounds a piece on the plane was another reason for us to take as much as we could. Walking down the pathway next to the train, lugging our baggage we looked for our car. After walking half the length of the very long train, we found it. Then, realized all our luggage was going to need to be with us. Between the three of us we loaded up all the bags, putting them in overhead shelves, hoping either the jerkyness of the train wasn't as bad as we'd be warned, or the racks were more sturdy than they appeared. The car we were in appeared very empty. Besides the three of us, there was only a couple, and a lady with her two young daughters.

We spread out, each in a different row of seats. The train was hot, especially when it was sitting at a station, and the seats were made of a fabric that seemed to absorb the heat. Pretty soon, the engines started up, and the train jolted to a start. Soon, we were going at a pretty constant speed, and the wind begun to circulate, cooling everyone down. It was fun to just sit with your feet sticking out the window in front of you (ignoring the signs saying to keep all objects inside :S ), staring out into the jungly/foresty landscape. Every once in a while, there would be an opening in the trees, where a herd of white Brahma cows would be grazing peacefully, or a garden with rows upon rows of hand planted choclo (large, tough, corn) swaying slightly in the wind caused by the passing train.

Soon, the sky began to become more and more overcast. The black thunderheads began to loom above us, then splat! The huge droplets began to pelt us through the windows. The three of us didn't want to close the windows, because it was still way too hot, but one of the train worker people came around shutting them all. Now we were damp, hot, and closed in.

By the time the storm passed, it had cooled down, and the sunset was beautiful. All the brilliant colors lighting up the sky, and the silver-rimmed clouds was awesome.

After a while, Nate got bored of just sitting, and we went together down through the other cars. As we walked, we looked drunk, swerving all over, accidentally bumping into people as we went, because of the bumpy train. Getting to the door of our car, pulling hard on the door, it swung open with a burst of wind, and we walked out onto a small platform. The next car's platform was only about a foot away, and you could see the hook, and loop that held them together. It was a bit scary jumping from one to the other, watching the tracks flash by below. We realized we must have bought a higher that lowest class ticket... the others were crowed, and instead of seats that leaned back (sometimes overly so, all the way down till they hit the seat behind them), they had straight backed benches. There were many more people in these cars, with much more baggage.

As we got further, the train stopped frequently, picking up more and more passengers. At these stops, all along the side of the train, young kids, and older women walked offering food, and drinks. You didn't even to look out to see what they were selling, each person, in their equally raspy, worn out vocal-cord (from calling out day after day) voices made it clear to all what they were selling. It was like (a unique kind of) music in our ears hearing Spanish again. Being able to understand everything (or most everything) being said. I can't imagine what it will be like to be back in the US!

We had a food bag with beef jerky (from Uncle Nathan) dry cereal, crackers and cookies as well as a couple two-liters of soda and water for the trip, but man did those empenadas, and barbecued chicken and beef sticks look appetizing! We ate the stuff we had, and drank the soda and water.

Then, when we finally decided to buy something, we realized Dad had only given us Bolivianos in hundreds and fifties (which are only roughly worth twenty and ten dollars, but the venders usually don't have change for those bills). We told Nate to buy something for all of us to break one of the fifties, so he bought a something to drink. It was a nasty transparent, brown, quinua (a nutritious filled, nutritious tasting, nutritious looking grain), chunky fruity liquid that looked, smelled and tasted like vomit. It was in little plastic bags, having a straw sticking out of the top, made with probably “unsafe” water. Ben bravely gulped it down, while Nathan told me if I drank half of the other he would finish it. After I practically gagged with the first half, Nate decided he really didn't feel like drinking the rest, and we threw it away. After Nathan was congratulated on his superb intuition on what would be best for the three of us, I was elected to buy the food from then on. We ate the cheese, and chicken empanadas, as well as the shishkabobs later that night. By dark, our car had really filled up, but each one of us were still in a pair of seats to ourselves. We slept with our heads on one end, and our feet hanging out the window to give us more room. We had a somewhat comfortable sleep (if you could call it that) until three AM, when we were awakened by the train jarring to a halt, the lights flickering on, a pumped group of young people who chattered endlessly, and the venders on the side of the train all took a second to register to the groggy brain. This is where I realized I wasn't in the right seat. I got kicked out, but in my seat, a little girl was fast asleep next to her mother. Her normal seat was across the aisle, next to a quite large, grumpy looking man. So, that was now my seat. Sometime in the night Nathan and Ben had also lost their pair of seats, and were now sitting in their assigned seats next to each other. I was so thankful to see the gentlemanly side of Nathan come out, and he offered to spend the rest of the night next to the scary man. The rest of the ride wasn't too comfortable& considering you felt bad leaning your seat back into the lap of the person behind you& while the person in front of you didn't feel the least bit apologetic and went right ahead.

The Sunday morning sunrise was beautiful. All sorts of colors bursting out of the sky. When we arrived at the station around 10, dad, a brother and his son were right there to help us unload the luggage, and carry it to the trufi. I kinda hobbled rushing out, because with my luck, I had stepped on a ginormous black bumble bee that was stuck in a plastic bag on the floor of the train, under my feet the night before. As we rode to the house, Dad filled us in on what was going on. First, he told us the day we left had been relaxing, and they were able to see a bit more of the Pantanal (well from the windows of a restaurant that is). But this was no normal restaurant. They ate crocodile, piranha, and I forget what the other strange things were. They had then gotten on a plane, and arrived in Santa Cruz a couple hours later.

As soon as they got in, they were updated on the news. A son of a family there in the Santa Cruz assembly had recently come back from Spain to visit his family, and had committed suicide a few days before, and his step-mother had just found him. So, from the plane they went straight to a funeral. My family had just met brother of the deceased, Samuel, in the conference of Montero a few months before (while I was in Ecuador), and he was really thankful my parents were there for the funeral. My parents had spent the night there in the house of the brother who had picked us up.

Another piece of pivotal information was the fact that there was a Dengue epidemic. Implying that over 65% of the Santa Cruz population had the malaria-like virus. The first time an individual gets sick, it is like a acute type of the flu. It can last up to two weeks or more. The victim gets very dehydrated, and has a high fever. The first time is bad, but after you get it once, the next occurrence is much worse. If not caught in time, the individual can hemorrhage, bleeding from their eyes, gums, nose, and fingertips. Dad decided that it wasn't necessary that we risk getting something like that, and we were informed that he had already purchased bus tickets out of there for the same night after spending the day in Santa Cruz.

We arrived at the two-story house, having a little internet café, and small market downstairs, and unloaded our bags. It was so nice to have a shower, after practically 24 hours on a dusty, dirty train. As soon as we were showered, and had gotten dressed it was time to leave to have lunch at Samuel's parent's house. The family was in a time of grieving, the funeral being the day before, but they thanked us over and over again for coming. The father of the family at a rural conference, and hadn't gotten the news of his son's passing, so that was hard for them too. I felt so bad, I really didn't know what I should, or could do for them. We had just been on a train all night, hadn't really gotten enough sleep, and none of us knew any of the family except for Samuel. You could tell all of them had been crying, and weren't feeling the best obviously. It got a little better by the end though.

From there we went to meeting. They had it in the afternoon there. It was another one of “well, if we re going to have three hours of meeting, why not have it continuous”! . Oh, it was so wonderful singing in Spanish once again. And here, they sang loud. I mean it was thunderous!

We talked for quite a while with those from the assembly before we were pushing it for time as usual. Back at the house we packed up, and headed for the bus station, and loaded a double-decker for Cochabamba, escaping the Dengue epidemic.