crossing cultures

In my travels I like to visit places where the culture is not too corrupted by foreign influences.  But on the other hand I do enjoy that strange mixing of cultures that I sometimes find myself in.

I Bolivia, I sat one afternoon in Café London on the shore of Lake Titicaca, drinking a cappuccino, trying to read the next chapter of the Koran (prompted by the growth of IS and its affiliates I thought it important to know something of what drives them), Bolivian radio playing James Brown's "Get On Up (Like a Sex Machine)"... I looked up when I heard a ringing sound only to see an Aymara woman, in her traditional dress, walk past pushing a mobile ice cream trolley.  An equally strange combination to me was this seemingly middle class house and car, with four llamas in the garden:

At the same time I very much enjoyed my experience in a cool underground bar in La Paz, when an Aymara woman joined us.  She accepted a glass of whatever strange brew we were drinking, but poured a small drop onto the floor - for Pachamama (mother earth) - before drinking herself, then proceeded to ask me about typical society in the UK, seemingly with genuine interest.  A magical evening