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Published: November 6th 2009
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The chicken bus to Potosi only cost me £2.80. I felt somewhat over charged considering the the death trap on wheels which I was about to board would be lucky if it make it to the end of the street never mind Potosi. When I got on the bus, a lady was sat in the seat which I had booked. Now, under normal circumstances I would have let her sit there without a problem, but the amount of times I have been asked to vacate a seat whilst in South America because it has been booked then it felt quite good to ask her to make like a tree and ‘leaf’. I settled down and looked forward to completing the final item on my list for South America which was a visit to the silver mines in Potosi. A local man was sat next to me who started asking me about where I was from and what I did etc. This gave me a chance to show him my extensive Spanish vocabulary. In turn, he taught me a couple of Spanish swear words. A very cultural experience indeed. Just before the bus left however, a woman came up to my seat
and said she had reserved the seat. I thought she was talking to me at first, so I showed her my ticket, but she was talking to my ‘new’ amigo, who I didnt get the full gist of the conversation but I think said that he wasn’t going to move and told her to look elsewhere for another seat. I thought to myself that it is not every day you meet such a character and a gentleman. He was definitely one of the last of a dying breed of gentlemen. I hoped he was going to Potosi because I wanted to learn more swear words. He got off at the next town and had some woman with THE worse breath ever came and parked her trunk next to me. No word of a lie, it was as if she had been eating ‘shit’ sandwiches for breakfast.
The journey took 7 hours, and as luck would have it a couple of guys from Salt Flat tour who were in a different jeep took the bus as well so we all wandered off in search for a hostel for the night. Potosi is over 4,000 metres above sea level, every 20
seconds I needed to stop because I couldn’t breathe. We found a hostel, which also ran silver mine tours, so we signed up for the following morning.
The silver mine tour probably goes up there as one of strangest experiences I’ve had since coming to South America. The tour begins at the miners market where you start the morning buying gifts for the miners. I bought some coco leaves (which the miners chew to suppress hunger, to deal with the altitude and to stay awake), some pure alcohol, well 180% proof for the miners to drink, and some TNT. Probably not the best combination of items to buy, but the cost came to £2. The tour of the mine then starts. The equipment you are given consists of boots, overall and helmet with a light, which is a damn sight lot more than what these miners have. I chose not to wear a mask to protect against the fumes and zinc and silver dust, and after 3 hours down there I started to feel the effects. When a miner first enters the mine he/she can expect a wage of 30 Bolivs a week. This works out to about £2.80,
and once they have worked they way ‘up’ they will receive about $30 a week. On the tour you meet some of the miners, who are hard at work in some of the worse conditions I have seen. Bad light, poor air and the potential of landslides in the mine all pose a threat to the workers. The miners are used to tourists coming everyday on the tours and are always thankful for the gifts which they bring. Three hours in the mine was enough for me. Once we got back to the surface it was time to light the TNT. One of the guides showed us how to prepare it and once we had prepared a couple of sticks the 3 minute fuse was lit and the guide posed for pictures (as crazy as it sounds). Everyone found and safe vantage point and the waited. Boom..... Boom.... Both of the sticks when off, making a sound that sounded much heavier than the sound of a gun. I am sure the rock I was sat on shook (even with this dead weight perched on top of it).
When we arrived back at the hostel we heard that there was
a transport strike starting tomorrow in Potosi lasting for two days, so we quickly packed our bags and made our way to the bus station. The buses to Sucre were 20 Bolivs or a private taxi was 40 and took an hour less time. The private taxi got our vote and by early evening we were in Sucre looking forward to exploring a new city.
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