Bolivian WWF

On our last day in Bolivia, before our scheduled flight to Panama, we decided to do something typically Bolivian and go and see the wrestling. Yes the wrestling. Apparently it's all the rage in El Alto, one of the poorer suburbs of La Paz.

On the day in question we were both severely hungover, and it was touch and go whether we would make it to the "arena" at all. Fortunately we purchased tourist tickets (at around double the rate of normal tickets) which entitled us to minibus transfer to/from our hostel, as well as a free snack, souvenir, and one free use of the toilet. The minibus transfer was essential as we did not possess enough working brain cells to get there independently.

We arrived to find the venue unheated and freezing cold (naturally). We were ushered to our front row seats, and presented with our snack and souvenir - some disgusting bright orange wotsit type things, and a 3mm high representation of a Bolivian woman in traditional dress (called a Cholita).

We were significantly more impressed with our free gifts however, than with the quality of the next 2 hours of "wrestling" that we were forced to witness. The first battle was between a man crammed into a cheap looking skeleton costume, verses another man in an extremely tight spandex number. The "fighting" took the form of scripted, rehearsed and incredibly poorly executed wrestling moves of the type seen in late 1980s WWF bouts, except without the talent, athleticism or personality. The Bolivian crowd, consisting mainly of fanatical middle aged woman - and some slightly less fanatical children - absolutely loved it. The ringside tourists, including us, didn't.

The next fight wasn't much better, but it did include a "bad guy" who everyone booed and threw whatever food they could at him (namely, the disgusting bright orange wotsit type things). Once everyone had run out of ammunition, the fight was equally appalling, and lasted a very long half hour.

We prayed the third fight would be an improvement. It wasn't, and we began to lose the will to live. Liz passed out on my shoulder for most of the fight, and I began to curse the fact that we had to wait until the bitter end to get the minibus back. After the third epic battle had finally ended, it was time for the interval. We had sat there, unpleasantly hung over, for 2 hours of a truly awful spectacle ... and we were only half way through.

We made a decision - if the next fight wasn't any good, we'd eschew our lift home and try and make our own way back. The extra expense and brain ache would be infinitely better than sitting through another 2 hours of that rubbish.

The contenders for the next battle marched out to their signature theme tunes. We were primed and ready to sneak out. Then something strange and wonderful happened. One of the wrestlers appeared to be a woman. A woman in traditional dress ... a Cholita! Once in the ring she began to beat her (male) opponent really quite viciously, and with more gusto than any of the previous combatants. It was still a rehearsed fight, but this one was far better acted and much more entertaining than the preceding three. We decided to postpone our leaving time by a bit longer.

Then, suddenly, after the Cholita had thrown her opponent out of the ring - a man in a wolf suit leapt from under the canvas, grabbed the man, and dragged him back under. Without an opponent, the Cholita turned her attention on the ref. She threw him against the ropes, hit him in the face, clotheslined him, picked him up, chucked him violently to the floor - all the usual tricks. This continued for a few minutes until her original oppenent crawled out from under the canvas with all his clothes ripped. The man in the wolf suit then emerged, and started swinging at everything in sight. The three "humans" all clubbed together to try and beat this wolf-man up, but failed miserably at each turn. As a last resort, the ref "found" some wooden crates that they proceded to throw at the wolf-man, and some rope that they briefly managed to tie him up with. The wolf-man escaped from these traps then used the crates to batter his assailants with. He "knocked-out" the Cholita and the ref with tremendous blows to the head with the crates (which actually shattered on impact) then suplexed the Cholita's original opponent, pinning to the canvas in the process. The stadium announcer heralded the wolf-man as victor and he left to a chorus of boos, stopping only to scare some middle-aged fanatics in the front row. Stage hands then appeared to drag the "unconscious" bodies of the other 3 out.

It was one of the most bizzare half hours of my life.

The last two fights followed the same theme without ever reaching the surreal heights of that one. There was a Cholita vs. Big Old Fat Woman fight which was entertaining, and a 2-on-2 male battle to finish it off. We also heard rumours of an appearance by a dwarf, which sadly failed to materialise. In total we spent 4 hours in the cold of the arena; two in pain and boredom, one-and-a-half having fun, and thirty minutes in complete culture shock. All in all - worth it.