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Published: April 4th 2008
Evening all,
Hopefully this latest entry goes off with a bang, as it was Potosi next, world reknown for being both the highest city in the world, sitting not so pretty at 4080 metres, and the dynamite captial of the world, one of few places where the buying, selling, and exploding of such stuff is perfectly legal.
The journey was once again memorable, the distance from Uyuni to Potosi is roughly similar to that between Birmingham and Sheffield, however I don´t think even the worst M1 jam would lead to an 8 hour marathon, this a result of the steep climb, winding roads, and ineptitude of drivers in large vehicles, recklessly turning corners and ending up stuck teetering perilously over the edge.
In our taxi from the bus terminal we heard that Real Potosi, the team with the highest football pitch in the world, we think, were playing against Argentine side San Lorenzo in the Copa Libertadores. Not ones to miss out on a match we decided to head straight to the ground, the people at the hostel who ordered us the taxi were a little confused, obviously thinking us to be football stadium enthusiasts, as it turned
out they were playing away, in Argentina. To save our blushes we watched the game in a local bar, reputation still in tact. The miners we spoke to were to tell us that "ladyboy" teams such as those in Argentina and Brazil would not come and play them at their ground due to the altitude, however "masculine" teams, such as Liverpool apparently, would have no problem. I personally am in no position to argue with those evading the ground, walking uphill was a struggle.
The history of the city is the most interesting feature of Potosi, as it was once the richest city in Latin America due to its Silver Mine, or Cerro Rico (Rich Mountain). This history however is marred by the conditions and sufferings of the miners, 8 million slaves died during its peak and even today the life expectancy of the miners is around 40, diseases such as silicosis setting in due to the fumes and chemicals in the mine, which we were to experience first hand.
On our first full day we awoke and got chatting to an Israeli fellow who had been down to the mines the previous day, and told us that
the miners had a football match planned to celebrate something or other, apparently there would be beer flowing and much happiness as football is a welcome relief for the miners. What ensued was highly comical. Obviously I am in no position to judge, but the Bolivian chaps aren´t the tallest in the world, and I don´t think the first team we watched played to their strengths as their keeper could not have been taller than five foot (see picture). Though he tried his heart out there were plenty of long range efforts made to look spectacular. Also funny was the level of seriousness that the referee decided to impinge on the game, 3 sending offs (one of which for celebrating a goal) and plenty of dramatic decisions. After our small taster of the miners market we went back to the hostel and booked our tour of the mine for the morning.
Despite the accounts and warnings, not much can prepare you for the experience of going into the mine. Though 95% of the Potosi´s tourists enter the mine, there is a distinct lack of professionalism/health and safety concern that would rule it out of being possible anywhere in Europe.
In the Mine
Plenty of ducking and divingWe got a bus firstly to a dressing room where we donned our protective overalls, hard hats featuring headlamps, and wellies, as we were told the water levels would be fairly high. We then went to the miners market. It is customary to buy the miners some gifts as we are essentially getting in the way of their work, so we loaded up on 96% alcohol, their tipple of choice, dynamite, Coca Leaves (a leaf legal in South America used in the production of cocaine which they lap up), and some fizzy drinks, probably the least extravagant gift of the bunch.
Entering the mine was a bit of a shock. Unlike most rational people, me and Sam decided against buying masks to prevent inhaling the Sulphur, dust and other killers, so the lack of breath wasn´t the best of feelings. It was also physically a bit of a struggle, there was plenty of crawling, sliding, wading, ducking, forgetting to duck, and virtually diving as the miners would come sprinting through certain areas with trollies full of minerals which looked very heavy and extremely hard work. The miners work for at least 8 hours a day, 6 days a
week in these conditions and all of them looked physically drained. Pedro, our guide, was very useful and full of interesting facts, he also pointed out in the mine the Devil Statute (named Uncle Tio) which they worship by spitting alcohol at, throwing leaves to and drinking with on the Friday, in the hope he will give them luck in their mineral hunt. As the silver ran out a couple of centuries ago, the mine is now used to find minerals such as Tin, Copper, Aluminium and so on. The problem with life expectancy in the mine causes a vicious cycle for local families as when the father dies the son goes off to mine from a young age, there is a film called The Devil´s Miner apparently explaining this if anyone gets a chance.
At one point, we were offered the chance to help out with the miners, as we were a "very strong group", false encouragement I suspect. I can therefore testify that it is ridiculously tough, as one short shift wheeling the wheelbarrow full of rocks left me with no breath and on the verge of fainting. Apparently we got about 80 metres deep and 800
Enthusiastic Guide
Pointing out the supposed Dino Footprints into the mine. There were times of brief worry when I thought it was going to fall on top of us, apparently not that irrational as accidents are unfortunately fairly frequent.
After seeing the mine, and being suitably shocked, we were told that it was time to blow up some dynamite, no rest for the wicked. I was casually passed some dynamite and told to make a ball to help with the explosion. Fairly stunned I was very swift indeed, and they placed it in a bag with some ammonium nitrate and lit the fuse. They then passed it to us to play with for 45 seconds. Cue frantic poses for the camera, faces are of genuine fear. The guides then took the bombas of us and sprinted in a frenzy for 200 metres, buried the dynamite and then ran back to us, joking that they had forgot one, time and a place squire. Sure enough seconds later there were large explosions. Certainly a unique experience, and one topped off with some more Llama meat when we returned famished to the city centre.
The day after we were destined for Sucre, however happened to recall that there was
the small matter of Villa away at Old Trafford. No more needs to be said about this grim affair, other than it turned us to drink, and we hit the town mingling with some Bolivians. It is fair to say that their dancing is fairly conservative, with rows of men and women opposite eachother swaying their hips. Needless to say we attracted a fair amount of attention, firstly for being white, and secondly for displaying some moves the likes of which have never been seen in this country. Hopefully we never crossed the boundaries of taste.
The day after, Sam worse for wear, we headed to Sucre, a shortish journey to the Judicial Capital of the Country, and a nice looking city, full of 18th and 19th Century whitewashed buildings. It is also protected by UNESCO, bonus. There was very much a laid back vibe to the city, it is apparently a bit of student city and has a paris-esque bibliocafe culture which we indulged in slightly, very civilised affair.
We weren´t to be fooled by this laid back-ness for too long however, as on night two there was a large protest. Sam said it was a rabble
T Rex!
Kind of protesting against me shaving my beard, however closer inspection gave away that it was something to do with the Public Transport System. The Foreign Office claims Bolivia is politically unstable and to avoid the protests, this was very hard, however we had a pizza on our table at the time so we managed.
Our only notable achievement in Sucre was to climb aboard the Dino-Truck to be taken to the sight of some Dinosaur Footprints, a paleontologists dream. All together now, oooooo. The affair was very Jurassic Park, the park itself full of lifesize models of dinosaurs, though the footprints themselves were far away and looked a bit lame, though we were told they were impressive by our enthusiatic guide. I was also a little disappointed not to see some of my childhood favourites, the Stegasaurus, Brachiosaurus, Brontosaurus, and so on, I thoroughly hope these were not made up and I managed to in fact waste years of my youth building dinosaurus from those promotional magazines for nothing.
That though, was Sucre, plenty of lounging and a far cry from the action packed, deadly Potosi.
From Sucre we endured another harrowing bus journey to Santa Cruz, in
the East of Bolivia towards the border with Brazil. This time it was the brakes that proved to be the problem, each time the driver tentatively applied them there was a piercing whistling sound, and I couldn´t help but picture John Anderson crying "contender, you will go on my first whistle", not sure why, maybe the noise pollution sent me loco. Also quite annoying was the constant flock of Bolivian women who boarded the bus, 6 at a time, crying "sandwiches, hamburgesas, etc etc". Cannot blame them for not being entrepreneurial though, not for the first time a man boarded towards the end of the journey with a briefcase and gave us plenty of chitter chatter before selling some rubbish that everyone on the bus seemed to buy into aside from us.
Currently in Santa Cruz, sure enough we have just had a taster of the Irish Pub, which unlike many of its counterparts does sell Guinness. As I leave you I hear fireworks and horns beeping outside, can´t beat a good protest.
Adios,
AMJPC
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John & Nan
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Great Blog & Happy Birthday on Thursday
We continue to enjoy great blog entries. The Cocoa Leaf is supposed to be good for altitude sickness ..... Enjoy your birthday.