Potosi’s Deadly Silver Mine: The Mountain That Eats Men
Date of Entry: Monday November 16th 2015
Place of Writing: El Jardin Hostal, Asuncion, Paraguay
Potosi, the highest city on earth located at over 4000 M.A.S.L. is known for one thing, Cerro Rico (Rich hill) and the countless silver mines contained within the mountain which, for hundreds of years, funded almost the entire Spanish Colonial Empire, and throughout it’s history, has claimed thousands of miners lives.
From the imported African slaves to the homegrown South American slaves (and poorly paid workers) of hundreds of years ago, to the independent non government affiliated miner’s of today, the mountain has killed a good number of them all, from cave ins, collapses, and lost souls in the mazes of tunnels, to poisonous gases and powders that kill you slowly, the Mountain will finds a way to get those who rely on it to make their living.
The simple statistical fact that scared me more than anything is that the average lifespan of a minor today is between 35 and 40 years, which would make me more than halfway dead, a hard thing to imagine. Even today children often begin working in the mine before the age of ten and the miners, who set their own hours and buy there own safety equipment (which almost always leads to absurdly long hours and next to no safety equipment) are prone to countless lung diseases and other health problems. The mountain is a place of incredible wealth but also a place of incredible tragedy, and it has been this way for hundreds of years. For those interested I highly recommend they check out the film The Devil’s Miner.
A new development in the mine’s long history, has been tourism, with ex miners and others leading tours deep into the mine shafts and explaining some of the history and process of the mining as well as elements of their own lives. I struggled long and hard with the decision of whether to go into the mine, unsure if it is responsible and ethical tourism or not, and in the end I can’t even say I’m sure it was the right thing to do, but it seems like it is offering alternative jobs to miners, and some of the better companies like the ones I went with Big Deal Tours, donate a portion of their proceeds to organizations that provide food and supplies to miners, so at least it can’t be all bad, though at times it can feel like gawking at human misery. I use this blog to excuse that, hoping that my trip into the mines will spread knowledge to people who might otherwise not even know such things exist here in Bolivia.
Trust me when I say the issues in the mine are very real, the people amazing and welcoming but struggling especially as the price of silver drops and the contents of the mountain are slowly exhausted. I found this wonderful page from the maker’s of the film suggesting ways you can help, and I’d encourage anyone who can, to do so. It’s easy to blame the miners and say they are now choosing freely to go down into the hazardous tunnels, but trust me when I say there’s not much in the way of opportunities for people in this part of South America, and the mine, dangerous though it is, is a path to more many than most other choices, and will keep your children fed and happy, so I can understand why generation after generation the Bolivian people continue to mine their poisonous bounty found deep under Cerro Rico.
Okay, enough background, before we get into the mine tour though I’d like to give a few words to Potosi, a town I’ve had described to me as dull, and ugly by many tourists, and told the only reason to visit is for the mine. after arriving at the charming and welcoming Casa Blanca hostel, I realize that such a description couldn’t be further from the truth. Potosi is a beautiful little city, chilly but the people’s smiles are warm, and it’s filled with countless impressive churches, restaurants and plazas.
After a few days relaxing in town, wandering around despite the significant altitude, and eating expensive but very tasty dinners at La Taberna restaurant. I also find a piece of my childhood I first encountered back in Sucre with Sara, and that is Lotsa Fizz, a candy I haven’t seen much in Canada of late, but one that was always a favourite of mine. Still as the weekend and all it’s sports ends I decide it’s time to make a choice and after lots of research I book my tour of the mine’s for monday morning with big Deal Tours. The tour costs 150 Bolivianos (28 CAD) and lasts about 5 hours. You can get cheaper tours but I highly recommend this company that employs ex miners, helps current miners, and even includes a visit to one of the many refineries in Potosi, to see what is done with the minerals once the miner’s have pulled them from the mountains. I highly recommend them if you are considering going into the mine, which is not a comfortable, or exactly a pleasurable experience, but it is certainly a fascinating one.
I head to their office just a block from the main square and soon enough we’re off, a group of about 20 people heading to a retired local bus where we are driven to the miner’s market, near the edge of town, where we are shown some of the things on offer. If you take this tour you’re encouraged to buy some gifts for any miners you may encounter to help excuse the inconvenience of tourists in the shafts. What you buy and how much you spend is up to you, though it’s worth noting at least on drinks and coca leaves you’ll get cheaper prices elsewhere in town. I didn’t prepare ahead and purchase 55 Bolivianos (10 CAD) worth of stuff, some juices, coca leaves, fruit, and even my own little starter pack of dynamite, which while I’m tempted to keep, I don’t as lord knows it won’t clear customs. You can also buy alcohol and cigarettes but our guides recommend against this as smoke mixed with the dangerous fumes of the mine plays havoc with the lungs, and drunk miners are good news for no one, least of all the miners.
From the market we head to the companies headquarters near the edge of town to get kitted out, after all we’re not going to go into some of South America’s most dangerous mines without some equipment to help.
The lesson from the above photos? Luke should never get the lead role in a mining based male model campaign (although what would that possibly be selling?). All geared up we leave the headquarters behind and head to the first stop the loud and toxic refinery further towards the edge of town, where locals work long hours surrounded by cacaphonous and dangerous machines processing the minerals which the refineries buy from the individual miners. The price depends on both quality and quantity of the different minerals within the rock. Since the Spanish severely crippled the silver supply the miners now also work with tin, lead and other metals found in the mountain affectionally known as “the mountain that eats men.” Here we split into two groups, the spanish speakers and the english speakers, sizing up the two groups I join the english side as it’s a much smaller group, which in my experience is always better.
As we wander through the crazy machinery, masks firmly affixed to our faces our guide beckons for us to come outside while he explains how the refineries work and we admire the city below and the ominous mountain which looms over the city.
After our brief visit here we all climb back into the bus and start our ascent up the mountain, stopping about halfway there to pile out of the bus and enjoy the panoramic views of the city while we’re offered coca tea to hep cope with the altitude. I pass, luckily still feeling fine at 4300 M.A.S.L.
Soon enough we climb back into the bus and finish our ascent, walking up through a little ramshackle town to one of many entrances down into the mountain. I’m reminded of Lord of the Rings and if the door had of been closed, friend was ready on my lips. We head into the darkness of the mines, turning on our headlamp and me already stopping low, glad of the rubber boots as we stumble through about 6 inches of water for the first while as we wind our way down into the mines.
I learn one thing very quickly, Bolivian mine tunnels were not built for north american giants. Since many of the tunnels were built hundreds of years ago during colonial times, this probably shouldn’t surprise me, just hows small they sometimes get though does, and breathing through a gas mask while walking at a decent clip bent and folded in strange ways, in a tiny confined space is far from easy and I’m soon gasping for breath and fighting down a decent surge of panic. this isn’t helped when our guide calls for me and my friend from Hong Kong to hurry, and we’re forced to do our best job mimicking a run to where the tunnel widens as the first of our miners coming. We make it in plenty of time and there’s no real danger, but it takes my gasps for air up a level.
About a kilometre into the mountain we pause at a convergence of tunnels and a wide section of the path, where our guide explains how the cooperative mines of Cerro Rico work. Members of the collective have allotted patches in the mountains to mine and what they find is what they get. He tells us mining is like playing Russian roulette, you can win a lot of money, you can die, or you can find nothing and be homeless and penniless before long. Now how to join a cooperative and get your own patches of stone to mine is a long and difficult process, at the very least it takes three years to become a full member. Int he first year you find a member and work as his apprentice, he provides the tools and the stone and pays you a monthly salary of between 2500- 3000 Bolivianos a month (550 CAD) and he keeps whatever you find in the mountain. He can also assign you to do any work he chooses however undesirable. In the second year that ends and you are given your own sections with his tools but you keep only 15 percent of the yield, the third year the split is 50/50. At the end of this three year apprenticeship you can apply to enter the cooperative where you pay a one time entry fee (the number escapes me but I think about 3 months pay) at which point the cooperative considers you or admission and asks your mentor whether he thinks you belong. If you’ve worked hard you’ll be good to go, but if you’ve been lazy, disrespectful or anti social, get ready for another three years with another mining collective. When you are granted entrance your mentor assigns you some of his designated mining places and those become yours, whatever you find there is yours. Whether the rock is barren and worthless, or packed with silver, well that is a matter of pure luck, which is why the miners often call themselves high stakes gamblers. You can get rich (by Bolivian standards) in a single day, or make next to nothing for months on end. A dangerous game not just or your health, but your wallet too.
Eventually we pick ourselves up from our resting spots and continue deeper and deeper into the mountain where the tunnels only get smaller and more difficult to navigate. Eventually they stop being horizontal and switch to ancient looking wooden ladders cutting up higher into the mountain through incredibly narrow openings. Switching from one ladder to the other is a definite challenge, and a slip this deep in the mountain likely would mean your end. Scary to think that miners spend up to 100 hours a week in these dark mines and do it carrying and transporting huge weights of minerals, and large quantities of dynamite. Not a life for me, or, frankly, for almost anyone with a half decent other option.
Finally reaching the top of the 3 ladders out of breath, exhausted and full of wonder at just how the miners manage I crawl in to join the group at one of many devils built into the mine. Our guide explains that the miners are mostly christian and above ground certainly believe in different forms of god, but in the mountains there is only one god, and that is this devil. Offerings of cigarettes and palm alcohol (97 percent alcohol) abound and the Devil’s throbbing cock is an interesting addition to the sculpture. Here our guide take a chance to pay his respect to the idol and share a few sips of Palm alcohol with us, though I pass on account of my blood thinners.
As we head on I remark that were it not extremely disrespectful I would have enjoyed some immature photos with the little devil but my mirth is soon gone when our guide tells us that very soon we’ll be going through the smallest section of tunnels yet, and we’ve got 500 meters of what he calls a tight squeeze, which for me means so much more. Great. The blow is softened though by our arrival at some of the most impressive crystals and stalagmites I have ever seen before getting to the tiny sections of the passageways.
The last part of the tunnels are indeed tiny, and I find myself forced to crawl on all fours at times after smashing my blessedly helmeted head against the rock ceiling one too many times. It’s hard going and honestly a little hellish, which seems a fitting way to end my roughly 2 hours in the mines of Cerro Rico. How people spend their lives here I don’t know, and that doesn’t even take into account the slow poisoning of their lungs and all the more immediate dangers inherent to mining. Not to mention the added physical challenge of not just walking in the mine but working there, and believe me when I say it’s hard work. We meet another miner on our way out and he’s headed down in need of some dynamite, which we are happy to provide. He smiles his thanks and disappears into the dark tunnels, his single gas lit lamp serving not just as his way to fight the darkness, but also as a potential warning, when the flame goes out it mean’s there is not enough oxygen in the air, and it’s time to get out, as fast as you possibly can.
As the light appears in the distance ahead of us and the air begins to feel a little fresher, our guide asks for a picture with the giant bearded gringo and I am more than happy to oblige, smiling as some of the delightful brits in my group take the pictures for us.
A few more minutes and we’re out of the mine, greeted by a dirty looking kitten and the much needed taste of fresh air. There, triumphant to have survived for two hours where countless Bolivians spend almost all of there waking hours. Remind me never to complain about my life again okay? Still we pose for some fun pictures with our guides before eagerly leaving the mines behind for good.
The bus is nowhere to be seen at first, but that’s fine as the walk down to us provides us still more excellent views of the city below, and also lets us meet a few more miners with their families to distribute the last of our gifts.
I feel bad when we round the corner below and find two very young children taking the chance to gawk at some tourists. All I’ve got left is a single apple which I give to the eager boy, then I realize I have a bouncy ball in my pocket (because I’m just that awesome). The little girl is delighted to have it and the two ask to have their picture taken which I’m more than happy to do.
As we continue down the last of the road towards the waiting bus I snap a few more shots of the city, the sky, and the church up near the mountain. Something about South american altitude seems to lend the sky a more brilliant blue colour, and the clouds a closer feeling, like they might reach out and take you into the sky.
We head back into the city in time for a late lunch and i spend the rest of the day relaxing knowing that it’s an early wakeup the next morning for my 8 am bus to Tupiza, a little town often likened to the wild west of the U.S., another region of the world that I can’t wait to eventually explore.
One final thought on the Potosi mines, here poverty is a very real issue, child labour is going on everyday, miner’s are dying with considerable regularity, even now in 2015 twelve miners have died and more will undoubtedly later succumb to a variety of horrible long diseases sending them to an early grave. Cerro Rico is a hard place that gives gifts of incredible wealth but also kills. It is undoubtedly a place that has earned it’s nickname, the mountain that eats men.
