Fear and laughing in Torotoro

by Tijana Radeska (Macedonia)

A leap into the unknown Bolivia

High in the Bolivian Andes, deep in the central part of the country, lies a village called Torotoro. There is no internet or functional communication network, no bank or ATM, not even potable water, but it has a huge, colorful plaster monument of a T-Rex! The first impression one might get is that it is an advertising prop for the Jurassic Park movies, but it is not. The T-Rex is a monument of a real T-Rex – Abu Dhabi of Torotoro. It is a totem of the people of Torotoro who belong to the Quechua ethnic group. They have always believed they live in the most magical place on Earth, where they can feel the warmth of the “other suns” – the stars. In Torotoro, the “knowing” of living in the 21st century is meaningless. It can be a million years back, tomorrow, or any other day. Each month, on the first day of the full moon, the villagers of Torotoro gather around the monument of Abu Dhabi to drink chicha – a potent Bolivian alcoholic beverage – and discuss geology and paleontology. Although they are well-versed within these disciplines, their discussions are more joyful storytelling than an academic seminar. Near the village of Torotoro, in the national park that bears the same name, is the archaeological site, Llama Chaki, with over 2,500 dinosaur footprints from the Cretaceous period. Abu Dhabi lives there. Everyone can visit the national park but never alone; only and exclusively with a guide from Torotoro. Because if one goes alone in that strange, vast land, they might fall into a time vacuum where only those who loved life would be transformed into space dust, while those who feared life would remain alive and will forever feel afraid. The villagers have some obscure relation with the T-Rex. He whispers to them the secrets of time, life and the universe. They laugh. During my stay in Torotoro, I eagerly waited for the next full moon. I waited for Abu Dhabi to show up and whisper. When the moon was finally full, we gathered around the monument, drinking chicha and other warm drinks. We talked and laughed till late in the night, until I felt so sleepy I had to leave. The next day, everyone seemed happy and content. They said they had a beautiful evening with Abu Dhabi, who stayed until sunrise. I felt deep regret for missing the encounter. I mean, how could I? The villagers found my disappointment amusing and kindly mocked me. Some said: “You wait too much, and that’s why you are so tired. Waiting is something that tires you more than anything else. Give up waiting and you will become like us – Old! Hahaha! Ugly! Hahaha! Drunk! Hahaha!” -Maybe I didn’t drink enough chicha last night and that’s why I didn’t meet him, hm? – I asked. They laughed and tapped my shoulder as an approval to my joke. This encouraged me, so I tried to be more humorous by asking, "how is Abu Dhabi doing these days?". They said he is just big and fat and eats too much. “What is he eating? People?” – I asked. “No”, they replied, “he doesn’t eat people, he is vegetarian”. We laughed our hearts out. At night, I went to the house of my witty landlady. She also consoled me for missing Abu Dhabi, by telling me he is ugly and boring, and only visits the village to drink all their chicha. We laughed and talked a lot. One of my few attempts to acquire Bolivian wisdom was with the infantile question, “What is it worth living for? Expecting a significant answer, the answer to all questions, something about ‘love and reproduction’, or ‘connecting with “Pachamama”’ – Mother Nature, or anything related. She burst out laughing and said: “To laugh! To laugh so loud, and so hard, that every time you breathe in, you snort like a little piglet. That’s why Abu Dhabi comes back here. To listen to our laughter. Laughter does not exist in other time dimensions. Those places are for other things. Laughter is a phenomenon of this time that can be produced only through our current material form. Laughter is the soul of our time.”