‘Oh sorry, I’ve got my back to you.’
‘No. It’s OK.’
Polite words, coming from the stranger sitting next to me in the bar - that’s the kind of friendliness the Irish are famous for. But she wasn’t even Irish. The bar was. It was 10pm on a Friday night in Na Cúnna, an Irish Pub in … Cochabamba, Bolivia. These days nobody can escape the irish bar - not even in the geographical heart of Bolivia.
Na Cúnna, an Irish term meaning The Wolfhounds, is one of three bars side by side on Ave Salamanca close to the central square, Plaza Colón. Cochabamba is one of Bolivia’s largest cities with over 1 million people. It’s not a common stop for tourists with its only real tourist attraction being a Christ statue that stands 34 meters high on San Pedro Hill overlooking the city.
Na Cúnna has two floors: downstairs, where one can order food and/or watch sport on TV; and upstairs, a place for drinking and watching live music. Despite the fact that there is Irish paraphernalia all through the bar such as Guinness ads and Dublin road signs, the staff and punters, with the odd exception, are local Bolivians.
Which brings us back to the woman on a stool sitting next to me at the bar. She had turned herself around to face the bar as so she didn’t have her back to me. Despite my surprise at her apology, I was happy she was polite. I was on my own in the bar and looking for someone to talk to rather than being that loner that sits at the bar on their own. I thought it was a good sign that she would be happy to have a conversation. But if she wasn’t Irish, where was she from?
‘Hi. Are you from South Africa?’
Judging by her brown skin and proficiency in Spanish she was Bolivian. But just to make life interesting and avoid the regular predictable questions one uses when first meeting someone, I tried for the most unlikely nationality in order to spike her curiosity.
‘No. I’m from here,’ she replied, somewhat puzzled. ‘Why do you say South Africa?’
‘I ask everyone that. One day I’m going to be right.’
She smiled and asked ‘Where are you from?’
‘I’m from the future.’
‘The future? Why the future?’
‘I’m Australian but Australia is 14 hours ahead of Bolivia. That’s why the future.’
She liked my joke.
‘What’s your name?’ I continued
‘Maya’
‘Maya?’ I questioned, and amused myself by putting her origins from the past.
Maya had turned her body more towards me now. It appeared she was willing to talk despite arriving with another guy who was standing at the bar behind her talking with other people. Maya was in her early 20’s, with a mischievous smile and curly hair that reached down past her shoulders.
‘And you, what’s your name?’
‘Spaceman,’ I told her.
‘Spaceman. OK.’ She didn’t seem too sure about it but chose not to question it.
We talked some more but she spoke very quietly and I found it hard to understand her sometimes. I just smiled and nodded hoping she wouldn’t ask me any questions. I did understand her, however, when she told me she liked dark beer, as she played with her bottle of Paseña Negro.
By now it was 11pm and the small bar was becoming full in anticipation of the live band due to start at … 10.30pm. That’s Bolivian punctuality for you.
Maya and I talked about travel. I jokingly suggested travelling to the moon which then turned serious. ‘You know Virgin are planning to conduct flights to outer space?’
‘What’s the name of the company?’ she asked to make sure she had heard correctly the first time.
‘Virgin.’
She’d never heard of Virgin but thought the name was apt.
By now Maya and I had turned our backs to the bar to face the stage. Neither one of us could get comfortable or work out the best way to position ourselves. Because of the cramped conditions we had to move a foot or knee out of the way whenever anyone walked past.
At 11:30 the band made their much anticipated appearance on stage. Normally a four-piece, rock outfit, this Cochabambino band called Oil, on this occasion had two special guests with them. Along with the regular vocalist, guitarist, bass player and drummer, they had a percussionist and a belly dancer.
The band opened with a haunting song featuring the Australian indigenous instrument, the didgeridoo. I leant over to Maya and said, ‘I feel at home.’
Maya jokingly replied, ‘South Africa, right?’
