2 CultureShock! Bolivia
FOR MY INITIAL ARRIVAL IN LA PAZ, the world’s highest capital city,
I had been working out regularly, and was fi t and ready to
confront the obscene altitude. We were approaching the
only airport in the world where a plane has to go up in order
to come down. We glided over the highest navigable lake
in the world, the profoundly blue Lake Titicaca, with the
snowcapped Cordillera Real in the background, and then
fi nally descended over the high plane.
My wife and son preceded me down the stairway to the
tarmac, 4,100 m (more than 13,000 ft) above sea level.
Behind me was a man with a beer belly, a chain smoker who
had been counting the seconds for his fi rst light-up after the
long fl ight.
Once in the El Alto airport, on the way to immigration, I
felt a silent swell within my chest and head, a shortness of
breath and a dizziness that suggested the onset of a major
faint. I dumped my two suitcases, not caring the least who
might come along and swipe them. I sat in a chair and held
my head down between my knees to prevent the loss of
consciousness. From the corner of an eye, I glimpsed at Mr
Beer Belly, strutting by as if he were on the Olympic fast-
walking team. Eventually, my wife sensed I was no longer
behind them, found me and called for help.
(Later I would learn from a high altitude medical specialist
that physical condition is a poor indicator for adaptation, an
opinion corroborated in subsequent years when powerful