Where Everything is Measured in Fish and Sunsets

We hike to the next village over, descending to their Titicaca lakeshore pueblo where we encounter a family setting out to fish. "¿Hablan castellaño?"  Yes, they speak some Spanish.   I skip a few rocks with las niñas on the beach while the Viejito and his eldest granddaughter lay nets: a small half moon near the shore, spreading its fabric to hug the fish. Haul it in.  Empty.  No hay ahora.  Espera hasta mañana.

 They offer us a ride back to Tocoli by boat, and though I'm quite sure we could return faster walking, how could we refuse?  With Grandfather and Youngest Granddaughter we set out on the waters of Lago Titicaca at dusk.  We try to make conversation, despite Grandfather being hard of hearing and Youngest Granddaughter's shyness.  Their Spanish carries a heavy Aymara influence--difficult to understand.  Laying five nets for tomorrow's 4:00am fishing, we pass our shoreline tent.  We point it out to Youngest Granddaughter:  "Our casita--inside we have everything we need! A kitchen, living room, cows, sheep, everything!"  Youngest Granddaughter sizes us up, then cracks a smile.

 We consider offering 10 Bolivianos--about $1.40--as a thank you, but decide against it.  After hearing from Heidi and Calixto about the goals of the village, I sensed that individual payment to this man--however appropriate it seemed to us--would in fact go against what this community was trying to preserve.  Giving money to one man so that he's richer than his neighbors is an occidental, capitalist principal; it is "el mercado" (the market), as the Tocoli community called it in their pueblo meeting. El Mercado of dollars and cents, which is not how things are measured here.