cerro rico

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The journey to Potosi was short and hairy. The bus was full of sweaty people eating smelly food and Josie was fretting from the word go about when she would get to stop for the loo. The unsealed gravel road wound for 4 hours round hairpin bends, on multicoloured mineral-rich hills, past llamas and a silver mine where Butch Cassidy had apparently held up a train. When we did stop for the loo, there was no loo and there was a mad scramble for the nearest bush, where Josie managed to impale herself on a cactus!

Once in Potosi, we decided we deserved a little comfort and set out to find the most luxurious hotel in town (not as easy as you might imagine). This meant hot water, a heater and fluffy towels (Potosi is 4060m above sea level and COLD!). NB anyone travelling to Bolivia do not expect anything other than dry bread and black coffee or coca tea for brekky even in the nicer hotels.

Potosi was once the biggest and one of the richest cities in the world, producing enough silver to underwrite the Spanish empire for more than two centuries. Millions of slaves died in the mines, and it is said that enough silver was extracted from the hill to build a bridge from Potosi to Spain. Also a similar bridge could be made with the bodies of those who died mining it. The mines of Cerro Rico are still in operation today but produce more zinc than silver, the miners still working in the same conditions, using the same techniques as they did in the days of Spanish rule. Apperently, due to heavy mining, the hill has shrunk by nearly 500 metres since Spanish colonial times.
Today Potosi is a very poor city, the miners earning on average $2 per day, with the tour operators probably making substantially more by offering tourists visits into the mines to watch the miners in action. We went with the first operator we found, Greengo Tours (the clue should have been in the name!), as we didn't know much about any ot them. I was interested, having been down lots of caves and lead mines etc in England. Josie, on the other hand was unsure and nervous. I tried to reassure her that we would probably be going to a lesser-used part of the mine that would probably be quite safe in comparison to the working areas (How wrong could I be!). The girl at Greengo Tours assured us (after making us sign away a disclaimer of any responsibilities of the operators) that we would be well looked after and that we would only have to go in as far as we were comfortable with. So, somewhat reassured, we set off in the minibus with our guide, David, to be kitted out with hard hats, lamps, wellies and caving suits. It was at this point that Josie once again beagan to feel uneasy. The guides were quite abrupt and rude. When Josie decided at this point not to enter the mine they were dismissive and said she would go in as far as the first level to see the TIo ( a kind of devil/god that the miners believe controls the underworld in the mines). The next stop was a dingy little shop where we were instructed to but gifts for the miners. We knew this was the norm but weren't exactly prepared for how this was done. First we were given sticks of dynamite, which David made a great show of sticking in people's mouths, trousers etc. There were four of us in our group, us and two French blokes. David was perhaps trying to give us an insight into the mentality of the miners, one would suppose that to survive in that kind of environment it's necessary to be macho and quite resilient. (Personally I just thought he was an asshole - Josie). He kept trying to provoke everybody, basically slagging off foreigners and being generally obnoxious. I managed to ignore this, but Josie was quietly seething. As well as the dynamite we bought ammonium nitrate, detonators and soft drinks for the miners (it gets hot in the mines). For less than £2 and with no questions asked, these places will sell a stick of dynamite, ammonium nitrate, fuse and detonator to anyone with the money to pay for it. The next stop was another shop, to buy coca leaves and a 96% alcohol spirit. The coca leaves, as well as relieving the symptoms of altitude sickness, help to suppress the miners' apettite, makes them able to cope with the fluctuating temperatures within the mines and keep them alert so they can work for longer. We were encouraged to try the coca leaves and were given lumps of quinoa to chew with them. This releases the active chemicals in the leaves. They just taste of leaves. Then we tried the booze. This tasted a lot like the rice wine I had in Laos, but much stronger. We were told they drink this mostly on Saturdays, when they sacrifice a llama and spread its blood around as an offering to the Tio, then burying the llama in the ground.
Our bags loaded with goodies we hopped back in the mini-bus and headed up towards the hill. Next stop was the refinery, where the miners sell the ore and where the minerals are purified. The mine dust is very toxic and often the lorries that carry this are uncovered, and the dust makes its way down to the city, causing severe problems for the people. Most of the city's water goes to these refineries and the toxic waste water is left untreated when it re-enters the waterways.
Our last stop was cerro rico (literally Rich Hill) and one of the mines. The hill, conical in shape and multi-coloured, looms over the city and gives a lasting impression. I went with David and the two French guys while Josie waited outside. Several groups entered the mine at the same time with different guides, with our group heading off in front. My first impression was that the hill didn't appear to be solid. It looked like a mountain of rubble, and on entering the mine things didn't look much better. Many of the wooden roof supports were buckled, some broken, and everywhere the mine appeared to be in a dangerous state of collapse. We past some miners bringing ore out on carts and gave them soft drinks. Their eyes were all blood-shot. First stop was a visit to El Tio, an effigy of a devil, made mud and straw and painted red. The beard symbolises the Spanish and it's huge penis is meant to represent the fertility of the mine. The miners believe that if the Tio is pleased he will release minerals from the rock. David told us that, the miners being a superstitious bunch, under no circumstances should we whistle whilst down the mine. They believe this makes the minerals go away (and we'd probably get a good kicking off the miners if we did!). He also told us that when people die down the mine the other miners are happy, as they believe that the Tio is feeding and will produce more minerals as a result. He even suggested that people make deals with the Tio and even offer human sacrifices. My theory on this is that the unexplained accidents may be down to miners hitting rich seams of minerals and then bumping off their partners to get a bigger share of the profits. Many of the miners die of silicosis anyway, and the average life-span of a miner is ten years from when they begin work. If a miner reaches the ripe old age of 65 they receive a government pension. However, we didn't hear of anyone achieving this!
We went to various parts of the very active working mine, watched miners drilling and setting dynamite chargers, retreating with the miners as the chargers went off. At one point we observed while 41 chargers were exploded nearby. The whole mountain shook as each charge detonated! Having been down lots of mines (some regarded as very unstable too) this situation was by far the most dangerous I have experienced so far. I felt lucky to exit the place with my life! This is definitely not your average tourist trip. The mining groups are all independent of each other, which makes it impossible to know what each other are doing at any one time, and adds an extra level of danger. We were in the mine for two and a half hours. The other groups had all returned by this time and had been bused back into town. Josie was mightly pissed off because she had been waiting outside all this time and was becoming very worried that we hadn't returned. The other guides were unconcerned when she asked why we hadn't come out yet, and told her she should go back with the others and wait at the office. She had also been harrassed by various drunlken miners, who seemed intent on picking a fight with some of the Spanish tourists visiting. When we exited the mine it was getting dark and the local stray dogs had emerged. I had to be nice and do lots of grovelling even though I couldn't have turned back earlyier without spoiling things for the rest of the group. On the way back David made a quip about how he would have kept me in there all night if it hadn't been for my girlfriend. Josie nearly slapped him! Interestingly, when we arrived back at the office the guest booked was not available to us, although we requested it.
I'm glad I saw the mines, as it was fascinating, but I certainly wouldn't do it again, or recommend it to anyone, as the danger level is unacceptable.
The town itself is quite impressive, with some grand buildings, although the town is very poor. Apperently the museums are worth a visit, but we didn't go in any because of the unusual opening times.
Another note about Potosi: They only seem to eat pizza or fried chicken. We had nice pizza though.
Next stop Sucre.

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