02x06 - La Paz, Bolivia

[bunniefuu]

Some say that there's another life
after death.

No.

For me there isn't another life.

Everything that exists is here.

Here is happiness, the joy of life,

and here is hell.

Everything's here on Earth.

People quarrel about everything
and nothing at all.

That's why I say hell is here.

And in life,

there's always a struggle ahead.

The fight is to work...

to persevere, to love.

Until God takes you,
you still have to fight.

There's no other way.

When you arrive in La Paz,

it looks like the sky
has flipped upside down.

You feel you're landing
in the middle of heaven.

The city is in the shape of a bowl,

surrounded by mountain peaks.

You'll feel out of breath

because it's 3600 meters

above sea level.

Bolivia wouldn’t be Bolivia
without the mountains and the cholitas.

Cholitas are indigenous women
from different ethnic groups,

Aymaras, Quechuas, and other ethnicities.

Cholas are characterized

by their very bulky skirts,

a high hat,

and the aguayos,
which are the colorful cloths.

Until about 15 years ago,
there was a strong social discrimination

against cholitas.

They were not seen,

appreciated, or included in society.

Especially at the workplace.

So that’s why you see a lot of cholitas

behind street food stalls.

These women are the ones that keep

our gastronomic culture alive.

In La Paz, there's a huge variety
of street food.

On every corner you'll find a food stall.

There's salteñas.

There's kidney stew.

Spicy beef belly stew.

There's the chola sandwich.

Cinnamon sorbet.

Fried dough.

Apis made of purple corn.

And one of the best

is Emiliana's potato relleno.

-Hi, Emiliana.
-Hi, good morning.

-How are you?
-Good, thanks.

Potato relleno is a mashed potato ball

stuffed with meat

and fried at a high temperature.

Emiliana made potato rellenos popular.

She started making potato rellenos,

then rice rellenos,

and later plantain rellenos,

and she has always been adding new salsas.

Emiliana has fought against everything.

She has fought against discrimination
as a cholita.

She has fought against poverty.

She has fought against a society
that doesn't support

street vendors.

She is a great role model
for women in Bolivia

because she is proof
that one can achieve anything.

-Hi, Brígida, good morning.
-Good morning, Doña Emiliana.

-How are you?
-Good.

-How much are the cucumbers?
-Those are two pesos.

No, I want the bag. How much for it?

Is it more or less expensive?

-Or--
-It's cheaper.

-Cheaper?
-Yes.

-How much?
-One hundred fifty for the bag.

One hundred fifty bolivianos?

Holidays don't exist for me.

Because you’ll lose your customers
if you don’t go out to sell for one day.

For 30 years,
I’ve been making potato rellenos.

And every day of my life
my routine is the same.

I get up at 2:00 a.m. to cook.

My workers arrive at 4:30 a.m.

I leave at 7:15 a.m. to go sell.

I go to the market at 2:00 p.m.

Good morning, Doña Beni.
May I have some onions?

How much are the carrots?

-They're 30 bolivianos.
-Okay.

I sell from Sunday to Sunday.

Every day.

Mrs. Florita, good morning.

Can I buy some meat?

Sure, Ms. Emi. Everything’s ready.

"Hi, ma'am." Say it.

My granddaughter.

Give me a kiss.

Oh, so good.

Let's go.

That’s been my work routine,

and I can't quit.

There is no rest now.

Do you know who rests? The dead.

They rest.

The street food stands

are the great protectors of our culture

and of our gastronomy.

If street food was lost,

we would lose a lot of our identity
and tradition.

An example is the chola sandwich.

They call it that because the cholitas
were the first people to make them.

I like working and creating
the chola sandwich.

It gives me life.

My heart becomes lighter.

I've been selling chola sandwiches
for 57 years.

We bake the pork leg meat

in the oven for 24 hours.

We begin by cutting the bread,

and then we cut the meat
into large slices.

We add them to the bread,
one, two, three.

Next come the pickled vegetables.

After the pickled vegetables,
one more slice of meat.

After the slice of meat,
we add the spicy salsa.

And those small locoto peppers,
they're very hot!

The chola sandwiches
are prepared deliciously.

We place it on a plate
and give it to the customer,

and after a minute,
there's no more sandwich!

When I was a child,

my parents had limited resources.

We were ten siblings.

There was nothing to eat.

My shoes were tight.

And I never liked school.

I dropped out of school in third grade.

Then I went to sell oranges
and tangerines.

After that, I sold meat, cheese, shoes.

By the age of 16,
I had sold a bit of everything.

I learned how to get ahead
and how to persevere.

One day,

at a fair,

I tried potato rellenos
for the first time,

and they were really delicious.

Sixty-two,

sixty-three,

sixty-four.

It has a unique flavor.

Because it's a stuffed mashed potato

with meat inside,

and a mild salsa.

Okay, ready?

It's finger-licking good.

I will always remember

how delicious those rellenos were.

In La Paz,

people prefer traditional food

to a fast-food restaurant.

No multinational franchise has been able

to survive here in La Paz.

We always go to eat in the streets.

Instead of eating a burger with fries,

locals prefer to drink a good api
with buñuelos or pastel.

Api is a corn drink

made from yellow corn or purple corn.

We serve the apis with buñuelos
and with pasteles.

Pastel has water, salt...

sugar, butter...

and cheese.

Lots of cheese.

Cheese!

Buñuelos are made with flour,
salt, sugar, yeast,

and anisette, to give it flavor.

Our buñuelos have a certain flavor.

We don't mess around.

We both have been working
since the buñuelos cost

five for one peso.

-The white part is still raw.
-Stop talking.

-Are you the chef?
-No.

-Did you say something?
-I haven't.

Come on. Okay, then.

Since we didn't have movies or TV,

there was no way to be entertained.

That's how we ended up with nine children.

We went straight to...

the action.

I was born in 1943, you know?

No, you are 75 years old.

Come on, I'm 70.

My wife and I started the business
50 years ago.

We started in a little corner.

We've triumphed, and have been able
to grow from the bottom

and rise to the top.

Gabi!

Please.

Put gas in it.

Your dad’s going to load it up.
He’s loading it up.

At 18,

my parents arranged my marriage
to Mr. Hilario.

We hadn't fallen in love.

We hadn't even met or said, "Hello."

Here.

At that time,
parents decided who you should marry.

They said, "Because the man is the man."

So the women always loses,
in everything.

So I got married.

Bolivia is a bit machista,

and some men don't let their wives work.

But at home, I felt like a caged lion.

A few years later we had two daughters.

We weren't able to provide for our family.

I decided that I won't let myself
be controlled.

And my life changed completely.

I told Mr. Hilario, "No."

"No one tells me what to do.
I'm going to work."

"I'm going to open a street food stall."

I thought,
"If I'm going to make something...

it has to be unique."

That day,
I decided to make potato rellenos.

Bye, my love.

Bye.

That was the first time I was happy
in a long time.

I called it, "Rellenitos de Doña Emi."

In La Paz,

we maintain our traditions
of connecting with the dead.

It's an important ritual
where families gather

to visit their deceased loved ones.

When I was younger,

I remember going with my grandmother

to the cemetery to visit
my two great-grandmothers.

After praying and offering flowers
to the dead,

my grandmother would take us to eat
traditional cinnamon sorbet.

Cinnamon sorbet is known
as "the sorrow remover."

It has become a classic in La Paz.

Sugar lifts your spirits.

The cinnamon sorbet is boiled cinnamon,

some sugar,

and a little food coloring.

It has been a tradition since my parents
started it 80 years ago.

They started by bringing ice
from the mountain range.

Back then the ice was transported
by llamas.

Each llama carried...

two blocks of ice.

But the weather isn't the same as before.

Before, the sun was warm.

Now, it burns.

And the sorbet melts immediately.

We have been affected by global warming.

But it doesn't matter if there's sun,

rain, thunder, lightning,

or hail.

The client still comes to eat sorbet.

When I was 22 years old,

I started selling potato rellenos.

Good morning.

Let's go over there.

Here we go.

At that time,
street stands were prohibited.

Whenever someone set up a stall,

the town hall would immediately
knock it down.

Here we go.

The police didn't allow me to sell.

Some days I was arrested
for the whole day.

When the police were around,

street vendors and I would have to hide.

And my friend's son Peter,

he was our guard
and would be on the lookout.

The boy was seven years old.

He would whistle...

to let us know an officer was around.

I started selling one, two, three a day.

What can I do with that?

What could I do?

How could I survive?

How can I support my daughters?

Everything was a disaster.

I thought it was the end of the world.

I felt I could leave everything behind
and go.

But I told myself,
"No, Emiliana, you can't give up."

I thought, "You have the right to sell.

You have the right to work,
earn money and eat."

I became a badass.

I demanded that the police
allow me to sell.

They allowed me to set up
somewhere else

to sell my rellenos.

That's how I started to get customers.

But other street vendors
were jealous of me.

Well, ladies and gentlemen!

-The gold champion cholita...
-Thanks.

...Carla Greta!

One morning, while my goddaughter
and I were setting up my stall,

there was this woman.

I called her the three-headed snake.

She instigated
several other street vendors

into coming into my space.

Get out!

It was just my goddaughter and me
against 40 street vendors.

Suddenly, the three-headed-snake

smacked me across the face.

She told me,
"You can't come and sell here!"

Get out!

I grabbed her and told her,
"You're not...

going to smack me,
you don't own the streets."

So we started a fist fight.

We went from punching each other
to hitting each other with sticks.

Suddenly, the police intervened.

The police said to me, "Lady, be quiet!

Be quiet, lady!"

But I wouldn't be quiet.

I had to fight for my stand.

-Hit her hard!
-Do it!

You have to fight in this world.

And if you back down, you lose.

Potato, rice, plantain, potato,
plantain, rice.

Which one? Potato?

The fight lifted me out of the mud.

Now, the street vendors

don't have the right to disturb me.

They left me alone.

Potato, rice, plantain.

Hi, sweetie, good morning.

Since that day, it's gone well.

Which one, sir? Good morning.

Good morning, ma'am. Potato?

Okay. Here it is.

There's salsa.

I created eight kinds of salsas.

And I also created rellenos
with rice and plantain.

And that's when my business
began to take off.

I sold...

You can't imagine how much I sold.

I set up another stand in Montes.

Then I started another stand
in Saint Francisco.

So I needed more workers.

I felt very successful.

And in that moment,

I realized that I no longer had to fight.

In La Paz,
street food is a huge representation

of Bolivian gastronomy.

And the variety is endless.

Our history is represented by each dish.

There's nothing like Bolivian food.

But you just can't eat
for the sake of eating.

You have to be satisfied.

We don't serve anything fancy, but...

the cinnamon sorbet
is a Bolivian cultural heritage.

I would like to continue
making people happy

by serving them a cinnamon sorbet.

Behind each stall there's a human story.

My mom started selling
the chola sandwich.

My mom was a cute cholita.

To be a cholita
is something to be proud of.

You now see many cholitas

working jobs that you didn't see before.

You see scientists, college professors,

you even see cholitas

working as wrestlers.

It's the time of empowerment

of the cholita and their culture.

It's fighting women like Emiliana

who keep the Bolivian gastronomy alive.

What makes Emiliana so special
is her story

of overcoming despite all obstacles.

It hasn't been easy.

That's life.

And if the rellenos stalls fail,

I'll come up with something else.

Because I care for myself, I love myself,
and I value myself.

When I decided to stand up for myself,

that's when I started to love myself.

I kiss my hands like this,
hug myself and say, "I love myself."

That's how I do it.

Say, "Hello."

Here's your car. Let's get in your car.

I'm getting old...

with my rellenos.

I've been selling them
for 30 years now.

My granddaughter, Emilu.

My chubby baby.

I live for her.

Very good! Let's see!

At the end of the day,
I've finished raising my daughters.

Their professions and education
are the best inheritance one could give.

No one can take that away.

Now they have wings, they can fly.

I love her so much.

What would you say about her?

Only my grandma and I were cholitas.

Now, Emilu.

-What is she going to be?
-A cholita?

Maybe you'll like it?

-She says, “Yes.”
-“Yes,” you see?

She says, “Yes.”

How about that?

My life.

How about that?

I'm crying and laughing.

It seems crazy to you, right?

Crazy that someone is crying.

Tears coming out of their eyes.

What do you think of that?

But laughing with her mouth!

Is that right? I'm a hypocrite.

So that's it.

That's my life.

What I've lived

in the 53 years I've been alive.