I won't be one of those recommending...

This is my favorite church in South America so far (Salta, Argentina), actualy it's a cathedral- and it must be everyones favorite because it was packed for all the masses- not that I went to all of them, but they have like 8 masses on Sundays and it was like church at Christmas, people standing in the isles and outside the doors.
Here is an example of a typical Bolivian women and the way she dresses. This girl is only 15 years old and 100lbs, but you could never tell, could you? Check out the fancy gold shoes, the skirt, shall, sweater, and extra blanket for the kid.
Here you can see yet another example of Bolivian womens dressing style. The hat, the shall, the full skirt- this is in La Paz, some sort of demonstration about something or another.
Here is a little 5 month old beautiful Bolivian bundle hanging out in the usual comfortable spot when not on the mothers back. You can find these bundles almost anywhere- in a shop (like this one) one the streets, under tables, in boxes...

now for my entry:
Almost immediately I was disappointed, I had to get out as soon as possible. The taxi driver took me to the wrong hotel… a really, really expensive hotel “no sir, it’s not Sucre Hotel, it’s HI Sucre Hostal- the place I repeated to you 6 times to make sure you got it right- please take me to the cheap hostal. And by the way, I won’t be paying you more money for YOUR mistake.” Well, he didn’t oblige and assured me that another hostal around the corner was much better. OK man, just let me out of your ugly, smelly taxi.
Sucre was much lacking in the restaurant department, come to think of it, it was just plain lacking. For being a capital of a country it was completely unimpressive, all 35,000 people. Bolivians seem to love it and consider it their most beautiful city- the white city, with mostly white buildings, but it was laughable for a capital, I much preferred La Paz. After my breakfast of scrambled eggs (my least favorite egg preparation) with fatty bacon and rock hard toast I decided to check out what times the buses left to a different city. Souvenirs were doubly expensive compared to La Paz (a great city) and I decided that I would have a taxi driver drop me off at a good restaurant for lunch- just something simple, a sandwich or soup. He left me on a street that “was packed with restaurants” and I walked up it and down another finding exactly 3 restaurants, all with a set lunch of chicken, rice, fries and salad. I ended up at the same restaurant I ate breakfast at and got the next bus out of town. I spent exactly 6 hours in Sucre, it was 6 hours too long.
The bus would take me to Potosi (truly an asshole town) and I would get an overnight bus to arrive at Villazon, a border town with Argentina, in the early morning. I was skipping the salt flats- probably a mistake, but I was ready to get out of Bolivia. I realized on the first bus that in my rush to get out of Sucre I left behind my newly purchased, never used, charging batter charger in the hostal that I never slept in. AHHH!!! What a joke! And the worst hadn’t yet come. I was inside the office of the bus line purchasing my ticket and someone managed to grab my money, and more importantly my bank card and brand new coin purse. Fabulous, so now I had exactly 60 bolivianos (~$7) the change from my 100 note and no card to access any money from ATMs. Sure, the police tried to help me and slowly asked one guy to come to their office so they could search him. But for all I know about Bolivia the police could’ve taken my stuff, or the office personel… or any number of crappy people hanging around the ticket office. I went outside and started bawling. What was I going to do in the middle of South America with no money and no access to money? I was going to get the f*%#!k out of Bolivia, that’s what I was going to do. I already had my ticket and I got to the border town around 7am. Of course it was Saturday and the Villazon banks that were open didn’t accept the Visa logo. I had 15 Colombian pesos ($6) that no one would change and luckily remembered that my favorite sister, Pam, slipped $20 into a prayer book she sent me months back. YESSS! I changed that over and got myself into Argentina. I’ve never been so happy to leave a country. I filled a water bottle with fresh OJ, bought a few packs of energy filled peanuts, got a large bread and 3 slices of cheese, and slid down some freshly grease-boiled empanadas before my bus left. I had to ration my food for the day- all of it came to a whopping $1.30. I was doing good.
Once on the Argentinian side, I could tell everything would be better. The buses didn’t have families cramped in the isles with their evil cats, they didn’t have an odor of wet molding alfalfa, digested corn farts, rotten non-brushed teeth, and stinky, stinky B.O. Instead the seats were filled only to capacity and the smells were pleasant with air fresheners…the people didn’t have animals with them, in their place they had flowers, yes flowers! The landscape was nice and I even got through a book I had been thinking about reading since Prague.
On the bus to Salta, Argentina I had a front row seat on the top decker- a great view coming into the city and once off the bus I was greated by a fine looking fellow who said he had a free taxi waiting for me to go to a cheap hostal near the center—say no more my man, I’m in! Turns out this hostal is just the ticket!!!! It’s run by 4 Argentinian guys all my age, I have kitchen access, internet, and a living room with comfy bean bags. I went right away to the grocery store for some water and other cheap eats. Since it was right around the corner I didn’t bother to brush my teeth first. Of course I saw 6 of Argentina’s finest in this tiny store- one of which, after searching for just the right apples and dropping some on the ground, helped me pick them up. Too bad I couldn’t look him in the face when I spoke to him. Today (I like to be modest, but I can’t help it) I made the most fantastic pasta- complete with spinach, peppers, tomato, and the best beef on the planet- I will eating that $4 monster helping of pasta for days to come. Fortunately I put plenty of garlic and onion so the guys keep their distance- I can’t get too attached to this place
Tomorrow I hope to get some help from the bank here so I can call and talk to my birthday brother Mark. Happy belated birthday to you brother and cousin Gina too! Have a scary Halloween everyone and to my nephews and nieces- make sure you brush your teeth before you go to bed :)