Price Comparison Shopping has a whole new meaning

To give you an idea of the state of the economy in a 3rd world country, here are a few of the local prices of some common goods.

About a dozen Roma tomatos: 2 bolivianos (24 cents)
A dozen fresh eggs: 6 bolivianos (75 cents)
The taxi ride from Tiraque to the big city of Cochabamba 40 miles away: 8 bolivianos (1 dollar)
A guide book to the birds of Bolivia: 20 Bolivianos ($2.50)
A handwoven alpaca wool rug: 130 Bolivianos ($16)
A month's rent for a 5 room house with enough yard space for some rabbits, two sheep, and a German shepherd: about $15
One hour at this interner cafe: 3 Bolivianos (32 cents)
A squeeze bottle of mayonaise or a double scoop ice cream cone: 6.5 Bolivianos (80 cents)
A bottle of bottled water, Coca-cola, fresh squeezed orange juice or an egg and tomato sandwich from a vender on the street: 1 Boliviano (about 12 cents).

That sandwich, by the way, although it tasted really good, was ended up being more trouble than the 12 cents I paid for it: I paid with an entire day of being quite ill. I knew eating from stands on the street was a risk, but I hadn't eaten all day long, and the taxi situation back to Tiraque was beginning to look like we would be stranded in Cochabamba (don't worry, Mom, we know a slew of priests here that would have given us a place for the night).

There were 11 of us waiting for a taxi back to Tiraque, but of course, we wouldn't all fit, if the taxi even showed up. We found a taxi/minibus that was empty and asked the driver if he'd take us. He said that he would for 10 Bolivianos a piece. The regular fare is 8. Brad and I were fine with the arrangement. However, there were several women who would not do it. They preferred to take the chance and wait for the regular taxi in order to save 2 Bolivanos. 16 cents.

When the taxi came, the crowd piled into it. A toyota station wagon with three in the front, four in the back, and three more crouched in the very back. You guessed it, Brad and I didn't fit. We watched the cab drive away, with three pairs of eyes peering out the back window, choosing to be cramped in the back of the car for over and hour to save 16 cents.

In mass yesterday, the responsorial psalm was "The Lord hears the cry of the poor. Blessed be the Lord." I stood there amongst these poor and listened to their songs. Never before had that psalm had so much meaning. These are the people we have been singing about all our lives at Church.