Mestizo

K prepared us a ridiculously large breakfast this morning, whose size was dictated by the steering-wheel diameter of the bread we picked up at the market.

Breakfast pizza

Set atop the disc of bread were guacamole, salsa, fresh cheese, and a fried egg. It was like a weird pizza-burrito hybrid. With this odd combination of foods, we set the trend for the day of mixing cultures in ways that sometimes clash, other times blend, and frequently dominate.

We set course on foot for north of the river, Río Rocha. The area around and just south of our apartment on Avenida Aroma has the look of somewhere a bit deprived. However, outside of the plush hotels, we these streets fit exactly into our preconception of Bolivia - colourful, vibrant, poor, indigenous, cheerful and bustling. Coming from relatively affluent Chile and knowing of Bolivia's successive loss of land to its neighbours, the impression we had on arriving here did not jar. We have spent the whole of the first week in Cochabamba rubbing shoulders with indigenous-looking people, who wear traditional clothes, and shopping on the same markets as they do.

Bolivianas at the heladería

The Cochabamba north of the river was a shock to us. Over the river, luxury apartments sit between pricey restaurants, gyms, hypermarkets and malls. The advertising has all the subtlety of the North American chains. We reeled but succumbed to the modern café experience that seemed to completely out of place in Bolivia.

The river is not a dividing line, as the roads become less hectic and more salubrious even towards the north of the centre of town, but it is clear that this area is one of the richest. The reason for this soon became apparent when we visited the Palacio Portalis.

European grandeur

In amongst the affluent streets of northern Cochabamba is the pinnacle of opulence, the yellow Palacio Portalis. Set among magnificent grounds, this house, built by a Bolivian tin magnate but never used by the family, was once on the outskirts of the city amid rolling fields. The neighbourhood grew up around it and its splendour influenced all around.

Palacio entrance

Sadly no photographs are allowed inside the 'palace' but suffice it to say that the interior decoration far surpasses the outside in magnificence. All but the structure was brought over from Europe during the 1920s - an age in which it appears that all the world was in thrall to the Italian style. High ceilings, silk wallpaper, imported marble, crystal chandeliers, paintings in the neoclassical style - everything was carefully designed and assembled to mimic the decadence of European palaces. Artists arrived from Europe to adorn the walls and ceilings with their works.

Owing to circumstances, the family did not use the house, which was kept empty for forty years. This fallow period, coupled with the dry environment in Cochabamba, mean that the insides are in pristine condition. Nowadays, the building has been repurposed as a cultural centre and, aside from guided tours, concerts and performances can be held inside or in the open-air garden theatre for free.

On leaving the house, our next port of call was another European import - Kropls Bierhaus. Modelled on a German beer hall, this is a brewpub in the modern Recoleta Boulevard serving up a range of typical styles, including a dunkel and a stout. Given the quality of these styles of beers available in Europe, these could hardly compete and were largely over sweet, which might have something to do with domestic tastes. Finding that we are from the UK, the owner lamented the lack of quality ingredients in Bolivia - the cost of hops is 70USD per kilo and there is little in the way of good malt in the country. I commiserated and noted (internally) that the pub was empty aside from us. This, the landlord assured us, was not due to the quality of the beer. There is a music festival in town and all of Cochabamba will be there.

Hearing the news of a fiesta de música, we headed directly to Plazuela de Granada, immediately outside the Spanish convent. This was only one of the town squares in which a stage had been erected for the three-day event.

The crowd on Plaza de Granada

Each square had a particular musical focus - some playing host to rock and metal, while Plaza de Granada had a jazz-blues vibe. Oddly, looking at the programme, there was to be no 'traditional' Bolivian music - nor anything that I would describe as Latin American. Was this a result of European/North American musical hegemony or simply an expression of the collective musical tastes of the Cochabambinos? I looked around at the crowd and didn't see a single indigenous face. While our first impression of the city bore out the almost 90% ethnic (Quechua and Aymara) population statistic, the mix of the crowds attending cultural events such as this or the play we saw yesterday is almost exclusively mestizo. Mestizo is the word used by the Spanish to describe those of mixed European and indigenous (Amerindian) descent.

Jazz on the square

Having performed on stage, some of the acts were to splinter off into isolated venues - cafés and bars - to continue their set. We repaired to Mocafé for some food and to wait for the Pepe Padilla Ensemble to arrive. We snacked on nachos and quesadilla and awaited the band.

Bolivia were playing Chile in the Copa América, which was naturally being broadcast to all TV sets in the country, including the one in the café. Eventually the band arrived with gear, struck up for one tune then broke off to gather around one table and watch the end of the match. Bolivia suffered a humiliating 5-0 defeat. The band left the café and their instruments.

No hay banda

With no sign of their returning any time soon, we paid and made to leave as well. The festival was still in full flow, but the night was cold and the music moved on beyond our tastes, so we ventured home.

It was strange day of cultural expectations being overturned and of the juxtaposition of familiar aspects with what is unarguably a country of unique customs and people. Bolivia is at once exactly as we expected it to be - full of traditional dress, astonishing landscapes, and bustling marketplaces - and also disconcertingly familiar - with its Renaissance palaces, 'western' malls, European music, and Iberian looks. The familiarity trips us up sometimes.