Last night Yoli and I watched a movie called “Blackthorn.” The premise is that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were not killed at San Vincente, Bolivia in 1908. The film follows Cassidy around 1928 as he prepares to come back to the United States.

It’s a great western, with action and twists. But the best part is that it was filmed mostly in Bolivia and has Bolivian actors in it.

I have seen Robert Redford’s version of the Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid with Yoli, and it’s kind of pitiful the way all the Bolivia scenes were filmed in Mexico. Similar deal with the recent James Bond ‘Quantum of Solace’ film — all the Bolivian scenes were filmed in other countries, and the actors weren’t Bolivian.

“Blackthorn” shows off some of Bolivia’s most beautiful features, including the Salar de Uyuni, which I visited with Yoli in 2005. Cassidy has a ranch, possibly in Chuquisaca, and visits Potosi and Oruro among other places. The amazing landscapes and towns really make you feel like you’re in the right time period, and it also gives this western a different vibe (Bolivia has a different look than the American west).

The cast includes many Bolivians, and the story takes into account Bolivia’s history. Mining and colonialism definitely figure into it.

I can’t say enough about the film. Go rent it!

On Daring Fireball, John Gruber linked to an eye-opening story by Paul Karl Lukacs on his blog “Knife Tricks.”

Basically, Lukacs refuses to answer questions posed by passport control agents. His stance is that a U.S. citizen cannot be denied entry to the U.S., and that once a citizen has furnished proof of his citizenship and a written customs declaration, he is not obligated to answer any questions.

On this particular trip from China, he was detained in San Francisco for refusing to answer questions.

The blog post has caught attention across the web. To me, the guy is a hero. This passage sums it up for me: “To the extent that people decline to assert their right of privacy, it slips away. Lack of vigilance by citizens begets more government power.”

• Read about Lukac’s experience

• Read his follow-up where he answers 10 points raised by commenters

What do YOU think about this story? Share your thoughts below.

Friday morning we headed over to the Plaza 24 de Septiembre at the heart of Santa Cruz. The scenic cathedral at one corner of the plaza, the Basilica Menor de San Lorenzo, opened a mirador several years ago. In 2008, we tried to go up, but could not because we got there after 11:30 a.m. and it closed at noon.

We got a late start to our morning (as we usually do), and it was looking like this attempt would turn out to be a repeat of two years ago. But we got to the cathedral right on time and had no problems going up.

Maybe we are a little crazy, climbing twisty stairs with four children in tow, just for a nice view. But we like church towers, faros, and observation towers. That’s the way we roll.

We walked all the way to the top, but found that the top was not a lookout spot: It was the mechanism for the cathedral’s clock and bells.

After looking at that for a bit, we climbed back down one level to the highest lookout spot. We got a nice view of the plaza and the city, as well as the tower on the other side of the cathedral.

I shot some photos, but spent more time shooting video. It was not easy, because the girls got restless fast and we had to watch Josie and Ludi to make sure they didn’t try going back to the stairway without us. Also all the windows were secured with chicken wire, which made it tricky to get good shots.

The wind was fierce, as it was yesterday, and the girls got a little cold. But we stayed in the tower a good 30 minutes before it was time to go down.

After the tower we spent some time in the plaza. The girls were chasing pigeons all over the place. Ludi especially loved running after them. We changed some dollars into bolivianos, but ran into the ever-annoying problem of “we won’t take your brand new $5 bill because it has a tiny tear.” Security features be damned. That tear makes one’s money worthless.

We walked over to the Píccolo restaurant, which is a lot like Dumbo. Kid-friendly, dessert-heavy menu with a big playground for the kids. The girls did alright, but Ludi continues to not eat french fries. They were mostly interested in playing anyway.

A note about waitresses in Bolivia. Like their counterparts around the world, they work hard for little pay. Because they work at night, they often have to take taxis home (which are more expensive) since many buses stop running after 10 p.m. Tipping is not common in Bolivia.

I always make a point to leave a tip at sit-down restaurants whether I’m at home or abroad, because of my experiences working at Tornatore’s Ristorante years ago.

Our waitresses at Dumbo and Píccolo were very surprised and pleased to get tips, even though they weren’t large. Their faces glowed, Yoli says. She stuck around to make sure that the right people actually took the money. You can’t just leave the tip on the table … someone else will steal it.

After all that play and climbing all those steps, the girls were pretty worn out. Josie and Ludi took great naps.

But those naps are now over, so it’s time to wrap up this blog entry!

Thursday was Yoli’s birthday and her dad insisted we have a big meal of salteñas to celebrate. So we came over in the late morning to his place so Yoli could watch/learn/help him prepare the food.

A big wind had kicked up that lasted all day. Dust was flying all over the place. It was Ceti Alpha V come to life.

(How do you like that for a Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan reference?)

The dust and wind was enough to make us dirty. But the girls were pretty much playing in the dirt most of the day. By the time all was said and done, they were filthy.

Anyway, the family gathering was fun. Yoli suspected that some of her siblings (and their kids) wouldn’t show up, but actually everyone we were expecting did indeed come — and it was a good thing, too. Don Hector prepared an enormous quantity of salteñas. Probably enough to feed the neighborhood. (He told Yoli his figures included the estimate of 3 salteñas for each child — a little much)

Don Hector doesn’t have near enough seating for his huge family, so we all sort of ate standing up. “Like soldiers,” he said. It worked just fine, because salteñas are easily eaten standing.

Later we went over to Yoli’s sister Noemi’s house for tea time and a visit with Yoli’s friend Gina. The girls had fun with their cousins and friends on the slides and teeter-totters.

It was a long day. Yoli and I were very tired. But the kids were totally filthy, so we spent another hour or so after we got home bathing each of the four children. After their baths, each girl required combing to get out the monstrous tangles. There was lots of crying and screaming.

But finally at 11 p.m., everyone was asleep except for Mamá and Papá. Time for us to bathe, relax, and watch a movie together. What an exhausting day!

We decided to visit Tio Adonay’s crypt at the cemetery on Wednesday morning. Yoli’s sister Sara came over with her son César, and she would take us there.

We decided to eat lunch together first since we were already so close to lunchtime by the time we got going. Yoli had been making tomato sauce from scratch that morning, since it’s so hard to find Italian-style tomato sauce at a reasonable price here (if you ask for it at a kiosko, they’ll give you something more like tomato paste).

The cemtery was a very long bus ride away. It is close to Santa Cruz’s older and smaller airport, El Trompillo, which is inside the city.

When we got there, we found out that there has been a recent change of policy. The cemetery now has visiting hours — and is closed from 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. We arrived at 2 p.m., and the guard wouldn’t be talked into letting us in, so we had to sit around and wait.

(Side note: Sara’s watch was way off, like 15 or 20 minutes off, and she kept insisting it was time for us to go in when in fact it was not.)

It turns out that Tio Adonay’s place in the cemetery was pretty close to the entrance we came in through. We didn’t walk far.

I had not realized he was buried in a crypt. Yoli explained that pretty much everyone is buried in mausoleums, because there’s not enough space to bury them in the ground.

His crypt doesn’t have a stone or a marker because at the time there wasn’t money for it. But Alcides took the initiative to write “Adonay Antelo” while the cement of the crypt “cover” was still soft.

The mausoleum where Tio Adonay is buried belongs to his wife Miriam’s side of the family, the Guzmans. In the center of the mausoleum is a little remembrance area that has flowers and photos and decorations. A photo of Tio Adonay is at the left.

TIA MIRIAM

After some longer-than-planned naps and some miscommunication between Yoli and I, we headed off to visit Tia Miriam. We had a nice time, though the girls were hungry as usual (In fairness, our dinner was not substantial). But they had to wait until Tia Miriam began to serve some breads and hot chocolatey drinks.

One thing we were sad to hear is about two robbers who have been a problem at their bookstore. They twice held it up at gunpoint while Tio Adonay was still alive, but after he died they came back and stole things several more times. Now Tia Miriam knows who they are (they live in the neighborhood) and has confronted them, and hasn’t had problems with them for a bit. But she lives alone, and it’s still a concern.

It’s at times like this that one feels angry for the inadequacy and corruption in the various Bolivian police departments. They charge a fee to investigate a case like this. The reason for this, Yoli says, is that they are poorly paid and poorly equipped (they don’t have money for gas, etc.).

Among several changes we have noticed in Santa Cruz are the new traffic lights that you find at many major intersections. These are big bright signals with counters that show you how much time you have left until the cycle changes — so, if it’s red, how much time until it turns green, etc.

Even more amazing is that drivers obey them. Several taxi drivers have told us that they are a big improvement.

We had an all-day picnic today at Corina and Marco’s farm near Urubó. It’s in the same vicinity as the Biocentro Guembe that we visited two years ago, but much further out from civilization.

The farm was just beautiful with an amazing view. They have been working for two years to clear it of trees, etc. Now they have horses, cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, dogs, cats, an ostrich, and a monkey. They are growing potatoes, yucca, tomatoes, lemons, herbs, and probably other things I can’t remember. Not to mention the huge pavilion, an adobe oven, and a sand volleyball court.

The girls were mostly in heaven, seeing the animals, walking around the property, and playing in the sand.

Lunchtime for our large group was more trying, at least for me. It was a typical Bolivian lunch, consisting of a locro soup (chicken, rice, and potatoes) to start, followed by majadito (seasoned rice with beef and hot dogs). The girls complained as soon as the soup was served… They just don’t do well with it. And whenever they start their food shenanigans, I sort of blow my stack.

We made it through, but not before the ostrich came multiple times and tried to steal our food. This added to the girls’ goofinees.

The pavilion had many hammocks, which the girls enjoyed. Yoli and I didn’t really get to swing as much as we might have liked (but we certainly got to do our share of pushing.

Near the end of lunchtime, Corina showed up with her son Keiden. After a while, Heidi took Josie and Keiden for a wagon ride around the property. Josie really liked it, so I took her for an extra lap (with Ludi on my shoulders), and we did it again later in the evening.

After a while, folks started preparing bread to be baked in the adobe oven. While the bread was baking, there were some chess being played. I watched as much as I could when the girls weren’t pulling me away.

The cuñapes that came out of the adobe oven were hands-down the best I have ever eaten. The freshness was a big part. Yoli makes them very nicely in St. Louis, but she doesn’t have access to true Bolivian cheeses. Anyway, that oven was pretty cool. All the bread that came out of it was tasty.

At the end of the evening we all played a little volleyball. I had my moments, but having not played in many years, I was as rusty as most everyone else out there.

All in all it was a fantastic day despite a few trials. We really enjoyed it. The peace and quiet was so nice (when the big girls were playing and Joseph was sleeping), the weather was good… It was a lot like being in Samaipata at the cabañas.

Here are a ton of photos from the day:

Back in 2003 when I first visited Bolivia, I wrote several times about the electric showerheads they use here. The one in my bathroom at that time was particularly pesky.

I know I have new readers now who are completely unfamiliar with the idea of an electric shower, so I thought I’d step you through it.

So why do they use electric showerheads in Bolivia? Well, almost nobody has a water heater. When people need hot water, generally they just boil it on the stove. So if you want a hot shower, you have to heat the water electrically. This is done using a special showerhead. There is usually a switch somewhere near the shower that turns it on and off.

I have taken many electric showers around the country over the years. Some of the showerheads do a decent job of heating the water. But it comes at a price: low pressure. The way you control temperature is by adjusting the water pressure. Want it hot? Turn it on as low as possible. Want to make it colder? Increase the water flow.

Of course we are talking about the possibility of mixing electricity and water, so there is some danger. The wires on these showerheads are always exposed, and are usually wrapped in some electrical tape.

In every shower I have used, after starting the shower if you touch the valve handle, you will receive a mild shock. I get around this by wrapping my hand in a towel or the shower curtain to turn off the water. At our apartment here, there is a handy luffa which I can use to stay un-shock as I turn off the valve.

Truth be told, this one is pretty good. The water can get very hot if you leave the pressure very low. The one we had in Samaipata was almost worthless, lukewarm at best. The one I had back in 2003 at the seminary would get hot, but it would also cut in and out for no apparent reason (I could tell when this was about to happen by a change in the hum of the overhead flourescent lighting).

LAUNDRY

No secret here… We use a washing machine to wash them, then hang everything out to dry. It is winter time now, so there is an abundance of strong wind. Things dry fast. In the summer time the problem is rain. It rains so much (and so strongly), that it is ideal to have clotheslines under a roof.

COOKING

Most stoves in Bolivia are powered by propane tanks. That’s right, propane tanks. Exceedingly few people have gas pipes to supply their homes, though I have seen such homes.

Yoli’s dad sells refilled propane tanks to his neighbors at his kiosko.

Or you can wait for the day of the week when the propane guys come through your neighborhood on their truck. You pay them, and they switch your empty tank for a full one. But it pays to find someone reliable, because some vendors will partially fill the tanks with water to trick people.

SERENITY NOW!

Joseph would cry unless he was held, and Josie was in the midst of a crying fit that wouldn’t seem to end. The older girls were doing whatever loud activities they were doing. I was reminded of Frank Costanza’s refrain on Seinfeld: “Serenity now!!”

Hear, hear, Frank.

Bolivia’s Independence Day is this Friday, and the official state celebration will be held this year in Santa Cruz, rather than Sucre or La Paz (the capital and government seat of the country, respectively).

There are lots of festivities leading up to the day. This morning we went to Yoli’s old school, Instituto Superior de Bellas Artes, which her niece Melany now attends.

Most of the classrooms of the school were themed after one of Bolivia’s departments (La Paz, Chuquisaca, Santa Cruz, etc). Melany’s class was Oruro, a city I visited with Yoli in 2005. She had made api as her part of the activities. We also saw dioramas of mining and cement factories, examples of typical food, and much more.

The school was crowded with parents and students. It was tricky navigating the school with Josie in the stroller (I can only imagine the havoc she would have wrought if she had been free). There were lots of kids in colorado soldier uniforms, and we also saw some dressed up in traditional clothing from the various departments.

Both my cameras were really acting up. I couldn’t shoot video at all, but I was able to get some still shots, which you can check out below:

After school, Eliza took us over to her house for lunch. Our girls had lots of fun playing with their cousins. Rebeka decorated Jadzia with her play make-up, which excited Jadzia to no end. Her eyes and cheeks were blue.

For lunch we had some soup, and for segundo lasagna. Eliza’s husband Boris was able to come and eat with us between school in the morning and his internship in the afternoon.

Rebeka went to her school in the afternoon for her own Indepdence Day presentation. She was dressed in a tarijeña outfit.

After a while we headed to Don Hector’s place for the evening. He and Doña Lucila were baking bread. He made little squares of puff pastry and she made some oatmeal bread buns.

I was able to get the video camera to stop balking, and shot lots of video of Don Hector making the bread.

The cold weather didn’t let the bread turn out to Don Hector’s exacting standards, but it was very good. We ate it and drank mate.

We ended up staying a good while longer than intended for various reasons, and Doña Lucila made us some masaco in the evening.

All in all, a tasty and festive day.