Potosí, Bolivia - Welcome to H-E-double hockey sticks

After spending one night in Uyuni, we took a 6 hour bus to Potosí. We rather stupidly went on the cheapest bus we could get (4 USD) and we paid for it. It was terrible. Uncomfortable seats, people standing everywhere in the aisles, bad smells, boy racer at the wheel along the clifftops. You get the picture. It didn´t help matters that there was a completely bonkers German lady on board who almost got in a fight with a French couple along with everybody else. Apparently, though, it was still better than some of the other options from the stories we heard. I won´t go into those, though!



Along the way, though, we did see some wonderful sights.



Upon arrival in Potosí we booked a very cheap hotel. It wasn´t all that bad, except the ceilings were about 6 foot 8 inches. The doorways significantly lower. Just check out me (6 foot 3) and our new friend David (6 foot 5) in the hallway. Fortunately we only stayed one night.



Potosí did provide a mystical sunset for us.



Potosí itself was actually a decent city, with some nice architecture. Some of the service people were a bit grumpy (like when they didn´t like it when we sent back their bloody raw chicken!), but we blamed that on the altitude, Potosí being the highest city in the world, at just over 4,000 meters.

Potosí was once the biggest city in the Americas and bigger than London, Paris or Madrid. Potosí was where Imperial Spain gained most of its wealth, despite French, Dutch and English pirates in the Caribbean trying to prevent it getting there. The city of Potosí sits at around 4,000 meters above sea level, below the all imposing Cerro Rico ("rich mountain" in Spanish). In the Spanish language, there is a saying "to be worth a Potosí" which means to be worth a fortune. Potosí has had a very long and sad history. Best guesses say that about 8 million indigenous and black slaves died during the colonial era making Spain wealthy. If they didn´t die in the terrible conditions in the mines due to poor air or cave-ins, they would die from the mercury used in separating the silver. The hill in Potosí might possibly be the world´s biggest graveyard (that´s just my guess). Even today, the locals still risk their lives mining deep underground. Many of them don´t live past 40. In a town of just over 100,000, about 15,000 men still continue to work in the mine (mostly mining tin rather than silver nowadays). A survey of the workers showed that over 90% do it just because there is no other option (how sad). Only about 4% do it because they like it (mainly 18-24 year olds who still think the risky element is cool). And another 4% do it based on family tradition. Very few of the workers can still strike it rich in the mines, but only a limited number. However you slice it, it´s a miserable experience.

Many tourists come to Potosí to go on tours into the mine. Believe me, 2 hours underground is more than enough to convince you that this is a miserable place to work.

Here´s Karen and me with our gear on:



Before heading to the mines, you stop at the mine stores to buy presents for the workers. Since all the work inside the mines is done by co-operatives, the workers have to buy all their own equipment. Here´s our tour guide demonstrating the benefits of buying Bolivian dynamite rather than inferior Argentinean or Peruvian. We bought some dynamite and drinks for the workers inside.



The Bolivians, especially those living at high altitudes and miners in particular, are absolutely addicted to chewing coca leaves. So we bought a bag of coca leaves for them as well. We tried the coca, but it didn´t do much for us. Hmmm, buying dynamite and coca leaves, please don´t tell the American authorities on us!!!



And here´s the mighty Cerro Rico itself. It´s actually quite beautiful, despite all the heartache it has caused over 5 centuries. I reckon that this one mountain has had more influence in world history than any other mountain.



Some of the co-operatives are richer than others. This one, for example, can afford electric trains to go around in the mines. Here they are heading in.





Here´s Karen and I about to head into the underworld for 2 hours.



This semi-well off co-operative is able to afford winches to hoist their loads. The poorer groups haul 40-50 kgs on their back up and out of the mine.



Karen heading into the lower realms.



A great picture of miners on their break. The guy lounging next to me was absolutely covered in coca leaf stems and his cigarette ash covered his trousers. This is one job where you don´t have to look good.



We had to slide down some shafts to go down lower.



Here are some workers from a poorer co-operative without an electric train having to pull carts with well over a ton of weight.





We felt bad for them, so our group decided to help them shovel their dirt and rocks into baskets that were then winched up.





Finally, light at the end of the tunnel!



Afterwards, we were rewarded by being able to blow up some extra dynamite that others had bought. A complete waste of a useful resource, but still somewhat fun (although very, very loud at close distance).