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Published: December 1st 2008
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Back on the dubious buses and yes, we had the obligatory breakdown on a mountain pass and annoying kids on the seat behind, screaming and kicking, but after a beautiful and eventful climb through the Bolivian Andes we arrived in the highest city in the world; Potosi. Sat in front of the city is an almost perfect, conical mountain that is savagely scarred. From base to summit it is shredded by hundreds of years mining and the result is an ugly heap, but this is the reason people come to Potosi. It was once one of the richest cities in the world, due to the silver accidently discovered by a trapped farmer during the early Spanish rule and so it was pludered. Now it's the epitome of everything that's bad with the commercial world and the savages of capitalism.
Unlike the outskirts of Potosi, the centre still manages to retain its beauty from the colonial era and again there are some fantastic churches and old governmental buildings and it has a real charm that (save Sucre) most Bolivian towns don't have. The streets are bustling and intruiging and the backward image that Bolivia has to the outside world is yet again
shattered, but the trip to the mines brought back, very suddenly, the Bolivia that is abused and exploited.
Evo Morales is the first ethnic, indigenous president of Bolivia and he is trying to do away with the injustices that plague Bolivia and break free from the chains of the U.S. government and its multinationals that drag Bolivia and many Latin American countries down. He is on the right path, but he has a long way to go in Potosi.
We had to sign forms for going down the mines to release our tour company from any obligations relating to accidents or death! These mines are still, very much in use, though not really for silver anymore and they are genuinly dangerous. Rail wagons fly in and out and there are constant booms from exploding dynamite, but many people had told us that this was a must and the dangers were worth it. We were all kitted up and looked like complete prats, as you can see from the photos! We arrived at the mine entrance after a short tour of the processing plant and drunk some disgusting spirit that the workers were passing around. When we entered we could hear
a scary echo of a trolley approaching and down the tracks from deep inside and so we dived to the side and pinned ouselves against the mine wall to avoid being mown down by the trolley. We were then taken into a cavern where a devil sat with his penis out! Apparently he decides how many minerals are taken and who dies! We read about the 9 million people who have died down the mines and about the ruthless oppression of anyone who joined a trade union, about the dangers and terrible conditions still present now. The average age of a worker is 45 because they all get sillicosis. The people who work down this mine are desperate men, some as young as 12. They work for a pittence while the huge mineral companies grab the profits. The better a mineral is doing on the stock marker, the more people work in the mines. Anyway, we ventured further into the mine with our guide, Pedro and soon we were on all fours going almost vertically down in the air filled with thick dust. This, multiplied by the lack of oxygen and intense heat made breathing next to impossible and most
of the men work here everyday god sends them for as many hours as their bodies will take. Eventually we arrived at the base and 2 guys without masks were digging away. Will filled 2 baskets each and were completely exhausted and refused to do anymore. Pedro was trying to show us just what these guys have to go through. Pedro himself had been down the mines 11 year. On the way out we chatted about what the government is doing for them and they do nothing. Though the workers seemed happy and joked with us they are an oppressed and desperate people and this is all they can do to scrape a living together. Evo Morales is trying to get things done, but his government are a bunch of corrupt pigs obsessed with the Yankee dollar and its the men and children who work down these mines that bear the brunt of it. Hopefully one day, Bolivia, like the rest of Latin America will be free from this noose.
Outside the mine the fun began and we lit the dynamite sticks we bought earlier for some boyish fun and it was great. It kind of lightened the soberness that
going down the mine had brought about, though I was soon brought back to earth when I looked around. The mines were a real eye opener for me personally and hopefully one day, those guys will get a fair deal, but there is a long way to go. I know this blog seems more like a political rant than a description of our experiences and many of the people who know me will be complaining that I'm trying to bang our my stupid, boring, outdated socialist views, but if you could just see the injustices there with your own eyes you may forgive me slightly.
We all had a much needed shower and hit the town, but it was not the night to go out; everywhere was closed and so we headed back to the hostel a little dissapointed. The next morning we got another dubious bus and headed for Uyuni. The ugliest gateway town to the most amazing landscape you could ever wish to see.
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