Ok, so today Jessie and I woke up and got a quick breakfast before our mine tour at 8:15 AM. We had heard that the tour was fantastic and we both were anxious to see what the mines were like. We began the tour by taking a small bus to a place where we could change into our "miner" gear, which consisted of a thin jacket and pants to cover our street clothes and a hard hat with a headlamp. We stored our extra stuff and then took the bus to the miner´s market on calle Hernandez and bought soft drinks and dynamite (yes, you can buy sticks of dynamite on the street in Potosi) to give as gifts to the miners. Our guide was excellent and he took the time to tell us all about the different kinds of dynamite (Bolivian dynamite is the best, of course) and about how every Friday around 5 PM the miners stop working and start drinking 192 proof alcohol (We all tried a *tiny* sip and it felt like our cheeks were going to melt off!). They go to a special place within the mine and give offerings of alcohol, coca leaves, cigarettes, and other things, to El Tio (Uncle). El Tio is synonymous for the devil to the miners and their homage to his effigy is important in keeping them safe within the mines. This ritual every Friday is tradition and very important to the miners.
We also bought some coca leaves to give to the workers at the mineral refinement plant that we visited before the mines. We got to the see all the equipment used in crushing and washing the rocks in order to extract and separate the minerals (primarily silver and zinc). According to our guide, there are over 30 companies working in the area that are responsible for shipping the minerals. The miners work for themselves and sell the minerals, in tons, that they extract to the companies individually. The mountain, called Cerro Rico in Spanish and Sumaj Orcko in Quechua, is owned by the government and not private companies and the miners must deal with the government if they want to mine the mountain. Only 10-20% of the minerals extracted from the mountain stay in Bolivia. Our guide informed us that most are shipped to Asian markets where they are used in electronics which are then, of course, sold back to Bolivians at high prices. They must ship their minerals over seas because noone is willing to invest in smelting technology in Bolivia since it is so expensive.
The mountain has had miners in it for over 500 years. The Spanish used to exploit African and indigenous slaves to work inside the mountain with only candle light. They instituted an obligatory labor service called "mita" which required the workers to work half day shifts for 6 months INSIDE the mountain without leaving. Those who were still alive after their mita service expired were then required to work down in the refinement plants where they sorted and seperated the minerals manually in a solution of mercury. Today the sorting is done with machines and 5 specific solutions (can´t exactly remember at the moment), but when we visited the refinement plant you could smell them thick in the air... probably not the healthiest environment to work in. The black slaves didn´t fare too well because of the altitude and cold temperatures; many of them died. Today most of their descendents live in the lower altitude regions of Bolivia as farmers, an environment more agreeable to their biological makeup. Supposedly over 8 million slaves, indigenous and african, died trying to extract wealth for the Spanish.
We packed up our gifts for the miners (coca leaves, soft drinks, and dynamite) and headed into the mine. Some pictures can be found in Album 6 and 7 pretty soon (some of the computers don´t have the plugins necessary to upload pictures to facebook). The quarters were tight and we were grateful for our hard hats because every other step we bonked our heads on the low, rock ceiling. The dust was thick and we held our handkerchiefs tightly over our mouths as we walked clumsily in our over-sized rubber boots. It was all fun and games until after we visited the miners musuem, which had various statues and pieces of information regarding mining life (17.5% of the miners die of respiratory infections). Our guide took us first up a level to see two men chipping away at rocks that fell into the carts below. The men wore no masks and we were told they would work atleast 10 hours today (and since the miners work for themselves, some of them work inside the mine for 24 hours!). He then took us down to the second level. I cannot stress how CRAZY this was and how clausterphobic I got. We had to seriously crawl on hands and knees through *small* tunnels. I felt bad for the 6´6" guy in our group. It was hot and hard to breathe with the handkercheifs over our mouths (eventually, at the expense of my lungs, I abandonded the handkerchief in order to breathe a bit easier). All you could see were the person´s feet in front of you illuminated by your headlamp. Once girl got too freaked out and decided to turn back... I don´t blame her. It was scary crawling through an extremely tiny tunnel and then realizing there is a hole right next to you that drops 20 feet to another level. It also didn`t ease the nerves when the guide tells you not to touch the ceiling because of the arsenic! I had fleeting moments where I thought it might be better to head back to the surface than to stick it out down in the mines, especially when I remembered reading this article.
On the second level we visited a lone miner who was working on manually creating a hole with chisel and hammer. After he reached the depth of the entire chisel he would then pack the hole with ammonium nitrate and a stick of dynamite. Every miner has fantasies of making it rich in the mines... indeed, they make a significant amount more than people who work down in the city. According to our guide, a miner a while back hit one of the principal deposits in the mountain and instantly became rich. They call him the "f**king lucky miner." After watching this lone miner chisel tediously away at the same hole, we gave him our gifts of dynamite and headed for the third level.
To get to the third level we had to wedge ourselves sideways with our feet between two pieces of wood on a wooden shaft then adjust the pressure on our feet to slide down. No ladders, elevators, or stairs. On the third level we got to do some shoveling alongside the miners before we headed back up to the surface. Heading back to the surface was more frightening than going down! It was much harder to breathe, probably because it was more strenuous trying to negotiate the small space and climb the slippery gravel 3 levels. We made it though, thank God, and afterwards blew up some dynamite on a hill nearby.
I could not believe the conditions in the mines... they were absolutely appalling. Children as young as 8 years old work as "gophers" (runners) in the mines, running between levels. The avg life expectancy is 50 years for someone who works in the mines. From being in there for 2 hours I feel like I´ve shortened my life a couple years... the minerals and dust *burn* the hell out of your throat and even now I have a fairly sharp headache. Maybe I´m just complaining, but I could not fathom working in the mines. Jessie said it best, "I would beg on the street before I went to work in there." It was an amazing experience, probably one of the most memorable of my entire life. It made me either want to stop buying electronics altogether or atleast pay more for them so someone can improve the conditions the miners work in. There was a certain sense of irony in taking pictures of the miners with a camera that was quite possibly made with Bolivian minerals.
For a while afterwards Jessie and I had some silent moments of reflection. I know I thought about the jobs I have had and my comfortable lifestyle. It made me regret ever complaining about anything in my life. Our guide asked us if we loved our jobs now, to everyone replying "Yes!" When he asked me if I wanted to work in the mine, I humbly and assuredly told him, "No, thank you."
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