After a short 3-hour bus ride from Sucre, we arrived in Potosi, or the self-proclaimed highest city in the world. The elevation was fairly intense at 4200 meters, but also manageable since we have been at some pretty high elevations in Bolivia, and have been chewing the ubiquitous coca leaves. The city wasn’t as picturesque as Sucre, but it had a lot of unique characteristics from its mining economy and violent colonial history. The downtown was fairly simple, but most impressive was the Casa de Monedas which flanked the main plaza. The huge colonial fortress stood fairly imposing next to the smaller colorful government buildings next to it. Farther down the street was the typical labyrinth of market stalls, where most basic merchandise and food could be found. On our second night we were very excited to make our own food! We made our own vegetable soup from scratch (which definitely helped Ivan’s recovering tummy…).
We happened to be in Potosi during Dia de Los Muertos and Dia de los Santos. The city was fairly quiet on the Saints day, but became quite a party during Dia de los Muertos. We visited the cemetery in the morning and witnessed several ceremonies honoring the dead. Interestingly each gravesite (for those who could afford one…) was its own filing cabinet and altar which could be accessed by the family paying their respects. It was very fascinating to see that nearly every gravesite was bedecked with flowers and significant items. Most of the families (especially the men) were looped on the milky chicha that was being poured everywhere. Bands could be hired for a song or two which the family would sing along with for the dead family member. Afterwards we enjoyed some excellent coffee and a fun dice game that Mark and Laura taught us at a cozy café.
Main Plaza
View of Cerro Rico from town
On Thursday the 4th we did an amazing tour of the Cerro Rico mine. We decided to tour with a new company called The Real Deal, where all of the guides were ex-mineros. Our guide Pedro, not Pedo!, was incredibly knowledgeable and had a fantastic sense of humor. He reassured Ivan that his minor Closter-phobia would be manageable in the mine, which would only have a couple spaces where crawling was necessary. We toured with Mark, Laura, their two British friends Tom and Amy, as well as a nice girl from Salt Lake City (whose 5’2’’ height was a huge plus on the tour!!). After suiting up in our very hot rubber suits and boots, we hopped in a rickety van and made our way up to the miners market. Here we bought dynamite, ammonium nitrate to augment the dynamite, potent cane sugar alcohol, and gifts like soda and coca leaves for the miners. It was remarkable how casually and how cheap explosives were sold for! After buying several gifts (and explosives for ourselves!) we headed up to the silver refinery.
Dynamite for everyone!!!
Pedro, our exciting tour guide
The refinery was a very noisy place, where stinky volatile chemicals were mixed into churning mud. The chemicals were inexactly dripped, our poured, into the sludge that came out of a roaring rotary grinder and then beaten with rotating paddles. The overall result of this 3rd world cacophony was a very small amount of silver floating on the top of a collection tub. Our guide later told us that the miners seriously refer to their mountain as Cerro Pobre… After all of the effort of the miners and the refinery, very little silver seemed to be made. Kristin cringed as she watched the chemical sludge being poured into a drain with destination unknown. Also to the fact of not knowing if the 20 minutes allotted in the refinery would cause future health problems. Outside of the refinery we talked to some good-natured miners who were thankful for the coca leaves and the cute girls to shamelessly flirt with.
Panning for silver
Sharing coca leaves
After the refinery it was time for the actual mine. Our mine was called Mina Rosaria, which is one of the oldest mine shafts. It still had the rock reinforcement from the colonial era (nice because Ivan could stand up straight here!). Once our eyes adjusted, they followed the beam from our headlamps as we picked our way along the muddy floor. All were grateful for the bandanas guarding our heaving mouths from the extreme dust that was floating everywhere. As we made our way deeper into the mountain, the temperature slowly began to rise and the air seemed thicker. After walking through mine shafts that hobbits would have found discomfortingly low, we found the Tio, or Uncle of the mine. The Tio is a bit like the devil, but the indigenous workers say that God is for outside in the sunlight, and the Tio protects them inside the dark mine. Amazingly, since 1982 only 26 miners and 1 tourist have been claimed by the Tio. Here we gave an offering of coca leaves and sugar cane alcohol to the Tio to beseech safe mining, rich ore, happy travels and many girlfriends. After the thanks were made, Pedro insisted we try the alcohol (a mere 96% of ridiculous mouth-numbing potency…). Only a tiny sip was imbibed to appreciate just how much alcohol was needed for miners to alleviate the fact that their job was truly killing them (it was so potent that some of the nasty substance evaporated as we carefully sipped it). With mouths and esophagus’s on absolute fire, we continued on to the newer parts of the mine where miners were still slaving away. Here the mine was very warm, which wasn’t to comfortable in our rubber suits (between 35-40 C). However, before we could begin to lament our sweaty everything, a thundering mine cart rounded the corner with workers pushing the heavy ore at a jog. We quickly jumped against the wall as the cart thundered by with 3 workers leaning into it. Their mouths bulged with coca leaves and shouts in Quechua for us to get our gringo butts out of the way! The entire shaft shook when the cart came by, and its thundering could be heard before we even saw the miners headlamps. Further into the mine (about 1.3 km in!) we found men toiling with the ore. Here they furiously shoveled (at rates that would merit them employment at Ever-Bloom) the dusty ore into big cisterns that were hoisted up to the next level to be carried out of the mine. Ivan and Mark gave the miners a rest and took a turn shoveling the heavy dirt into the large container. Even with fresh arms and backs, they could barely keep up with the incredible pace and expectation of the crew. The dirt stung their eyes and throats, and the elevation and heat didn’t make matters easier. After just 5 minutes of work, both were more than willing to pass the undersized shovels back to the impatient workers.
At the mine entrance
Look! Sulfur!
Colonial mine shaft!
Tight crawl spaces....
El Tio, and his favorite drink...
The only thing that shook louder than the mine cart, was the unexpected dynamite explosion. The explosion roared through the mine tunnels and approached us with a wave of dust and gun-powdery smoke. We had to walk and duck through 50 yards of this acrid cloud. Our eyes, throats, and noses burnt as we could hardly pass through. Suddenly, the air cleared and we saw 3 miners sitting and relaxing as they enjoyed their coca leaf lunch. We learned the previous explosion was caused by them and according to Pedro even with the aid of dynamite it takes 6-8 hrs to clear out a cubic meter in the mine. WOW!
Mark and Ivan trying to be manly...
The miners work 8-10 hours per day and subsist only on coca leaves, water, and soda during their work day. Though there are hundreds of mine shafts, most are divided up between mining co-ops or private companies. The co-op miners work for themselves and are paid by the amount of ore and by its quality, meaning they work whatever hours they want, but are at the whims of market prices and the quality of the ore they toil to extract. In the private mines (much less common), workers are paid a small wage regardless of quality, required to work set hours, but are provided with minimal health coverage for such a dangerous job. Co-ops are more popular because miners have a small chance to strike it rich if they chance upon some silver-laden ore; however, given the mine’s new name Cerro Pobre, the chances of this are very slim.
After 2 hours in the mine, we were grateful to be outside breathing fresh air and warmed by the sun. With 2 sticks of dynamite remaining, Pedro had us roll the explosive puddy into a ball which he stuck the 3 foot fuse into. However, just plain dynamite isn’t powerful enough, so he placed that ball into a bag of ammonium nitrate. The fuse lasts for 3-4 minutes before it explodes. Nonchalantly walking down the hill with 2 hissing bombs, Pedro then began a serious of push-ups over the sputtering dynamite. One minute later the impressive bombs exploded throwing dust and debris all around. Impressed we hopped back on the van and headed back into town ready for a cold soda or beer for our parched throats. Definitely an unforgettable experience!! (wish we could upload the video of the explosions!!!)
Bolivian play-dough
Fire in the hole!!
The following day we toured the Casa de Monedas to see where the imperialist Spaniards made their silver currency. The process was incredibly involved, and almost as difficult as extracting the ore from the mountainside. The giant oak gears (brought from Spain) were turned by 4 mules on the floor underneath. The gears turned different sized rollers, which the silver bars were fed through. Once a specified thickness the coins were cut out and then pressed into their appropriate currency. Each individual coin was said to take 1-3 hours of work. The Casa could hammer out 2,000 coins per day, which were loaded onto armed galleys and shipped to Spain. After the Spaniards left, the Casa de Monedas was used until the 1980’s to print coins of dictators, and ‘democratic’ politicians alike. It was interesting to learn that all the lower Boliviano coins like the 10cent to 2b’s were made in Chile, and the 5b’s coin is made in Canada (it looks exactly like a loonie!).
Recognize this lathe, Hunter??
After 4 nights in Potosi, we took the evening bus with our 4 British mates to Uyuni for a 4 day tour of the salt flats and beyond….
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