4th May - Hey Ho Hey Ho, It's Down the Mine we Go

The 4th May was a Saturday. We had wanted to do a tour of one of the mines in the afternoon as then we could look in to some of the churches in the morning (they are all shut Saturday afternoon), but we were told that there was a football match on in the afternoon and no one would be working down there.
Mining is so central to Potosi that mine tours are on the tourist agenda. I felt first of all that it was exploitative as the conditions in Cerro Rico are renowned but I felt more comfortable with it as time went on.
Cerro Rico has been tunnelled for silver since the 16th century and the way things are done has not altered much since then. It is such a dangerous operation that every mine (and there are 5,000 entrances on the mountain, not all in use) has its resident Tio, or statue of the devil who has to be appeased for the miner to be kept safe. Above ground, the miners are Roman Catholic, below ground darker forces come in to play. Most miners can only expect to work for 20 years before silicosis sets in. There has been an excellent film made on Cerro Rico, which you can get on DVD - The Devil's Miner.
Many of the houses in central Potosi are elegantly colonial, but as we travelled up the hill the environment changed.

We first called in to the miner's market as it is customary to buy presents for the miners - sticks of dynamite, coca leaves and bottles of pop. We bought a couple of sticks each and our guide got us to drink a little of the 96% proof spirit the miners use to keep going, especially Friday afternoons when they will drink this stuff for several hours and go home comatose. On working days the miners gather outside the mine around 7.00 in the morning after they have breakfasted. They will spend an hour outside chewing coca leaves, they take a little time to have an affect, and then go in to work. Nothing is automated. Every rock has to be dynamited or hewn out of the mine and carted away by hand to the trucks. Here the miners will not eat at all, in fact they are surrounded by so much arsenic and other poisons it would probably kill them to do so, but they are sustained with neat alcohol and more coca. In the evening they will eat with their families. Really safe working practices!

We then went to a shed where we were issued with our safety clothing, overalls, boots and a hard hat with a light, and given instructions. Our guide was called Juan and he was a bit of a card. While we were putting our stuff on he suddenly appeared in his bathing attire with a lot of paper stuffed down the front (well I assumed so)!! Juan explained that his nickname down the mine (for every miner has one) was Ocho. At least, he might have said Ocho, but I think it was something else which is South American slang for something which is definitely not eight.

Juan

Mairi and Naomi in their mining gear

Clutching our dynamite, us eight intrepid miners got the mini van up the hill towards the mine entrance. We stopped first to see some of the refining works. There are several just at the base of the mountain. They are run by different companies who buy the ore directly from the miners. The miners work in independent gangs of about six to twelve people. It is now illegal for anyone under 18 to work in a mine but I am not sure how far this is regulated. A lad will start out as a helper and then as he gains more experience will rise higher in the pecking order until he becomes a master. There are no maps of the mines, all the gangs work independently, so the danger of collapse is very real. If one gang comes across another one working their seam fights will break out, so there is no harmony under the surface. The best seams have all been worked out and the ones left run horizontally into the mountain like the branches of a tree so they take a lot of effort to exploit. It would be best to use open cast mining to extract the ore but that would take a lot of cooperation. It is not just silver, but zinc, tin, cadmium and other metals that are produced. At the moment the price of metals is very high so miners may not work every day. Juan said that they did not work when they did not have to, but would drink the best time away.  

The ore is crushed in the works and taken through several processes using nice chemicals like mercury.

A jumble of belts and machinery

In the final process (and we were looking at silver) air is pumped through the particle and water mixture. The silver sticks in the bubbles and is skimmed off the top of the mixture using paddles.

We were given a little streak of the bubbles on our hands which dried off to show a scraping of silver like children's glitter.

Incredible amounts of water are used in the process, which comes from reservoirs on the hills. I asked about water treatment and was told there was none. The waste goes directly into the river system. I found an interesting article on this which states that the water in the rivers is usually around pH2 -3 and has very high concentrations of lead, iron and cadmium. http://www.slate.com/articles/news_and_politics/dispatches/2006/09/the_mountain_that_eats_men.html.

Bolivia is a very poor country, and has not got round to doing much environmentally yet!

Next we were taken higher up the mountain where things started to look more grim. Be warned - we had signed a disclaimer and there are health warnings on going into the mines.

Naomi and Mairi with her dynamite

Then we were at the mine entrance - the Candelaria, or candle mine. I had thought I might bail out at this point, but there was nothing else to do so I pressed on. 

The Candelaria Mine

We started out underground. The first thing that hit me was the smell and taste of sulphuric acid, which rasped at my throat. Mairi and I had buffs on so we put these over out mouths and Naomi used her scarf. There were white encrustations on the walls which we were told were asbestos and arsenic so we tried not to touch them, although this proved impossible. We tried to roll our sleeves down to cover our hands.
We came to rest in a more open area. Naomi felt sick and was thinking of going up again (one guy had already left). The only light was from our head torches.

We should have bought the face masks

Juan chose this moment to tell us his life history. He had entered the mine when he was younger to work with his father. After a couple of years he had an accident and injured his back, not seriously, but his wife insisted that he should not go back down again, as they by now had two children. So he joined a tour company and started guiding down the mine. He had learnt enough English to give a talk, but he said he always walked far in front of the group to avoid questions as he did not have the language skills to reply. In order to better himself he went back to college to learn English, went to university and ended up as a teacher. He now worked in Uyuni in the week and came home to his wife and children in Potosi at the weekend. He did one mine tour on a Saturday morning to bring in some extra cash. His father had died a few years previously.
That was the easy bit. The tunnel had followed the truck track and we had had to squeeze and duck our heads a few times, but it was cool and not too cramped. We were to go down to the fourth level. As we descended it got hotter. The air became completely fume filled and the rock walls were entirely covered with white and yellow deposits. We were now crouching and ducking most of the time and scrambling to descend down tight entrances. We had not brought any water with us which we could have used to wash the taste of acid out of our mouths. It was complete hell. There was rubber piping lying along the floor which presumably might once have brought air down but it was frayed and punctured. On the third level we went through an area that was more open and were passed by a few miners working. We gave them the dynamite and the soda. We saw one man with a limp and a walking stick. I cannot imagine how he coped.

On the fourth level Juan said he would give us a test. We were given instructions on how to find our way through a series of tight tunnels and we would meet him the other end! I prevaricated on doing it and finally gave him my camera to look after (I had not taken the DSLR with me but a smaller one). This meant that we were lagging behind the rest of the group.  In the dark and on our own Mairi and I were really frightened. We called to the rest but they could not hear us. We climbed, hand over hand up a steep slope and then had to crawl on our bellies down a tunnel, and then clamber up again. At times we were going through gaps that were only just big enough to take us. We were both nearly in tears. We caught up with the rest of the group just as they were starting off again. The fumes had got into my eyes which were streaming so much I could hardly see. Looking around the interior of churches seemed suddenly very appealing.
Finally we popped out at the first level and saw Juan waiting for us. We were going to see the Tio and the other guide who was with us was going to do a bit of blasting with a stick of dynamite. Every mine has its Tio who has to be given cigarettes and alcohol to make him happy. The Tio had a very large appendage which signifies fertility. He was a pretty disgusting sight. I think the other statue is the Pachamama or earth goddess.

I decided I did not want to be around when the dynamite went off as I valued my ears too much. The other guide lit the blue touch paper and started to walk down a tunnel to the rear of the Tio. I left and went back to the surface with Juan.

Mairi said that the explosion had not in fact been very loud, but that there had been a huge shock wave. I wished I had stayed.
Out at last we drew breath and whipped our masks off. My tee shirt was stained yellow with sulphur. Juan said that in order to become a master miner you have to pay a joining fee. You are then entitled to private hospital treatment. Before that you have to pay for treatment yourself or rely on one of the charitable organisations in Potosi.
Mining is a family tradition in Potosi, like it once was in South Wales or Yorkshire, but the miners all work for themselves and could, maybe, choose to do something else. They must think the reward is worth it. Coming from the UK  gives me a different perspective.

Pleased to be in the fresh air - and for it to be over with

Just by the mine there was a cave with a dog and some puppies in it, which Juan fed.  It was comforting to think of new life next to this hell hole

After this unforgettable experience we went back to the hostel and showered.
There was not much to do in the afternoon, but we saw in the guidebook that you could go to a place where the water from the reservoirs came into the city. There was a waterwheel, a cafe and a little museum.  We got there and it was a rather scruffy place. The museum and cafe were shut (probably due to the football match but we could see the water wheel (no water) and also walk out along an old water conduit (also no water). We did get a fabulous view of the mountain we had just been in from here.

We called in at the market and bought some food, went back to the hostel, ate it and went to bed thankful for our safe little lives.