Next stop, Potosi, Bolivia.  Another tiny and impoverished town, high in the mountains of southern Bolivia.  One claim to fame, at 4070  meters, it is supposedly the world’s highest city.  But there is much more than that claim to bring us here.  Although one could never guess by looking up and down the streets, this city has an incredibly proud history.  But that proud history was accomplished at an awful price.

 

Potosi was founded in 1545 following the discovery of silver in the mountain overlooking the town, Cerro Rico (Rich Hill).  A mine was started.  And as the mine was developed, it was found that the veins of silver were incredibly rich.   Quickly this became the largest and most productive silver mine in the world!  And by the late 1700’s, the tiny, isolated village of Potosi had blossomed into the largest and richest city in all of Latin America.

 

The silver from this mine underwrote the economy of the entire Spanish Empire for more than 200 years.  It allowed for the fabulous extravagance of the Spanish monarchy.  But the price for this extravagance was paid in human suffering, human blood and human lives. 

 

The workers in the mine were all Indian conscripts and African slaves, forced to work in terribly inhumane conditions, in constant contact with toxic chemicals.  In the three centuries that the mine operated under the control of the Spanish government, it is estimated that eight million workers died!  And while the mine has played out, doesn’t produce a lot of silver anymore, mining still does go on.  And while the workers today join cooperatives and choose to work here, they work with the same antiquated techniques that have been in use here for over 450 years!

 

A tour of the mine begins in El Cavario market where we buy gifts of alcohol, tobacco, coca leaves and dynamite to give to the miners we will see in the mine.  All these items are considered essential to mine work here.  The alcohol is drunk, the tobacco smoked and the coca leaves chewed along with a small rock that reacts chemically with the leaves too intensify the effect of this leaf from which cocaine can be distilled.

 

A frightening combination that we will be walking into in this mine.  Drunk and drugged miners setting off dynamite charges!  Wow!

 

Our next stop after the gift shopping trip at the market is to see the Pallari women.  These women are widows whose husbands had been miners.  After their husband’s death, these widows are permitted to work the mine tailings.  In other words, they sit in the brutal sun for hours on end with small sledge hammers pounding on the rocks that don’t seem to have enough ore in them to be processed.  If they’re lucky they find a bit of ore.  And will have money to keep on eating by! 

 

Then, into the mine!  The first thing that strikes me is the age of the miners.  Boys as young as 12 years old are working here.  Starting a career that might span half a century before they die in an accident.  Or perhaps from the toxic chemicals that they continually deal with. 

 

What is it, I wonder that keeps people here, working in these conditions, generation after generation?  After you see your father die in the mine, why does one want to keep working in the same mine?  When you see 80 year old women swinging sledge hammers in the tailings, why do you want to continue working, knowing that may be your widow working the brutal tailings someday.  The answer to those questions is rather complex.  Family traditions are a strong part of the local culture.  And cultural traditions are incredibly powerful.  And for some, there is no other option.  Perhaps you started a family at an extremely young age.  And with birth control frowned upon by the Catholic Church you had a lot of kids.  Fast.  And now, at a very young age, you are responsible for a big family. You don’t have enough money for the family to leave town.  And there is no other work in town.  You’re trapped.  A feeling that is almost impossible to imagine in our incredibly mobile and relatively wealthy US society. 

 

As we enter the mine, we see that the alcohol, tobacco and coca leaves have done their job.  Most of the miners are in a state of numbness that allows them to work under the terrible conditions that we see all around us.  Drunk and drugged until they feel no pain, they pound long metal rods into the rock walls with sledge hammers, dropping charges of dynamite in to enlarge the tunnels along the veins of ore.  Or they manually crank heavy buckets of silver ore up from the depths of the mine hundreds of times a day.  Or they push carts filled with the heavy ore up the narrow tunnels, stooping to pass through.  Then return to do it again.  And the pay isn’t based on how many hours they work.  Its based on how much they produce.  So they work fast and hard!

 

And to keep themselves safe and to pray for good silver ore and good production, they have rites where they give offerings of tobacco, alcohol and coca leaves to Pacha Mama (Mother Earth) and El Tio (the Devil, or literally The Uncle).  They have a figure in a chamber deep in the mine, made of mud from the mine, in the shape of El Tio!  Once a week they gather to celebrate the safe passage of another week and to give their offerings, a supplication for another safe week.  And every once in a while, they’re offerings are not just of tobacco, alcohol and coca leaves.  No, twice a year they bring a llama in to be sacrificed to El Tio, who is considered the owner of the mine and all of its minerals! 

 

Luckily, we are assured that these sacrifices will serve to keep us safe during our visit to the mine too.  And maybe it did work.  I lived to write this tale!