Residents walk along a dirt road in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, which sits along the salt-crusted former shoreline of Lake Poopo, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. Bolivia's second-largest lake dried up about five years ago, victim of shrinking glaciers, water diversions for farming and contamination. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
PUNACA TINTA MARIA, Bolivia (AP) - For many generations, the homeland of the Uru people here wasn't land at all: It was the brackish waters of Lake Poopo.
The Uru - 'œpeople of the water'ť - would build a sort of family island of reeds when they married and would survive on what they could harvest from the broad, shallow lake in the highlands of southwestern Bolivia.
'œThey collected eggs, fished, hunted flamingos and birds. When they fell in love, the couple built their own raft," said Abdón Choque, leader of Punaca, a town of some 180 people.
Now what was Bolivia's second-largest lake is gone. It dried up about five years ago, victim of shrinking glaciers, water diversions for farming and contamination. Ponds reappear in places during the rainy season.
And the Uru of Lake Poopo are left clinging to its salt-crusted former shoreline in three small settlements, 635 people scrabbling for ways to make a living and struggling to save even their culture.
'œOur grandfathers thought the lake would last all their lives, and now my people are near extinction because our source of life has been lost," said Luis Valero, leader of the Uru communities around the lake.
Not long before the lake was lost, the language of the Uru-Cholo had perished as well. The last native speakers gradually died and younger generations grew up schooled in Spanish and working in other, more common Indigenous languages, Aymara and Quechua.
To save their identities, the communities are trying to revive that language - or at least its closest sibling. Aided by the government and a local foundation, they have invited teachers from a related branch of the Uru, the Uru-Chipaya near the Chilean border to the west, to teach that tongue - one of 36 officially recognized Bolivian languages - to their children.
'œIn this times, everything changes. But we are making efforts to maintain our culture,'ť Valero said. 'œOur children have to recover the language to distinguish us from our neighbors.'ť
'œThe instructors teach us the language with numbers, songs and greetings,'ť said Avelina Choque, a 21 year old student who said she one day would like to teach mathematics. 'œIt's a little difficult to pronounce.'ť
The pandemic has added to that struggle. The teachers have been unable to hold in-person classes during the pandemic, leaving students to learn from texts, videos and radio programs.
.Punaca Mayor Rufino Choque said the Uru began settling on the lakeshore several decades ago as the lake began to shrink, though by then, most of the lands around them had been occupied.
'œWe are ancient (as a people), but we have no territory. Now we have no source of work, nothing," said the 61-year-ild mayor, whose town consists of ribbon of round, plastered block homes along an earthen street.
With no land for farming, the young men hire themselves out as laborers, herders or miners in nearby towns or more distant cities. 'œThey see the money and they don't return,'ť said Abdón. Some of the woman make handicrafts of straw.
The broader Uru people once dominated a large swath of the region, and branches remain around Peru and Lake Titicaca to the north, around the Chilean border and near the Argentine border.
Residents walk past a cement post decorated with a smiley face and a message that reads in Uru; 'I'm happy,' in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. None of the inhabitants speak Uru, the language of their ancestors. However, in the past few years they have decided to recover their native language. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Rufino Choque, the mayor of the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, waits for the arrival of instructors, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. Lago Poopo, Bolivia's second-largest lake, gave life to a rich culture since the first men set foot on the Altiplano but it dried up about five years ago. 'We are ancient, but we have no territory. Now we have no source of work, nothing,' said Choque. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Jose Choque stands next to his work that he wrote on a dry erase board during a Uru language lesson, in a classroom in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. The last native speakers gradually died and younger generations grew up schooled in Spanish and working in other, more common Indigenous languages, Aymara and Quechua. To save their identities, the Urus are trying to revive their native language. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Instructor Marina Vasquez and student Jose Choque go over his homework at the local school in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. Aided by the government and a local foundation, community elders have invited teachers from a related branch of the Uru, to teach their native tongue - one of 36 officially recognized Bolivian languages - to their children. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Abelina Choque writes on a dry erase board the Uru word for thanks, during an Uru language lesson at the local school in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. "This culture (Uru) is in extinction, so it needs support from the authorities of the municipality, of the government, of the national authorities to survive, to preserve the culture, its cultural heritage," says Wilson Alvarez Ticona, Director of the "Uru Murato" school. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Abelina Choque stands inside her classroom next to her work, left, she wrote out on a dry erase board, during an Uru language lesson, in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. 'The instructors teach us the language with numbers, songs and greetings,' said Choque, a 21-year-old student who said she one day would like to teach mathematics. 'It's a little difficult to pronounce.' (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
A resident removes her dried laundry from a clothesline in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. 'Our grandfathers thought the lake would last all their lives, and now my people are near extinction because our source of life has been lost," said Luis Valero, leader of the Uru communities around the lake. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Members of the Choque family, from left, Jose, Evarista Flores, Rufino, Abelina and Abdon, pose for a photo in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. With no land for farming, the young men hire themselves out as laborers, herders or miners in nearby towns or more distant cities. 'They see the money and they don't return,' said Abdon. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Handmade dolls depicting an Uru family lay on a woven textile in the home of Evarista Flores, in the Urus del Lago Poopo indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Monday, May 24, 2021. For many generations, the Uru - "people of the water" - would build a sort of family island of reeds when they married and would survive on what they could harvest from the broad, shallow lake in the highlands of southwestern Bolivia. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
A stuffed flamingo hangs in the home of Mayor Rufino Choque in the Urus del Lago Poopo Indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. For many generations, the homeland of the Uru wasn't land at all: It was the brackish waters of Lake Poopo. Choque said the Uru - 'people of the water' - began settling on the lakeshore several decades ago as the lake began to shrink. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
A feather is caught in a blade of straw in the entrance of a home in the Urus del Lago Poopo Indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. To save their identities, the Uru communities are trying to revive their native language - or at least its closest sibling. The last native speakers gradually died and younger generations grew up schooled in Spanish and working in other, more common Indigenous languages, Aymara and Quechua. '¨(AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Sweaters hang on a clothing line as the sun sets in in the Urus del Lago Poopo Indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. Since the lake dried up about five years ago, the Uru - "people of the water" - are left clinging to its salt-crusted former shoreline scrabbling for ways to make a living. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
Mayor Rufino Choque is silhouetted against a sunset sky in the Urus del Lago Poopo Indigenous community, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. 'Our grandfathers thought the lake would last all their lives, and now my people are near extinction because our source of life has been lost," said Luis Valero, leader of the Uru communities around Lake Poopo, Bolivia's second-largest lake that dried up about five years ago. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press
A resident drives his motorcycle on a dirt path alongside the salt-crusted former shoreline of Lake Poopo, in Punaca, Bolivia, Sunday, May 23, 2021. For many generations, the homeland of the Uru wasn't land at all: It was the brackish waters of Lake Poopo. Now what was Bolivia's second-largest lake is gone. It dried up about five years ago, victim of shrinking glaciers, water diversions for farming and contamination. (AP Photo/Juan Karita)
The Associated Press