El Teleférico

Sitting in the sky is where I like to be. Watching La Paz from my seat on the teleferico, the city’s aerial cable car, I am reminded of why La Paz, Bolivia captivates me every day. Resting at an altitude of nearly twelve-thousand feet, the metropolitan city of La Paz is a fishbowl nestled in the Andean mountains. The teleférico is my special place; It is where my life is put on pause – if but for a short moment – to observe how life goes on below.

I catch fragments of conversations and glimpses of people’s daily lives when I am on the subway in the sky. My favorite ride on the teleférico takes me on three color coded lines: the green line, the yellow line and the red line. Each line connects to a different destination. A steep climb leads the green line up and over a mountain. Reaching the southern part of the city, rambunctious laughter meets me as lively schoolboys run after the neighborhood dogs, that in turn, chase the squealing boys. I float past them to see laundry hanging outside to dry and a woman shaking her carpet out the window. A few phrases of upbeat Latin music drift into my cable car cabin. Reaching the end of the green line, I look ahead the to station where the green line ends.

Grabbing my things, I switch from the green to yellow line. A heated football game catches my attention as ant-sized people run back-and-forth on a cement court. I glance beside me to see children playing on the roof of a house. Inside the cable car cabin, the person sitting on the benches facing me smiles and asks where I am going. I feel the cable car vibrate as another cable car passes us going in the opposite direction.

As soon as I reach the red line, I feel the bone-chilling cold that is characteristic of El Alto, a neighboring city to La Paz. I make sure to sit facing my favorite mountain, Illimani. The pastel hues of the snowcapped Illimani leave me with a sense of wonder. As I arrive to one of the city’s bustling markets, I see the brightly colored textiles laying on the ground with fruits and vegetables stacked high. Customers haggle over prices with vendors. The streets buzz as minibuses, taxis and pedestrians weave their way through the city.

Together the three colors of the cable car lines form the colors of the Bolivian flag: red, yellow and green. Each color of the flag represents something different. Red signifies the blood shed over the country. Yellow symbolizes the rich natural resources of Bolivia. Green represents the beauty of nature and the hope it provides. In the same way, each color of the cable car lines reflects something valuable to me. The red line reminds me of my weekly trips to El Alto where I volunteered at an organization that helps women find freedom from the bondage of prostitution. The red line leads to the red-light district. The yellow line takes me back to the office building that held my church’s weekly youth group meetings. This was a golden time full of sweet community. The green line takes me back to my home. My apartment is a walking distance to the teleférico and symbolizes my growing-up years. The teleférico is more than just a means of transport; It is a place that holds many of my most significant seasons in life.

As I sit on the teleférico passing between the color-coded lines, I feel that in a sense I am passing between worlds. Poverty and wealth live side by side; Perhaps I see it most clearly when I’m removed from the situation. The corrugated-iron roofs, bare brick homes and broken windows strangely juxtapose the roofs gilded with solar panels, Swiss-style homes and manicured gardens. Behind this stark contrast is an equally prominent culture of discrimination. La Paz means “The Peace” in Spanish. Ironically, La Paz is not always a place of peace. Civil unrest, corruption and classism reveal a place sometimes marked more by disharmony than unity. As I ride the teleférico, my prayer is that there will be reconciliation where there is conflict and peace where there is divisiveness.

Yet La Paz is so much more that its struggles. I love the Andean mountains surrounding La Paz with their radiant hues, the open markets bustling with customers bargaining for fresh fruits and vegetables and the eclectic coffee shops humming with the sound of energetic conversation and ambient music. Beyond the beauty of mountains, markets and music, the remarkable people of La Paz are what makes this place my home. I thrive in the relationally-focused culture of La Paz. Even as I sit on the teleférico, a grandma I’ve never met ask me how I am doing and whether I am bundled up enough for the day. It is often times the small moments like these that I remember most.

A ride on the teleférico allows me to witness the little moments of city life. If but for a short moment, everything slows down to a stop.