You grind them into to powder then snort them up your nose! Well, of course not. Although many people make the mistake, the centuries-old tradition of chewing coca leaves has absolutely nothing to do with cocaine. In their natural form, coca leaves provide nothing more than a mild stimulant, akin to coffee. Brewing the leaves into tea is popular among all levels of Bolivian society, but among the working class, and especially for those whose labor is physically demanding, coca is usually chewed.

While “chewing” is the popular term for it, the leaves should never actually be munched upon. Instead, they should be placed one-by-one into the cheek, forming a small saliva-generating ball which you just leave there. Because the stems of the leaves can hurt the inside of your cheek, you should remove them first. Some remove the stems by sliding the leaves between their two front teeth, while others use a lick-fold-tear method.

After you’ve got a good amount of leaves squirreled away inside your cheek, you need to activate their alkaloids inside them to feel any effect. Some people use bicarbonate powder, but a more pleasant option is lejía: a sweet-tasting combination of ash and flavor. A tiny nip every fifteen minutes or so, and the mild stimulant effects of the coca can last for hours.

Chewing coca leaves acts as an appetite suppressant, helps with altitude sickness, provides energy and improves digestion. It also mildly numbs your cheek. It’s impossible to get “addicted” to chewing the leaves, and they don’t provide any sort of high. Making cocaine out of coca leaves is a complicated, chemical process, and chewing the leaves is no more an act of “drug consumption” than eating a poppy-seed bagel.

While we were on the ferry over to the Isla del Sol, we were subjected to a monologue from a self-impressed British guy wearing colorful over-sized sunglasses and a shark’s tooth necklace. All the awesome places he’s been! All the incredible things he’s done! He had a bag of coca with him, and shoved a handful into his mouth, actually chewing them like a cow chews grass. As he did so, he bragged about how awesome coca was and how he felt an instant buzz. We had to stifle our urge to push him off the boat. Please, don’t be that guy.

- The Unfairly Maligned Coca Leaf

Prison Stories

One of the most famous prisons in the world is the inmate-run San Pedro, smack in the center of La Paz. Yep, I said “inmate-run”. Authorities guard the gates, but within the walls of the block-sized facility, the prisoners run the operations.

Years ago, tours of the prison were high up on the adventurist’s itinerary for La Paz, but the government has cracked down on them. It’s still possible to get inside, but you’ll need to make an effort and run into the right people. People like our new friend, New York Dave.

The first time we walked through Plaza Sucre, Dave pounced on us like a puma on prey. Barefoot and dressed in dirty, ripped clothing, he immediately struck up a conversation with us. Dave explained that he was a prisoner in San Pedro, but was allowed outdoors a few hours a day. Twelve years ago, he was jailed on trumped-up drug charges, but would be released in two weeks. The story sounded fishing, but his enthusiasm for his impending release was convincing, as were his answers to our “gotcha” questions.

We allowed Dave to walk us around the plaza and tell us about the prison. He clearly knew a lot about its history and the society within. San Pedro was built in 1895, with a capacity of 400 prisoners. Today, about 1500 mostly non-violent drug offenders are crammed inside, including quite a few foreigners. San Pedro is a city unto itself, with market stalls, organized elections, barbershops, restaurants, and groups of children playing. Coca-Cola has even purchased exclusive advertising rights within the walls! Families move in with their husbands and fathers, and a lively cocaine trade keeps the prison economy running smoothly — de facto legal, since policeman almost never venture inside.

Dave possibly could have gotten us into San Pedro, but neither Jürgen nor I had any desire. As compensation for his helpful history of the prison, he asked if we could buy him some coffee at the store. “That big jar should last for the rest of my two weeks!” At the checkout line, he added a bag of sugar and sardines, pushing his luck, then said goodbye.

A couple minutes later, we saw him at a different store, selling back the groceries for cash. I couldn’t have been any less shocked, and Dave didn’t even try and disguise what he was doing. Regardless of his tricks, or possibly because of them, we had a great time talking to one the more interesting characters we’ve had a chance to meet in La Paz.

In 2003, British citizen Rusty Young, a one-time inmate of San Pedro, wrote an extremely popular account of his prisoner days called Marching Powder. We haven’t read it yet, but have been told that it’s an engaging look inside one of the world’s strangest makeshift societies.

Location of the San Pedro Prison on our Bolivia Map