Intruder Firing On One Cylinder

Titicaca Copacabana - A dream. The support among travelers

course I left La Paz to Copacabana, visit the last district before crossing the border into Peru. N i even knew that Bolivia was a place with the same name that found in Brazil. We were playing small populations left in the road, but I just dropped it necessary to continue the journey. However, because along the way had heard wonders of the place where I was headed. Nothing made me guess what would be there, not even imagined. Only had warned me that since this place could take an excursion to Isla del Sol and Isla de la Luna (later I could not go to the latter) We left early, around dawn, the clear sky a cloudless blue color . As the days had passed and when he climbed higher and higher, the cleanliness of ether was evident. And no trouble breathing, and well-medicated I filled the breast of the mountain air, the smell of fresh grass at dawn and blinding colors of the landscape. The little information that Bolivia was the country convinced me that the west region which would, it was just dry and arid, but the bright green pastures warned me I was wrong. To this was added that over the miles or hid appeared again and see the distance a bit of Lake Titicaca and the horizon was fading into the imaginary unity of heaven with Lago.Llegamos to a pier, we had to cross in boat, raft passing vehicles. Lake was a part where it narrowed, thus saved many miles is unnecessary to go edging, in and out of Peruvian territory, which is why Desaguadero would see on the way back from the boat crossing Perú.El was nice, we reached the other side and got back in our respective transport to continue the journey. The miles seemed to feel it to where you looked, a wonderful spectacle presented to those ojos.Había many young people making the trip, most of them would only be passing through Copacabana, then went to camp on the Isla del Sol Some already knew the way and suddenly said: Look, there is Copacabana! In the distance, on a gentle slope that looked d Ince route were two hills in the middle a valley that was almost the shape of a plate leaning toward the lake, I caught a glimpse of the population at an altitude of 3800 meters. As a brooch pinned at the edge of the Titicaca and guarded by the hills, looked majestic in the sunlight. We descended on the small square of artisans, this day was celebrated as "the dance of the Wives" so the women wore brightly colored costumes. I went down and walk some youth group with whom to share the journey I said, if you have no where to stop, come with us, there is a hostel nearby, is simple but clean, there are many travelers and not get to sleep. And I followed. One suggested to wait the get the best price, because he knew the manager. Finally returned, they sat in three double and triple for the aunt (or I) a single room without breakfast (with shared bathroom), what all I have to pay? And started laughing. "If you want to be alone then you will have a lot more expensive than us, you must pay a dollar a day. I could not believe it was supposed to be mocking, but confirmed method price when entering the board. In fact, only had a bed, night table, a chair and a small wall shelf. The backpack on the bed until it's time to sleep, then passed it on to the chair, balancing to avoid falling. It was a small cell, but the comfortable bed and clean sheets, no longer needed. I have the habit just to get to know the local Church. I went to the main square to receive the blessing of Our Lady of La Candelaria, a beautiful white church with its finely carved doors. In the plaza, the band played lively music and had a huge number of pigeons, children and some adults fed and recorded in photographs. I walked a lot from business with crafts, paintings, bars, pubs, hotels. Almost all the streets were narrow, would result in decline in the lago.Jóvenes artisans (mostly foreigners) displayed their products, woven bracelets, made braids, painted items, pottery modeled cold, singing and laughing among themselves. I went to ask for prices, there I discovered a couple of Argentines who had been traveling from M exico six months ago, while touring the country. I watched with joy and anxiety consulted if I was carrying "mate". I took out the thermos and sat on the sidewalk cebarles a while. I promised to return in the evening bringing them a little gift mate it was enough to grant them a little. I suggested it was clear that Argentina, as (in some places) refused to meet the Chilean people, an issue which I solved by buying what fellow travelers from that country needed, but it was only in specific situations. In almost all cases are not generated inconvenientes.Por afternoon, we gathered in a nice bar that had chairs and tables made from tree trunks, ate pizza, drank hot chocolate (in the evening the wind coming from the lake is too cold) Or would assemble cookers to the shore of the lake while the sun was wrapped in blankets and coats, we sang, we had stories and excursions We planned heating the body with matte or taking a drink of rum, but already ten at night all way back to our respective homestays N: because the cold made it impossible. One day I rented a sailboat to sail on the Titicaca and take photographs of people from another perspective, Willy-the boatman, "only managed to take a picture where it appears part of my head, I finally gave up. I could not make him understand how the camera works, so I started to record the landscape, giving them out. The four-hour ride, I got two dollars. The next day make the trip to Isla del Sol and two days would cross the Peruvian border. Each day spent, I approached my main goal, Macchu Picchu, although not fail to recognize that not a single moment was wasted, the minutes and hours lived in this beautiful project, were impossible to forget. Until now, knowing Bolivia had been a fantastic experience. MONTERO Magui

NOTE: Photo1-Vista reaching Copacabana. Photo2-Copacabana from above, behind Lake Titicaca.

Photo3-Church of Our Lady of Copacabana - Photo4-A street in Copacabana, at the lake bottom -

Photo 5 - View of Pier Copacabana Photo 6 - View of Copacabana from Lake Titicaca.

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BOSTON CITY OF GOD

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BONE AND SHAME IN THE WORDS

Today someone grabbed Descartes and got rid of the tragedy. Body yielded to the infinite and cruel fate of the laws of matter and left the following immortal soul in eternity coding worlds, certainties and unchanging principles. Today someone believed in Plato and turned his smile. The spell of vaporized ideas for their loved ones, the spectra became angelic. Now imagine the field beyond, transcending the standards that we sense clumsy nature. In peace forever. Someone continues to suffer infinite loss tearing your heart to leave it without force ... is the counterpart of those who do not believe in the res extensa, or the res cogitans

Trillo should be read widely to Descartes to sleep peacefully; indoctrinated into a kind of Platonism to Thomas Aquinas sees no problem in the confusion and mixed infamous for the bodies of those killed in the Yak-42, their souls rest in peace is repeated, do not care what .

Now I understand everything. The moral of hijodeputa facade rests on the belief that our soul migrates it to heaven, or hell if you run the chance to be Muslim, and that is why his conscience would not punish them if they lead a country into a genocidal war or inefficiency corruption leads back the lives of innocents to their death in a seedy air. After all their souls go to heaven and holy Easter. The bodies are only important when people well, so his ideological father rests on a mountain with a very large cross. That look! That, that, that looks good for me to descry and curse and find the way to get it and knock it down and tell more of a trail over two and disdain that the vilest of murderers because that is what are.

For some as close as we can be of significance is touch. For some, the soul is not beyond the face and skin, lies in the finite body and become incalculable treasure, hungry faithful guardian to protect him even at the expense of his life: the body of your girlfriend, your father, your son, your friends, a warder do not let anyone insult you, that nobody cosifique ... their beautiful bodies back soulful arteries and joints. The intimate reason obliges them just burial, because it is not preparing its way to the afterlife, or to comply with the divinity, but whether his body became suddenly dry powder or ivy, in short waves at sea , air or land. Because then acquires the right to touch the thing you think they keep their words, their jokes and kisses. The families of those killed in the Yak-42 still await the meeting and parting. Some have lost forever the last embrace. His eyes hide unspeakable pain, pain that worsens the pride with which a generally describes the wrongdoing, the indifference with which a former minister and a former prime minister they neglect case.

I just hope one of these days the right of this country wake up naked in Descartes, and are choking the flag.

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LA PAZ - A city of contrasts.

I left Oruro in the early afternoon, the trip was beautiful, I felt comfortable, the scenery of the mountains at dusk, touches of gray areas in the valleys and the sky partially covered with clouds left sunbeams filter resembling golden threads, creating the feeling of a painting surrealista.Empezaba dark when I first saw in the distance, from above the city of La Paz, and small squares of colors lying in a deep hollow surrounded mountains. Began to descend gradually, the bus was making more frequent stops in different places as we went in the urban area and we kept going down the road lying on the mountain slopes surrounding the city. We entered La Paz, when it was dark. There was little movement, the terminal was almost empty, well lit, clean. The unusual design, high ceilings, benches, plants, numerous shops, closed at this time. I remembered some recommendations that I had actually care about my safety at night, and decided to leave the Ochil m in one of several local stores - bags that were open 24 hours. For a few coins received my luggage and gave me a numbered ticket. That allowed him keep it for a day; (de hecho que no pensaba en tenerlo más allá de las dos horas) pero la idea era moverme rápidamente hasta encontrar alojamiento en un lugar adecuado y seguro, antes de la medianoche. Eran casi las 11 p.m. cuando salí de la bella y amplia Terminal. Afuera, poco movimiento de vehículos; sin embargo, como en cualquier lugar del mundo, un grupo de taxistas esperaba potenciales clientes mientras fumaban y reían, conversando animadamente.Me acerqué a ellos y les expliqué que viajaba sola, no conocía la ciudad y necesitaba al ojarme en un lugar cómodo seguro, pero barato, pues no tenía demasiado dinero. (Es adecuado decir esto, cuando uno se dirige a un extraño en un lugar desconocido, the possibility of accidental contact with a person not good intentions), but immediately, several of them agreed in indicating a hostel that was near the front entrance, up the avenue. I was told it was a serious place, clean and safe. I crossed the street and walked to the entrance. The hostel was perched on a slope, had ladders for which was rising on small terraces with benches and plants. It was the Tambo de Oro, had rooms of various types and prices, according to the amenities offered. I ordered room, and returned to the terminal, where grateful for the attention to the group of taxi drivers who had recommended me. Was on his way to deposit luggage, I found a couple of jov enes in the central hall almost deserted; looked at both sides, disoriented and looking worried. I approached them and told them if I could help. Honeymoon came, came from Chile, did not know the city and had no accommodation, so I loaded my bags and took them with me, to be installed in the same hostel. From then on, a good part of journey to Macchu Picchu were my fellow adventurers and made several trips together. We tried lunch and buy souvenirs. The next morning I started my tour of La Paz, walking and taking photographs, my heart beat as drum, was agitated, ears were ringing me, I could not breathe and a headache not let me go despite taking aspirin. At the time of breakfast coffee with milk, butter, jam and two rolls (the kind that we use for burgers) - I mentioned my discomfort to the employee who served breakfast. I asked if it was plain area and when I said you afirmativamen told me that is the sickness. Go to the pharmacy, will sell you some pills to be taken every day in the morning, and not bother more. Wise words! I bought a box and the rest of the trip in Bolivia and Peru I did not feel anything strange. Certain times sucked coca candies also took a cup of this tea I served not only as a palliative for the altitude sickness, but as a digestive when I was a binge comidas.La Bolivian capital welcomed me with open arms, was an ancient city , with beautiful balconies and ornate houses in front of the last century, who lived with large modern buildings. Wide roads, which crossed with narrow cobbled streets. Dry places stunning in contrast to other full of colorful flowers. A lot of people, impress you amount of stalls. Maddening traffic and disorganized. The bombastic chatter of foreigners and the soft murmur Quechua or Aymara natives. The elegance and simplicity of men and women in business, with colorful embroidery of traditional costumes of layered skirts and felt hats. A place of contrasts, to enjoy it filled the eyes of history, scenery and strong flavors, spicy, as strong as the impact of different cultures mixed in the daily office of peaceful coexistence. Aboriginal footprint was strong, the influence of European migration as well, the result was beautiful frontispieces Beautifully ornate filigree and a culture worthy of being and revealed to the world. It was question of discovering the heart of Bolivia, in this city whose name sounded like an offering and prayer: La Paz. Montero Magui

NOTE: Photo 1 - San Francisco Church. Photo 2 - Government House.

Photo 3-National Congress. Photo 4 - stone monument near San Francisco Church

Photo 5 - A street in La Paz - Photo 6 - Detail of stone carving on the façade of the Iglesia San Francisco

Parts Of A Sailing Ship Diagram

Arrival in Oruro. Music, fun and landscapes

was about 7.30 am when the train arrived in Oruro. I went down with the rest of the passengers and I went to the baggage-car can not take anything in the passenger car, except for a small bag and coats. Containment fences and put behind them bags, backpacks, boxes unloaded personnel. Each person with his ticket in hand waited until they controlled the numbers and delivered. I preferred that most of the passengers pulled the bags, because in no hurry. The sun shone in a cloudless sky, but it was cold. She went out with a map of the city had asked the tourism office of the station. Standing on the sidewalk, deciding the direction to take, I saw several carts installed, where people from the city to fencing to take what should be breakfast. . A rich aroma of cinnamon, vanilla and cloves came from there. The people standing received a bowl and spoon with what appeared to be a broth or soup hot, accompanied by tempting-looking rolls, others looked like being fried cakes. Curiosity led me to ask what was and they said, is "api" is "tojori", words that did not add anything to my limited knowledge of food, beverages and desserts regional Bolivians. I was tempted to order them, but I wanted to find out what it was before you taste them. I noticed a girl who relished what seemed to be a compote of peaches, and I started walking, thinking how different it was our breakfast. He was hungry and the perceived aromas I remembered that for several hours did not eat anything, but first look for accommodation. He had scored two or three possible sites, the difference in price was due to the type of services and distance from downtown. I started by going to the cheapest, but after visiting two or three and not get all I realized I had made the mistake of not making a reservation, it was shortly before the carnival and also celebrated the birthday of the city. The city was bustling with tourists, photographers, journalists who came to seek to register the Carnival of Oruro Diablada. Finally, I was starting to worry about finding room in a Hotel quite luxurious, that was the most expensive of the options as I indicated, but when I asked the price, was not well. Beautifully designed and decorated, the room was spacious, with antique furniture, the dining room with columns and construction designs reminiscent of the "Belle Époque." When I went to breakfast I said I was free. It was a party to see all kinds of shawty fairly complete, well dispersed in a large table decorated, where you could serve sweets, cheeses, meats, juices, fruit, yogurt, coffee, tea, milk and assorted muffins. I was happy reach this beautiful city at the right time, in Street schoolchildren in their uniforms and supplies, improvised battles with water balloons outside the school. Duran you two days, countless bands with colorful uniforms interpreted songs in the main plaza and an amphitheater - which is also used for the dance of the groups, during the carnival. Oruro in the market, accompanied by a couple of Argentines could prove "api" and "tojori" accompanied by cheese-filled pastries called. Different foods are made with corn meal and cooked with spices, sweetened with sugar or honey. The color (red, yellow or almost purple) depends on the type of corn. It contains many nutrients, similar in preparation As in Argentina known as "mush." In one of my trips, I went to meet the Church of Our Lady of the tunnel, patron saint of miners, nestled in the hills, whose story is worthy of listening to the historical implications that has. Within the same church I visited the Museum of the Tunnel, that part of the interior d the temple. Toured the galleries, "belong to an old mine that is no longer in operation, and stores instruments, memorabilia and even the image of" Uncle "is a doll made with demonic features and costume. It means the spirit of the mine, and is at the entrance to the galleries. According to popular belief, miners must usually leave a small gift (candy, cigarettes, coca leaves) for permission to enter the interior of the mountain and take their treasures. I marveled visiting the Museum of Masks, located next to the Church of the Tunnel . Some masks are very valuable, are of all sizes, designs and colors, from some ancient being made by craftsmen in metal, ceramic-encrusted costumes and feathers to the most varied and exotic models. Oruro is a beautiful, ancient, traditional, happy, with stunning landscapes. I walked to the lighthouse of the city, where you can see all the beauty of Oruro located in a sort of dry / Terrace Plaza. At the foot of the lighthouse, there is over-reliefs with shields d and each of the Bolivian provinces, including one that was lost in the war against Chile. I kept rising and reached to the highest point of Oruro, where the cross overlooking the city. Walking around town is a beautiful experience, turn your head to where the landscape is different. I did walk, because I was several days. The effort is significant and the slope of some streets, coupled with the lack of habit of being too high, "is 3,075 meters above sea level, ends agotando.Por night, in the days before the celebration of Carnival, is heard band music, the sound of fireworks, firecrackers and sparklers, causes people to the sidewalks. On the streets, groups that participate in the event, they tend to dance with colored uniforms, bells on clothes and hats. (Gala costumes and masks are used only for dancing during the 4 days of carnival) A previous parades are called "treats." On 1 Treat takes place on Friday nights and Saturday two weeks before, the 2 nd Treat night Friday and Saturday from a week prior TES. The significance is to make a call or invite people to participate in the party. I also know that in both Bolivia and Peru, while de los años, el Carnaval no es una fiesta estrictamente pagana, pues a través del proceso de evangelización se mezclaron lo que antiguamente eran eventos de agradecimiento a la Pachamama y pedido de protección en las siguientes cosechas; con el agradecimiento y la bendición de la Virgen. Por ello durante el carnaval se danza llevando la Imagen de la Virgen de La Candelaria, o se la coloca presidiendo los actos. También se le da significado de la lucha del bien y del mal. Por ello en los desfiles hay imágenes representativas de ángeles y demonios. Oruro me había fascinado, pero era hora de partir; debía seguir camino. Esta vez iría en ómnibus. La ruta era buena, el trayecto no demasiado largo y deseaba conocer el paisaje while still ascending. Further north, closer to the height. My next destination was La Paz, 3,650 meters. Montero Magui

NOTE: Photo 1 - Festival of Bands. Photo 2 - 2 º Treat Carnival.

Photo 3 - Faro de Oruro. Photo 4 - View of the City from the Lighthouse.

Photo 5 - A street that goes to the Tunnel. Photo 6 - at the Monument to the Miner.

Photo 7 - Church of Our Lady of the Tunnel. Photo 8 - Entering Mining Museum

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I tired the words in a naive attempt to hold back on metaphor, for draw you into the leathery syntax. Hurried, I have limited the endless wilderness with a clumsy semantics if you just bring me short, cloudy, turn dark spectrum, alien ghost. Compelled by ignorance to make rival of the rose and the morning, I thought, deceived, see your coming back ... that is hidden in your strange loving way, that is, you guess your infamous treachery that where I go or cowardly hyena and continue to kiss, to become early victims, ceremonial body.

He transformed every hyperbole alchemical gesture, every memory in unexpected adjective. The phrase I hid the shame and I have become castle fortress and turning it over time, empezándote again. Again the chance encounter, the complicity ... again you away from the mask, away from the impostor, undoing the border, taking shape in prose, coating the meat page and capillaries ... siesta far cry, blew himself up touch, sense and you hurl the cherish in an impromptu paraphrase in an unusual spell.

is the night and the streets. Things that give you the voice, handling the adverb comes suddenly. Here we are: in the time outside, in the name space. Soft write our history, I imagine their ephemeral avatars ... and again the fragrance, laughter, and innocence petrified in the comparison, in the grass dancing in the breeze whip.

The words are what brought you, are you back. I guess at the rapid verb in the sentence closed. I bare the violence of the paragraphs sing ruin. And your body is twisted, it is I you know? I'm loving you in the dark, rhythm and color ... I am ... an imperfect language, a song you are looking desperate. On the scaffold

strange day without you I have committed a single place where you get on my side, determined to tell me where you walk, where I become part of your life ... between the commas and silences echo becomes everything left, stands the sound of what we are. Here I'm combining the body, recalling the heat, saliva and liturgy. Forcing the verse to see you; kept overnight to feel puns. In the short sound of the things I hid my love you silent. Breaking the distance forever. Mia making it in words.

Reverend and dear

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The crossing into Bolivia - From Villazón north by train

At 6.30 I got up and took a hearty breakfast. Should go early to the border, and later abandoned began arriving tourist groups and the wait seemed interminable. I loaded my things, left the hotel and started walking down the streets of La Quiaca toward the border with Bolivia. I took down the avenue that led to the immigration offices in Argentina, before the barrier. Then walk just 200 meters when I listened to the endless comings and goings of people, looked like a long line of industrious ants carrying large bundles on their backs. Evidenced to be locals, by ethnic background and clothing. Crossed the border to either side, almost running, bent by the weight of goods, boxes, etc. Stood there, shocked and distressed. There seemed to be devoted to people who buy things for their consumption or business. I did not know what it was, but I explained that it was cheaper to pay a few coins to load and unload goods on either side, for the delay which meant crossing a transport vehicle. As if they were animals load the back inclined to have something else to survive, as native African carriers (I'd seen in movies), this occurred only at the border between my country and a neighboring country ... hurt, hurt mucho.Saqué some photos, mostly when I perceived his back and hid his face, did not insist and kept going. The first group had already arrived and I placed in a row I had over 50 people. Anyway, to save time, traveled by giving employees the forms to be filled out until we play the turn and it took me no demasiado.Unos hundred feet ahead was Bolivian migration, and Villazón side, where he was to meet similar process. There was chaos, screams and he unsuccessfully tried to organize some officials in the office had no more than twenty-four square feet and struggled to get a hundred people. Yet we received me graciously and vacated by no more than half an hour. Looked at both sides of im hustling amount of money exchange and commercial activity that was three times what he saw argentino.Cambié side money without major problems and started walking. I knew that this street was about twelve blocks the terminal groups and a little beyond the train station. I wanted to know schedule, prices and days of departure of a train to take me to Oruro, if he got passage, but the alternative was to travel by bus, but told me that the routes were poor and much delayed. In front of me walked a few steps with her backpack also a young boy with long hair to his shoulders, beige pants with multiple pockets that I think used as an annex to the backpack. He had first seen in the immigration office and hear him speak I knew I was coming from Buenos Aires.Apuré step, said hello and I said his name was Hernan, already knew this trip because it was the second trip that he did, again Vacation at Salar de Uyuni, where I had a friend. I dij or should know, that was very beautiful and was on his way. I promised that my next trip would be to that destination (which I turned and made a few days) but wanted to get to Macchu Picchu and did not want to deviate. To be aware of this part of the way, I accepted suggestions, we talked a while, share mate and sandwich at the station while waiting for the train and finally started the journey at five in the tarde.Había actually four categories of tickets. He suggested I take the second category (counting from low to high, because I do not remember the name they had), gladly took his advice, because they were somewhat expensive. He feared that the travel conditions were not good but great was my surprise to see the cars and seats in good condition, music, television, air conditioning. You could eat, drink coffee, soda or sandwich sold by the canteen staff, who went through the cars, or opt for dinner or snacks are served in the dining car. I ate a sandwich (rich, well presented and sealed in a transparent box disposable). Later we went to drink beer with Hernán accompanied with some things to nibble on the dining room. We found another group of Argentine tourists we spoke animatedly for a long time, then returned to my seat. Hernán woke me to say goodbye, was about one o'clock, we were getting to Uyuni, I wanted everything to be well and enjoy the trip. I greeted him through the window and the train started again. He had found a friend who had guided and helped me. Expected that any further and further. It was dawn when I began to glimpse the lake Popp. We were approaching Oruro. Magui

Montero

NOTE: Photo 1-Frontera La Quiaca (Arg) / Villazón (Bol) Argentine side. Photo 2-Idem.

Picture 3 - Frontera Villazón (Bol) / La Quiaca (Arg) Bolivian side. Photos 3 and 4 - Lake Popo Bolivia

Community Hour Letter Template

Speech by King Leopold II in the arrival of the first missionaries to the Congo

countrymen, the task entrusted to us to meet demand is very sensitive and tactful. You are here to evangelize but to do so you must inspire above all in the interests of Belgium.
The main purpose of our mission in the Congo is not to teach black people to know God, they already do: they talk and are subject to Mungu, Nzambe, Nzamkoba, and I know myself. Know that to kill, sleep with other women, slander and assault is wrong, wrong. Have the courage to say, not going to teach you something you already know. Your main purpose is to facilitate the tasks to managers and entrepreneurs. For they must interpret the gospel in the way that most benefits our interests in this part of the world. To do this you will have to, inter alia, promote disaffection among the natives of the riches hidden beneath the floor if necessary, and avoid the temptation to become a murderer to evict them and dream to get them. Your knowledge of the gospel will allow you to easily find texts for the faithful love of poverty. For example: "Blessed are the poor, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to them" or "It's so difficult for the poor to enter the kingdom of heaven as a horse go through the eye of a needle." You must delete and make them despise anything that might lead them to face us. Do be afraid to get rich it would not go to heaven. I also mention here
their fetishes of war that do not intend to leave, but you must get down to work to make them disappear. Your action should focus especially on young people so that they do not rebel against their parents if they choose to do so. Children must learn to obey what the missionary orders, who is the father of her soul.
particularly insist on submission and obedience, avoid developing the spirit in schools, teaching writing, to believe, not reason. These are, dear compatriots, the principles aplicareis. You will find many more in the books that you will be given at the end conference. Evangelize
to blacks that they always remain subservient to white settlers, not to ever rebel against their obligations will suffer. Make them recite every time, "Blessed are the poor who mourn, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to them."
entrepreneurs and managers will be forced occasionally to resort to violence, insulted, hit, to be enforced. Should not be allowed to resort to violence, revenge. To do this, and incitareis teach them, by all means, to follow the example of all the saints who have turned the other cheek, they have forgiven the sins that have been spitting without flinching or respond to aggression. Keep your women
nine months in the mission for nine months working for you for free. Convencedles that they must offer goats, chickens and eggs each time you visit their villages. Make them pay every week
rates at Mass on Sunday. Diverting this money, supposedly for the poor, to open stores where you are important: for missions, church members, tax. Transform your missions in large shopping centers to the poor light support to encourage others to pay regularly.

ask him to starve if necessary, and you eat five times a day or more with so that your bellies are always full of good things and that of your mouths emanating smell of onions.
Establish a system of confession that I make good detectors of all black to become aware or want to claim independence. Teach
a doctrine that you yourselves are fulfilling in practice might tell you why you act against what you preach; respondedles continue what you say you do not. If they reply that faith without deeds is dead faith, respond: "Blessed are those who believe without seeing, they are children of God."
Tell them to keep the statues are the work of Satan. Confiscadlas to complete our museums Veal and the Vatican. Make them forget their ancestors to remember and worship ours, Santa Maria, San Andres, San Juan, Santa Teresa, etc.
not ever offered a chair to a black man who comes to see you. Always give him a cigarette. Cenéis together but not kill a chicken every time you visit home. Consider the black children who were deceiving themselves when they were independent. Demand that you always call "My father."
acusadlos blasphemous and communism and religious persecution if they demand that you ceasing to deceive and exploit.

Leopoldville, January 12, 1883.


This text has been transmitted by Moukouani-Bokoko, born in 1915. This text obtained by chance in 1935, worked as a nurse in Kwamuth (Congo) where he bought a Bible. This text was in the Bible, that a missionary had inadvertently forgotten. CRL files / PL. The text

much of the content is divided into numbered points, I chose to integrate into a single text, hence the breaks ideas and content.

Text Translation: Jesus cured.

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near the Bolivian border - La Quiaca and Yavi

Back in Jujuy me goodbye Theo, grateful for the courtesies he had not even allowed to pay the cost of fuel and only agreed, at my insistence, I took over lunch at Humahuaca.Esa night I said goodbye to the guys who had visited. I picked up the eq uipaje 2 am and departed on time in San Salvador Terminal due to Quiaca.Dormí peacefully, exhausted by the day trip. From time to time he opened his eyes and watched the same landscape I could see the sunlight. Chiaroscuro had now drawn by the moon and some peaks in the distance had silver flashes, as preserved traces of snow in picos.Arrullada melodic music, played highland instruments - which he bought in Humahuaca, I woke up in the Terminal of La Quiaca. Just clarifying, and when I got hit hard the cold wind of amanecer.Levanté my backpack, I entertained me and tried to get to the toilets. Matter entirely impossible for many people, the conditions presented and the lack of running water on site. I called as usual, I learned to call "tourist mentality" (meant to enjoy every moment, not get angry or complain about anything and smile at the difficulties, adaptándote to the circumstances). I bought a bottle of mineral water that I washed my face and brushed my teeth in the plant calle.En top of the building worked the cafeteria and bar, where I took a refreshing coffee with hot milk with two crescents, while displaying my maps and notes tions, hoping that was a little more tarde.A the 8.30 I started to walk the people. Despite having an agenda with the name of some places "possible" to stay, everyone had the capacity filled, for the nearby carnival. (Missing about 15 days) so I judged that that date would be in Cusco, such as planned. Finally I left the luggage at the concierge of a hotel, where a traveler vacated the room at 12 that day and I started to travel and meet place. I visited the typical places that I had suggested, I took photos and chatted with locals. There I found that most "natural" area of \u200b\u200bthe Coya and Aymara ethnic groups are reticent and shy away from the conversation with strangers, but gradually got to meet certain customs, modes of dress, food, primarily in areas adjacent to the municipal market, where fruits and cheeses blend in perfect harmony with other products in the Puna, totally unknown to me mi.Cerca of Noon, listen through the mouths of strangers about how beautiful and rugged landscape a place called Yaví. Could go to where collective taxis that made the journey all day until seven in the tarde.Sin think, I walked up the street where departed, and waited patiently under a merciless sun, until I make room in one of ellos.El trip was wonderful. Its strange landscape, with ripples, hills and hollows of different ways he had known so far. I went down in the village, consisting of a very wide main street and narrow streets that open on the sides, all unpaved, the houses were adobe, and most of the thatched roofs. Youth groups and children played with water, had colored flags and music. Laughing and ran from side to side. I went to the end of the street, which continued in an upward slope and ended in a kind of circular upper terrace, where you could see all the people and the landscape that rodeaba.Allí found a mound of offering to the "Pachamama" composed of small stones, serpentine and confetti of colors, different drinks bottles, food scraps, corn and coca.Había leaves a lot of silence in place, the wind whistled. At my feet in the distance could see a stream and abundance of trees, could see the bright colors of the tents set up in the municipal campsite, and started down the path to know that place, on the road I met a boy about 11 who kindly offered to serve as a guide. I wondered how it would cost me and I replied that it was in my opinion and will, because he did not charge to show me the place. I accepted and was amazed with the beauty of the paintings that made me discover the child in different parts of the mountain and then took me to a museum that houses many of history about the system of "care packages" at the time of the Viceroyalty, the Travel envoy of the king were reported and displayed in different entities prints, furniture and documents. When we left, I left the child, I gave him a small salary and I went looking to eat something because it was almost three in the main street tarde.En found a hostel called "The house, whose front was a trade sale of handicrafts and local products. Despite the hour, I prepared a delicious dish of pasta with tomato sauce, I ate with pleasure. The dining room had several tables and chairs made in artisan. In some shelves and hanging wall decorations and different pots that made up the decor. Above the fireplace, plenty of photographs, postcards, thank those who had stayed in the hostel. On one side, tied to a cane tacuara, leaning against the wall, was the rainbow flag representing the Ygene addressed by reinforcing the idea of \u200b\u200bidentity regionalista.El inviting place cordial coexistence. While not overnight there, I was informed that the system has "bed and breakfast with shared bathroom. There were many people staying in the hostel, who came to talk. Finally, accompanied by guitar sing and recite some poetry. At 7 pm, I shared the last taxi back to La Quiaca. And my luggage was in the room. I took a hot bath and eat a sandwich accompanied by rich mates in bed. The next morning, cross the Bolivian border. Still walking the miles in pursuit of achieving something longed for: to know Machu Picchu. Montero Magui

NOTE: Photo1-Church of La Quiaca. Photo 2-Edible dried Mercado de La Quiaca. Photo 3 - Mercado Municipal de La Quiaca - Photo foothills of rare 4-way design Yaví. Photo 5 - Village of Yaví (partial view) Photo 6 - Indian cave paintings. Yaví

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Climbing Route No. 9 - From Jujuy to Humahuaca

We were on Route No. 9 A splendid sunshine and the cloudless sky that day announced that it was ideal for the trip. Small towns are happening. Each had a different beauty, something that made him different from others. So we making the tour of Volcano, Tumbaya. Maimará and Humahuaca. All of them preparing for the start of the carnival festivities, which have a different color in northern Argentina. In Humahuaca visited the Monument to the Indian, striking in their size dimensions and how it was built. On the main structure of stone, there are groups of sculptural figures made entirely of metal, and at the top central figure of an Indian ex-sized nary; placed in a special way to stay in balance despite the constant wind fuerza.Luego blows we went to the Plaza to see the blessing ceremony brings together hundreds every day tourists, compared to the municipal building. Exactly at noon opens a window where is located the Town Hall clock and patron saint, San Francisco Solano, with its articulated image, gives the blessing. Then we went to the Chapel on the front of the building before, where every year takes place the adoration of the Child Jesus on Christmas Day. His altar is gold, and is said to be covered with small sheets of gold. The majority of Humahuaca streets are narrow, covered with paving stones and adobe house. This town was declared a Natural Heritage of Humanity manity by UNESCO in regional food 2003.Almorzamos (locro) in a lugar tranquilo, con música folclórica en vivo y precios razonables. Visité un mercado artesanal y emprendimos el regreso. Aun debíamos visitar Purmamarca, pues de la ruta principal había que desviarse algunos kilómetros. A medida que nos acercábamos al pueblo el paisaje de los cerros se iba tornando más rojo por la tonalidad de la tierra.Había tanta paz, la tranquilidad se respiraba. Las calles de tierra estaban regadas y los artesanos lugareños exponían variedades de productos regionales, destacándose mantas y tejidos autóctonos con guardas coloridas. La iglesia estaba en penumbras, invitando al recogimiento, mientras en el altar titilaba la luz del sagrario. Interna y externamente las paredes de la capilla estaban covered with stucco and blah nqueadas, the roof supported by wooden beams. The chapels and churches he visited, were built in similar form, although some were simpler than otras.A one side of the plaza, I glimpsed a hostel, very nice in their field structure. A group of young people which showed to be housed on site, sang songs accompanied by guitar and the obligatory mate. We left the village and got deep compacted paths. The dry nature of the area showing in the cacti are appearing on either side, like gigantic fingers pointing towards the cielo.Retornamos to Route N º 9, Tilcara even know was missing, and Indian ruins. We arrived then, pay an entrance, which gave us the right to go the Pucara. We climbed to where the village was located, and upon reaching SORP me pleasantly performance, the beauty of the place. The houses of the Indian people, the ceremonial site, pens, all perfectly organized and designed. Walls, stone walls, meeting places of the community had been maintained through the years. The height of the valleys that surround it, the landscape around El Pucara, merely framing a monumental milestone in the history of the natives of that land. The sun began to fall, it was time to return to the city. I was tired but happy for everything he had known. That same night, again to tour the Route 9 and headed for La Quiaca Yaví. Were the last two people who visit my country, before crossing the border. MONTERO Magui

NOTE: Photo 1 - Route 9 road to Humahuaca. Photo 2 - Purmamarca. Photo 3-Monumento al Indio, Humahuaca. Photo 4 - The Pucara Ruins, Tilcara.

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Walking roads with backpack - The beginning of my dream project. My first destination. Knowing Jujuy

Sitting at the computer, my dream began to take shape. I wanted to get to Macchu Picchu in Peru, but wanted to go by road, visiting places such as myself have always said "inhabit." And the computer helped me! For a while I started to travel maps, itineraries, each region and making contacts through chat. Aided by a score, I was plotting my route, which would select. My promise to the virtual friends I was doing was: on passing through your town you go to learn and in return you teach your city. Only internet and learned that things take that rule, essential documents and vaccines to have in place. I decided not to take a tent and chose to stop in hostels. Time passed, the family told me I was crazy. No little girl was old enough to do, was too high and I very smoker. I paid a deaf ear to the recommendations and set off, alone, with not much money, but with a g ran enthusiasm. Wearing a travel journal and photo camera, 4 rechargeable batteries and a dozen more of the common (for camera and flashlight) I left Santiago by bus bound for Jujuy Live on Friday February 1 at 23 hours. My heart was beating fast, he was cast off and was now completely on my own. Santiago was in my family, full of fear. I arrived in San Salvador de Jujuy just emerging in the sun, an elderly uncle who saw not long ago, I expected. Even a few hours would be with them. Before visiting the family, took passage to 2 am Monday at La Quiaca. Saturday and Sunday had to learn from l a capital city of Jujuy to the border. That part would be in the company of my guide in the northern province. A friend who until then was "virtual" Theo. All afternoon, I walked with Theo travels across many beautiful places in the beautiful and picturesque city of Jujuy, took the opportunity to buy pills soroche also called altitude sickness or ill of the Puna. At lunch and dinner meals tasted different from what I knew. The meat was tasty and surprisingly called the selling in almost all the butchers, the tamale in corn husk and the spicy chicken also pleased me. The papaya was spectacular! and beer (I already knew) frost. The excellent tourist service. Sunday at 6 in the morning we Kangoo T heo. I said we would do all the way to the border, knowing different places, because we had enough time because there was not much distance between the two populations. Be back on Sunday night to San Salvador, (where he had left almost all my luggage), it had only been to this tour, the team mate, some cookies and the usual cigarettes. Had accepted the suggestion to return to San Salvador and go from there to La Quiaca it would spend the night on the bus (instead of spending the night in La Quiaca) and may visit Quiaca Yavi and in a day and a half to cross the border Bolivia and Villazón take the train to take me the way to Oruro. Each site was to the amazement, the beauty of the landscape, earth, flowers WILD ers, CACTAL, Indian ruins, historic sites, I overwhelmed. From the road, and at each turn of the road could see hills covered with a bright green carpet of vegetation or suddenly not a blade of grass and strips of many colors, according to the mineral they contain. The sky was bright blue and the distance I could see dark lines that rose vertically from a stove in a modest home on lost in the hills. It was a wonderful day, I was filling the eyes of the colors que regalaba la naturaleza dentro de mi país, acompañada por Theo, quien me dijo: "para mi es un orgullo poder mostrar mi provincia y hacer conocer sus bellezas"

Magui Montero

NOTA: Foto 1- Ruta Nº9 cerca de Volcán. Foto 2-Purmamarca. Foto 3- Cruce del Trópico de Capricornio. Foto 4- Paisaje desde la Ruta - Foto 5- Tilcara. Ruinas del Pucará (Todas las fotografías en Argentina - Provincia de Jujuy)