Bolivia

He and his late wife had visited many countries from around the world.

Now, several years into his retirement, he was only left with memories. It had been their passion. Every year, having saved very carefully to cover the expenses involved in travelling overseas, the fares and the accommodation, etcetera, they managed to visit the cities and towns of their choice. It began soon after their marriage, discovering that they weren’t able to have children, and continued as regular as clockwork. Unfortunately, their time together came to an end and the plan to visit Bolivia was never realised. Looking back over the years since then, he had often thought about how excited she had been about visiting the ‘Witches Market’, a popular tourist attraction located in a mountain clearing in La Paz.

He thought about how she was always seeking out shops that sold strange items, everything from unconventional jewellery to bizarre artifacts that promised good fortune. The market in question would have been an ideal place to wander through, with its strange medicinal plants, magic talismans, powders and potions. This, their final trip abroad, never happened.

It happened on a Saturday. He was sitting, reading the paper, when he came across an intriguing article about a recent case of fraud. The owner of a small, jade figurine had tried to have it auctioned as an original. The claim was that it was the missing piece from a set of three; the other two were held on display in the city’s museum of art. It was said to be the third piece from the Qing Dynasty.

Had it not been discovered by the auction house to be a clever fake; it would have been worth well over a million. However, although it had been beautifully made, the expert for the major auction house had checked the base, looking for a specific Chinese character, and found nothing.

Reading the article, something stirred within him; memories of such a thing, seen as a child. Driven by nothing more than curiosity, he lowered the ladder and climbed up into the loft. This was something he hadn’t done for so many years. Everything was covered with dust. Fortunately, the natural light was good. There were boxes, bags and cases scattered around the open space. He knew it comprised mainly of memorabilia from his parents, and probably their parents. He knew he would have to sort through it someday. This was probably a good time to at least make a start.

He had a vague recollection of what he was looking for. As a young boy he had been told to be careful when allowed to hold it. His mother must have thought it had some degree of value.

From the time he began opening and searching through the contents of the attic during the late morning to the moment he set eyes on it during the afternoon, more than five hours had passed. Lifting it out of the cardboard box, he saw that it had been wrapped in tissue paper. Taking it closer to the light, he carefully wiped away the coating of dust with his handkerchief and examined it. He turned it over and found the strange character, neatly carved in the base!

Standing motionless for several moments, and with very mixed feelings, he said, “Bolivia!”

17 thoughts on “Bolivia”

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