To Hell and Back

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The road from Uyuni to Potosi was half paved half gravel and wound round hills and mountains heralding spectacular views across wild terrain. The bus stopped occasionally in remote villages to pick up passengers and make the most of the limited space on board. The smooth paved section was a god-send and we were soon approaching Potosi - a historic town with a checkered mining history.

Potosi basically bankrolled the Spanish empire thanks to the fruits born from Cerro Rico - Rich Mountain. Silver was discovered here in 1556 and the Spanish wasted no time in exploiting the local indigenous labour force to extract it. The silver from the mountain was crucial to the Spanish Empire and helped them fund their armies and continued expeditions on the continent. The silver was shipped to Spain where much of it went straight to the Spanish monarchy - any shipments that were lost or plundered at sea were considered a national tragedy.

The Spanish Conquistadors worked the local population hard to extract the silver from the mine and even imported thousands of slaves from Africa to increase the mines output. The conditions these slaves had to work in were truly appalling. Miners would stay down in the mines for 4 months at a time on some occasions in the humid and toxic conditions. They would work for up to 16 hours a day in the sweltering heat with an estimated 8 million dying from the atrocious conditions over the period the Spanish controlled the mine. This even included children as young as 8 years old. At its peak over 15,000 miners were working in the cramped conditions within the depths of Cerro Rico.

Nowadays the mines of Cerro Rico do not produce much silver and the mountain is quite a bit shorter than it used to be. Still miners ply their trade deep in the depths of the hill mining for mainly zinc and copper sulphate. Silver only accounts for less than 10% of the mines output today. The mine allows tourists into its belly, which was my principle reason for being here. The tours allow a glimpse into the horrible conditions miners have to work in still to this day and the perils of the job they encounter on a daily basis.

I found my way to a central hostel and organised the tour for the following day. The tour begins at 9am with a short walk to a building where I had to change into some mining gear. The fetching outfit included a bright yellow top and matching trousers, wellington boots and a helmet with attached light. I looked incredibly ridiculous but ready to being my descent into the mine. Before this though, everyone stops at the Miners Market where gifts are bought for the miners.

The gifts are quite varied and represent a pretty good deal for the miners. They include some essentials for them to carry out their day to day activities and include fizzy drinks, coca leaves, 96% alcohol (which tastes rancid), cigarettes and my favorite - dynamite! Only in Bolivia are you able to buy sticks of dynamite at the local market along with ammonium nitrate for some extra impressive boom boom. I'd get the chance later to blow up my own stick, which was exciting stuff.

After this I re-boarded the bus as it rumbled steeply uphill towards the mine entrance. Potosi sits at a dizzying elevation of 4,090 metres above sea level and Cerro Rico rises a further 800 or so metres above this. We reached the mine entrance and enjoyed the views over Potosi from this level. The city is sprawled out in front of the mountain and falls away steeply towards other distant mountain ranges. It is an impressive view to drink in before approaching the mines entrance.

Before booking and embarking on the tour, wannabe miners are constantly reminded of the perils of descending into Cerro Rico, which was repeated by our guide at the gate. The mines are a dangerous place and are far from a stable structure. The conditions are cramped and humid with pools of fetid water underfoot and air that is thick with toxic chemicals which line that back of the throat and nose for days afterwards. The gates were opened and we started down the dark path. We began following a mine cart track, which began with plenty of head room but soon narrowed.

After making our way 500 or so metres into the mine the conditions became remarkably cramped. I was scrambling on my knees through filthy, smelly water and repeatedly hitting my head on the low rocky ceiling. The ceiling looks very precarious and was held up by broken bits of wood supports. We descended further, scrambling over rocks, ducking under narrow passages and skirting past bottomless pits. The air was thick with fumes which made breathing difficult but so far it was manageable.

It was time to make our way down another level in the mine - our guide motioned towards a tiny jagged hole in the rocky floor which had been blasted through to a larger opening. I had to squeeze myself through this, and feel my way feet first to each rung on the rickety wooden ladder below. The headlamp threw the faintest of glows onto the rocky walls around but the rest of the mine was pitch black. I occasionally glanced behind me but was unable to see anything at all. This tour certainly is not for claustrophobic individuals and even I felt unsettled being in narrow, precarious passages beneath tons of rock.

We descended further and as we did the mine began getting much warmer. Sweat trickled down my back and brow as we reached a significant part of the mine where a deity sat in a rocky alcove adorned with various colourful decorations and surrounded by coca leaves and small bottles of alcohol. Bolivians are religious people and believe wholeheartedly in the sanctity of Pachamama - Mother Earth, who brings life to all things. However she is not in control in these depths, which the miners consider to be Hell. This deity, in the deep belly of Cerro Rico represents the Devil, who the miners believe to control their fate down here.

The miners have regular ceremonies to pay their respects to the Devil by sprinkling coca leaves over him, lighting a cigarette in his mouth and offering potent booze at his feet. The figure is quite unsettling and sits silently on a rock with small beady brown eyes which pierce the darkness. These offerings are to help keep visitors and workers safe in the mines, but despite this many still die whilst working here. After spending some time with the Devil, experiencing his eerie glow as the ethereal glow of my headlamp glinted in his eyes we continued our decent into Hell and further towards areas that were actively being mined.

By this time we had made our way down three levels in the mine and the conditions were approaching a very uncomfortable level. The temperature was approaching 40 degrees which was stifling under all of the mining gear I had on. My lungs wheezed to gulp in a full amount of oxygen as the heavy air became very difficult to breath. My headlamp cut through the darkness which made the toxic particles hanging in the air visible. Prolonged exposure to these fumes is deadly with many miners experiencing reduced lung capacity (by as much as 50%) and contracting silicosis. When this happens they can stop work and collect a pension of a measly $50 a month. Dying young is sadly (even still) part of the profession.

We approached a narrow passage which I had to continually hunch to get through. We had to be especially careful here as mine carts weighing two tons would whoosh through the narrow passage and were unable to stop for anyone who dared to get in the way. The carts were laden with rocks and pushed by the miners by hand - no electronics or any means of technology were used here to mine. We followed the mine track, in between loads, as it continually rose above and below the smelly water underfoot.

We reached a safe corner where miners were working in shifts to remove large amounts of rock from where they were blasting and drilling. We spent some time with the miners here, some of whom worked topless in the incredible heat. Sweat glistened off their brows and their pupils stared back at us resembling large black saucers as they gratefully accepted our gifts. They each immediately ripped into the coca leaves and fizzy drinks we had bought, stuffing large amounts of the green leaves into their cheeks.

Quite interestingly coca leaves were originally outlawed by the Spanish Catholic Church and saw them as an obstacle to controlling the local indigenous people. They denounced coca chewing calling it an "agent of idolatry and sorcery". However when they discovered that when chewing coca leaves the miners were able to work longer and harder in the mines, thus extracting more silver they soon changed their stance. The Spanish king lobbied the Catholic Church to change their views and soon after the local populaces were being handed coca leaves 4 times a day.

A mine cart full of rocks tore around the corner and past us and it was time for us to make the dash to the sharp end of the mine. Thankfully the miners do not do any dynamiting when tourists are this close to the edge of the mine but they are drilling constantly and depositing dusty chunks of rocks into a mine cart, ready to be pulled to the surface. The conditions here are at their worst and the miners are working with no safety equipment or masks. Many of them are young guys too who work silently in the bleak conditions. The air here is almost impossible to breath and incredibly thick with poisonous particles, the heat is unbearable and sweat was pouring endlessly down my face, stinging my eyes.

We made our way back the way we came - enjoying the cool conditions as we ascended. On the way our guide was telling us of the lives of the miners and the money they make. Many of them work for something called Co-operative Mines that ensure they get a decent monthly wage and share of any of the spoils mined. For Bolivians they earn a decent monthly wage - the country's average is 600 Boliviano's a month, or around £60. Miners earn around twice this and even more if they have been working in the mines for many years. Many work here for 10 to 15 years for 10 hours a day for the equivalent of £120 a month which is crazy considering the atrocious and primitive conditions they have to operate in.

The light at the end of the tunnel finally appeared and I welcomed the fresh air into my lungs as well as the ability to stand up straight. My back ached and my eyes were feeling the effects of the rapid dilation of my pupils but it felt wonderful to be outside. I was in the mine for a mere 2 hours and I was choking up dusty particles from my throat and blowing black soot from my nose. I cannot image what 10 hours (let alone 4 months) must be like. It seems pathetic at home where we complain about the height of our office chairs, the lighting and a slight change in temperature in an office bringing about a torrent of complaints on working conditions when these guys have to scratch a living in such a place.

Before making our way back into town it was now time to blow up some dynamite. Our guide setup the stick - working the plastic explosive into a long roll and pushing the detonator into the green plastascene. I was slightly disappointed that the dynamite wasn't red but was looking forward to the big boom. The guide then placed the stick in a bag of ammonium nitrate and lit the fuse before running down to set the stick a safe distance. The fuse was long and took a couple of minutes to burn but disappointingly fizzled away without the bang we were expecting.

We managed to obtain another stick of dynamite though thankfully and the guide repeated the previous procedure before - crazily - running down to the unexploded previous stick and setting our other one next to it. A double boom was on the cards which hit us a couple of minutes later. The noise rang in my ears as the sonic boom thumped against the spectators quite satisfyingly. We made our way back into town after this and changed back into our normal clothes. The shower queue at the hostel was long as everyone wanted to rinse the grit of the mine off of their skin, hair and out of most of the facial oraphis.

The following day was my final one in Potosi and so I decided to enjoy the centre of town. The centre of Potosi retains a wealth of colonial architecture which includes churches, cathedrals, narrow cobbled lanes and a Mint that was established here by the Spanish in 1608. Potosi is the highest city on the planet and once enjoyed a population of 200,000 during the mines peak output. This made it one of the largest cities in the world at the time - easily comparable to the growing cities of Europe such as London. It was one of the most important places in the Spanish Empire and because of this has a wonderful ambience.

I spent some time just wandering the streets here, taking in the enormous Mint with its metre-thick walls and the wonderfully intricate stonework of the elaborate churches and cathedrals. The pastel coloured streets are cobbled and retain an element of old world charm but are busy with traffic throwing their choking fumes onto pedestrians attempting to navigate the narrow pavements.

The next morning I made the two and a bit hour journey to Sucre - which is Bolivia's constitutional capital. Sucre is another Spanish colonial city and enjoys UNSECO World Heritage status. There is no real big attraction in the city and it is best enjoyed by wandering around, taking in the impressive colonial architecture that is all painted a pristine white. The historic centre is laid out in a grid format and is a delightful place to amble round slowly, enjoying the cafes (seemingly mostly Dutch-owned) and restaurants. It was also nice to just slow things down a little here as so far Bolivia had been quite non-stop in terms of the activities I had undertaken.

I had a chance to enjoy the market here which was wonderfully colourful and varied. The lower floors consist of an enormous array of fruit and vegetables as well as various meats vendors. Some of the meat stalls were very interesting as it looked like a cow had just been hacked to pieces and was being sold off in chunks. This included the curling intestines, the face (including the snout!), the tail and spine. It was all rather squeamish stuff but interesting to watch the locals in their traditional colourful dress and fabulous top hats purchase their produce and haggle with the vendors.

Unfortunately, after this, the rest of my time in Sucre was spent in bed. I was cripplingly ill with awful stomach cramps which had me running to the toilet regularly for a whole day and night which was bloody awful. To top this off I had a night bus to catch to La Paz the following evening which was not going to be much fun. I narrowed the illness down to a fresh juice drink I had at the market which led me to endure a very uncomfortable 48 hours.

Thankfully the night bus to La Paz was amazing. I had paid extra for cama (basically a more comfortable, bed-like seat) and was thankful I did. The bus was new and the seat was wide and comfortable. On top of this they put on Air Force One as the evening film which was infinitely pleasing. Things were looking up. Many people had been warning me about the awful Bolivian buses before I had arrived here - a complaint I had so far seen to been totally and utterly unfounded. I enjoyed a relatively good night sleep on the bus as it made its way through the night to Bolivia's largest city set in a steep canyon - La Paz.

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Photos

Miners Gift
96% alcohol and coca leaves.

Streets of Potosi
Cerro Rico in the background.

Potosi
From Cerro Rico

Potosi Miners
Cheeks full of coca

Comments

[Mum, Dad and boys]

No way Hose!!
Well Michael I think you were very brave to go down those mines as I would not have done that as it did sound so claustrophobic. I would not have minded going so far but when your breathing became laboured due to toxins I would have probably had enough - maybe not if I was so interested to ignore this. I am up for any sort of run or mountain climbing but that is out in the open and those conditions sounded too cramped for my liking. I cannot believe that those men still work in those conditions for such a poor wage. Atrocious!! There does not seem to be any health and safety rules for tourists if you are able to buy and blow up dynamite - that is incredible. Not like the UK where we are all so PC to the point of spoiling days out for tourists etc. Liked the outfits - so yellow!! Dodgy drink from the market, eh? Always drink bottled that is what I keep telling you. Take Care and Enjoy. Love Mum xxxxxxxxxxxxxx