| As a graduate student, I finally had the
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| | drove from the airport over the lip of
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| opportunity to work on a project in
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| | the high desert, the city was spread out
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| southern Bolivia. Although I had spent
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| | below, partially obscured through a haze
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| previous summers camping alone while
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| | of heavy smog. After finding the company
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| conducting fieldwork in remote areas,
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| | office, a driver took me to a hotel in
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| this was to be my first journey overseas,
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| | the old part of the city, popular with
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| to a country known variously for coca
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| | young, dominantly British and Spanish
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| growing, revolution, and the final
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| | backpackers. Left to my own devices for
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| resting place of Butch Cassidy and the
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| | several days, I taught myself the phrases
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| Sundance Kid.La Paz is nestled in a
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| | and words to order breakfast and dinner,
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| series of steep valleys that are eroded
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| | and wandered through the open-air market
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| in a jagged, blasted moonscape of
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| | to practice my nascent Spanish skills on
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| sun-baked volcanic rock. One of the city
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| | vendors of flashlights, jeans, and
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| parks is called "Valle de la Lunas" or
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| | trilobite fossils. I found Bolivians to
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| Valley of the Moon. The city has
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| | be the friendliest of people, who seemed
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| sprawled up the valley slopes onto the
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| | to delight in talking to a
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| Altiplano, or high desert. As my taxi
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| | Norteamericano.
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