We were in the middle of no where Bolivia, where there aren't any paved roads. Your road is made by whatever the rain and wind decide to give to you. At this point, the caravan of cars is trying to make it to the lodging for the night but we are stopped in our tracks by an impassable flow of water that was created by the rain shower. We wait for an hour until it is safe to pass.
In the meantime, the German Lady in our tour pulls out her guitar and decides to sing us a song. One is about her cat who steals sausages from children who come to visit her indian tent.
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