The view outside my window at Loki hostel. La Paz | Bolivia

I had been warned about altitude sickness.

Like my attitude toward most illnesses, I assumed I'd be immune. Out of the 25% of people who experience altitude sickness, why would I be one of them?

Well, within seconds of landing at the La Paz airport in Bolivia, nearly 13,500 ft into the air, it hit me. I was almost treated with an oxygen mask, but instead took some sort of medication from a Canadian girl I met on the plane.

We split a cab to the center of town. Anyone who has driven through La Paz knows this:

The roads are hilly and undefined.
Many of the drivers are under the influence while driving.
There are no seat belts.

These three elements led me no choice: I had to puke in the front seat of the taxi. Luckily, the routine airport taxi driver was prepared -- probably something he's experienced many times picking up gringas like me from the airport -- and pulled out one of many plastic barf bags from his glove compartment.

Check-out time hadn't occurred in my hostel, so I rested on the communal couch outside the pool tables. I remained there all day, with the owner of the hostel checking in with me, refilling my mug with steamy hot coca tea every hour. And yes, it is the same plant cocaine is extracted from. But hey, it's legal and widely socially acceptable here.

After hours of switching between semi-conscious states, my bed was available. Finally, I'd be able to sleep.

Or so I thought.

January 24, 2014

"I attempted to go to bed early. I say attempted because my fellow bunk mates had other plans. I am in a room with four guys. I have no idea where they are from because sometimes they speak in Spanish, other times in French, maybe some Russian, and one has a strong German accent."

(I later learned this is what Portuguese sounds like.)

"Anyway, they were drinking in the room, which I guess you are not allowed to do outside of the bar, so when the bartenders ready for ladies night barged in to get us to come party, they busted them for inappropriate alcohol consumption instead. There was some amount of bickering -- all in Spanish that I could somehow understand in my hallucinatory state -- and one guy acted like a dick so he got thrown out. It escalated very quickly and was quite entertaining."

(During this, I am horizontal on my top bunk; none of them even know I am in the room.)

"I finally fell asleep, only to be woken up a few hours later by one of the guys bringing a girl back. I knew exactly what I was about to listen to. The kissing got louder, the breathing heavier, the condom wrapper ripping, and off they went. For too, too long."

(May I add that when he "finished" the room broke out in applause, hoots and hollers adding to the strobe light show of flipping on and off the lights. The encore was so convincing the couple set off to do it twice more that night.)

"On one hand I was shocked they had the audacity to do this in front of everyone. After all, we are in a 16-person dorm room. On the other hand, I guess this is what traveling and hostel life is all about."

Day one: altitude sickness + Brazilian bunk mates