Disclaimer: The following update describes scenes of a disturbing nature. Everything we are about to write is correct and accurate at the time of publishing and much as we wish it weren't - it is! If you think you're up for it, read on. If you want to have pleasant dreams tonight, just close your browser and get on with whatever you were doing before your curiosity got the better of you!
Okay, so the last update was about our trip over from Peru to Bolivia and how fascinating and stimulating Bolivia was, right? Well, after La Paz, we decided to go even higher up and got on a bus for 12 hours to Potosi - the world's highest city at a dizzying 4,100m above sea level. Why Potosi? Because of its famous silver mines for which it has at times been cursed, blessed, rich and depressed. The city was founded in 1545 and the discovery of silver mines in the nearby "Cerro Rico" proved so rich that Potosi quickly grew into Latin America's largest and wealthiest city. But in order to satisfy the greedy demands of the those in power, millions of indigenous people and imported African slaves were put to work in the mines as slaves in appalling conditions. In the early 19th century, silver production began to flag and Potosi's luck took a turn for the worse. These days it is a continuing demand for tin which keeps the city alive although small-scale silver extraction still takes place. Sadly, the working conditions within the mines have not changed much with time. The International markets dictate the price of metals exported, in turn, this restricts how much miners earn and so they continue to work in appalling conditions for very little.
To our surprise, it is actually possible to go down into one of the active mines on a three hour tour to see what it's all about. Easy, right? Read on...
The first giveaway that this trip might be slightly less tame than our other fancy, protected tourist attraction tours was the long disclaimer which we had to sign declaring that we were aware that as an "active mine", we were getting ourselves into pretty "unstable" territory that may at any time be blown up or collapse. Hmmmm...doesn't exactly pump you full of confidence, does it? But we signed it anyway, and turned up ready and waiting at 8am for the trip of a lifetime.
Our first stop was at our guide's house to change into our mining outfits: overtrousers, a jacket, wellie boots, a helmet and a headlamp with a big battery strapped to our belts. We were only allowed to bring small daybags with us, and were advised to bring a lot of water. So far, so good.
Our second stop however was at the "Miners' market" where 120 shops supply 6,000 miners with ALL the equipment they need "in there" - from wheelbarrows, spades and gloves to nitroglycerine dynamite sticks (50 US cents each), detonators, fuses, ammonium nitrate and (importantly) alcohol, cigarettes and coca leaves. Oh and ofcourse lots and lots of coca leaves. A worrying combination! You know how, at home, they don't sell alcohol at Petrol stations, well, such sensible product division is not present in Bolivia!.... The idea was to get the miners gifts to give to them on our journey. They earn between 2.5 and 7 US dollars per day depending on the quality of the ore that they find, and 0 US dollars if there are no minerals at all. So you see, they're really quite appreciative of our gifts. Our group even scored a "completo" (the complete kit for the mother of all explosions) for a bargain 2.25 US dollars for our guide to blow up in a demonstration at the end of the day. No joke!
We got back in the bus with our mining gifts (mostly soft drinks and coca leaves) and headed to Stop number 3 - the processing plant, so that we could see what happens to the ore between being extracted and being ready for export as silver, zinc, tin or lead. The process is primitive! The ore is basically pulverised in big crushing drums in which chemicals are added, having been distributed 'evenly' by plastic cups going round and round on a rotating wheel!
Finally - to stop number 4, the great climb up (by bus) to the single mountain "Cerro Rico" (rich mountain) which has 120 active mines in it (manned by 6,000 men as previously mentioned). There are no maps of the various tunnels having been dug inside (each mine has 4-9 levels in it) and no one group has much idea of what the other 119 groups are up to. Hence the waiver!? It was all beginning to make sense to us....but we were too far now to turn back and our only choice was to bravely venture into the heart of this mountain which might at any point collapse and kill us. Sounds dramatic, we know - but this was a real danger and one that we were aware of throughout the next (longest) three hours of our lives...
After becoming accustomed to the darkness and the narrowness of the tunnel (comparable to the Vien Moch tunnels we saw in Vietnam), the first thing that struck us was the overpowering caustic smell which in no time at all had completely dried out the back of our throats and caused an intense burning sensation in our lungs which was to last us until a good couple hours after we had exited the mines. The second thing which caught our attention was a deep rumbling sound getting closer to us which turned out to be a 2-tonne trolley being "ridden" like a bobsleigh by 4 miners (like in Indian Jones) who used their feet to brake and tried not to derail although this happens all the time. The said "tunnels" are naturally too small and narrow to accomodate for our group of 7 plus the guide plus the trolley and four miners, and the trolley gets right of way - so we then had to either leg it up the dark tunnel to find a suitable alcove to shelter in, or alternatively we had to plaster ourselves up against the wall and pray that THIS one wouldn't derail... Our guide told us that 'light signals' were used to ensure our safety and to avoid collisions, but we were not convinced. As if this weren't enough to keep our fragile minds busy - we were simultaneously trying to dodge the large pipes which stretched across the 1m ceiling, carrying either (leaking) compressed air or live electricity.
The further down you go into the mine, the narrower and steeper the tunnels become until you are literally writhing on the muddy floor to get through a hole which will only accomodate you without your little rucksack. Back away claustrophobes - this adventure is NOT for you! Actually, neither of us has ever suffered from claustrophobia but we were both verging on minor panic attacks at various times during this trip (we hope that people who know us are aware that this feeling would not be enduced easily). Bear in mind that we were already at a significant 4,100 metres, and also that we were about 1km deep into the heart of a great big mountain, so even on a good day - breathing would have been a challenge. Now add to that the caustic gases, a haze of airbourne dust and the stifling 40-degree temperature and you might just imagine what it was like....
On we went, further and further until we stopped in the first chamber which houses the statue of the devil (who the miners believe own the mountain) although they refer to him as "El Tio" (the uncle) because "he is more like family to them". Indeed, the devil and "pachamama" (mother earth) together are responsible for the welfare of these miners, and all of them strongly believe in keeping up good relations with both. This means that before every drink, a few drops of alcohol are spilt on the floor as an offering, as are coca leaves and cigarettes. However - the miners also believe that the purer the alcohol they drink is, the purer the silver will be that El Tio rewards them with. Therefore, they drink 96% alcohol as if it were water, and our guide made us try some. It tastes as bad as it smells. We don't recommend it, it's vile.
After paying our respects to El Tio (coca offerings, nasty evil alcohol and cigarettes) we moved on to a second chamber where 2 miners were shovelling ore into big (medieval) rubber baskets which were then winched up to the 1st floor on a pulley system which was referred to as an 'elevator'. This was one of 450 baskets to be filled and pullied up that day, as for with every few minutes that passed, yet another 2-tonne trolley would come crashing through the chamber and unload more ore to be shovelled into the baskets. Our sharing guide handed us each a spade and told us to have a go...but we think he was just showing off: For every 5 spades the miners filled and dumped, we could barely fill one, and after only 2 or 3 minutes we were all panting and out of breath, unable to continue. Sadly "quitting" is not a choice which our miner-friends have, for "time is money". That is why, two or three times per week they pull a "dobla" (double-shift) which means that they work for 24 hours straight with at most a 4 hour break. But, that's not all! While 'on shift', the miners do not eat. They can't. It is so hot and they are sweating so much that they don't have the physical energy to digest food. If they tried to eat, they would either vomit or suffer from diarrhoea. So instead, they chew vast amounts of coca leaves for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Indeed, each miner without fail has a hamster-pouch full of the stuff in one cheek which he chews for about 4 hours before spitting out and replacing. That is the only form of 'nutrition' which they receive (other than liquids/alcohol) while working although as you may have read from our previous 'coca' information - it actually works in their favour as a stimulant for their stamina and endurance.
The final chamber we visited was on the lowest level of this particular mine (about 100m deep into the earth) and is comparable only to Hell! Here, the miners were boring out (by hand) 6 dynamite-shaped cavities to be blown up later that day. Our own guide (having been a miner himself for 5 years) knew the team quite well. They were ex-colleagues, and we all poured ourselves into the tiniest of holes, crawling on our hands and knees and cramped ourselves into an asphyxiating cavity for a "chat" to get to know them better! By this point we were wondering why on earth we had paid for this tour... honestly, we're up for different adventures and we like a challenge, but THIS one really takes the biscuit and is an experience we can safely say that we never want to have again.... Anyway, so the "team leader" was a 39-year-old father of 6. Most miners have up to 12 children (the more miners in the family, the more money, right?). His eldest son (21 years) was working alongside him and had been in the mines since the tender age of 13. Some of them start as young as 8... About 50% of the miners eventually suffer from infectious respiratory disorders like silicosis and tuberculosis. If these don't kill them, there's a whole host of other nasties that will: mental illness, physical impediments and digestive infections. In fact, the life expectancy of a Potosi miner is exactly 10 years from the day he first enters the mines. Any man over 40 is considered old. We'll think about that next time we're having a "bad day" at work.
Finally, when we just couldn't take any more and were really struggling to breathe, our guide escorted us coughing and spluttering out to the safety of the outdoors.... Just to finish off our nerves we still had our "completo" to detonate. The guide set up the fuse and placed our little dynamite stick inside a bag of ammonium nitrate and then casually walked into a small field about 50m away. He yelled out "careful!" to any wandering passer-byers or dogs and then the bloody thing let rip! The blast of the explosion shocked us all so much that not one person from our group managed to get a photo despite the fact that we were all poised and ready.
Well, that's what we did the other today. Needless to say that we will never again take silver, lead, zinc or tin for for granted. Bit by bit our trip has thrown things at us to challenge us and teach us to appreciate "life as we know it". After this excursion we will add "the right to breathe clean air" to our long list of things to be grateful for.
Thanks for reading!
Emily and Chris.