Potosi - Home to the world´s largest silver mine

When I arrived in Potosi, I headed to the center of town - up hill for the first time in all of Bolivia. Usually the center of town is at the bottom of the hill or in a valley. My first stop was the Casa de la Moneda (House of Money) where the silver from Cerro Rico (the mine) was manufactured into coins. It was a huge building, lots of old coins.

Cerro Rico was discovered to llorar lagrinmas de plata (cry tears silver) by an indigenous man (Inca, I believe)...and the story goes: Señor Inca was a sheep herder and had lost a sheep. He had to go up on to the hill to look for it, but he wasnt able to find it before nightfall. So he had to spend the night on the hill. He made a fire and was spooked by the shiny rocks. He ran down the hill and tell his friend who lives close to the bottom of the hill. They go see it together and realize that is plata (silver). For them plata does not have a monetary value, it is only used for decoration. When the Spanish white man came the friend of Señor Inca tells the Spanish that the Cerro cries plata as a peace offering. In about 1530 the spanish start to mine for silver. (By they I do not mean, the actual spanish men were doing the work!) They became the owners of themine and enslaved thoursands of indigenous and brought african slaves to work in the mine. The african slaves died within a day of working within the mine and were used then to work outside of the mine to process the minerals and manufacture the coins.

They say that you could build a bridge of silver from Potosi, Bolivia to Spain with the amount of silver that has been extracted. Btu they also say that you build a bridge from Potosi to Spain of bones because of the number of people who have been killed in the mine and with the processing of the silver. Terrible.

The mine continues to be mined to day. Now (during a slow period-when there isnt high demand for silver on the market andlarge pockets of the mineral arent being found) about 1,000-1,500 men are working in the mine everyday. In high times, there can be up to 5-6,000 men working in the mine. There are 3 shifts that are worked in the mine: 7am-1pm, 1pm-7pm and 7pm-11pm. (Sometimes, howeverthe men stay and sleep in the mine). Men (boys) start working the mine at age 12 or so. And then are only able to work until age 35 because their lungs are shot.

I heard varying details on how much the workers are paid, all depending on how much they extrat at any given time. It can be anywhere from 70Bolivians (1dollar) an hour to 70Bolivians (1dollar) a day.

Men and only men work in the mine, because the Cerro (hill/mine) is a woman and she gets jealous if other women are working in her. The men work for cooperatives, each cooperative cworks certain mine shafts (the mine has over 400 different shafts/tunnels). Most cooperatives provide no health care or respadtory mask.

Hard work, we are lucky that there are other typesof work in the world. And it makes me think twice about silver jewlrey.
The adventure of getting a mine tour was a story within its self. There are tons of tour companies offering certified safe tours. I found one offering a tour that afternoon which would work perfectly with my bus schedule. I was alone so the guiding company offered me a female guide so that I would feel comfortable. When I got to the office for the time of pick-up, the office was closed and locked with the worlds biggest padlock. Uh.o. So I waited a bit and the organizer showed up eventually but the guide hadnt comeout of the mine yet from her morning tour. It was now already 2:30pm...NOT a good sign. So it looked for a bit that there would be no mine tour. Bummer. But then I wouldnt have to force myself to do the scariest thing of my trip so far.

Deep breath, I thought I was free. I had given it a good go and could say I tried and goutten out easy.
Wrong.

They founda guide from another agency who could do it. A little more waiting and she arrived. Ceila Santos, la unica - (Celia, the one and only) she presented herself. I liked her from that first moment. A tiny woman, at least a head shorter than me, with a seriousness about guiding that put me at ease. She talked to the goofy tour organizer ike she knew her stuff which was encouraging. So we started out.

We started to head up the hill to the equipo (outfit) rental place (a butch shop named Hong Kong in the front, equipment rental in the back - normal...right?)

We bought water and cigarettes to give to the miners (and el tio) and headed into the mine. They didnt have coca leaves (to give as an offering to the tio) to buy but we decided to risk it and went in anyway. When we got about 75meters into the mine there was the tio. The guardian. The god of the mine. Miners make their offerings to him for protection, strength and a safe return out of the mine.
2 cigarettes - because tio smokes
Coca Leaves- for their scared value as an offering to el tio and to the La Pacha Mama (mother earth in Quechua) the giver of all things as an offering of thanks
Alcohol drops on the ground that they might find the mineral
Alcohol on his shoulders that they might have strength and not tire
Alcohol on his penis that they will be fertil and roduce offspring to continue to live in Potosi

All the time asking for a safe return out of the mine.
They take a wig of alcohol/whiskey and pass it around their compañeros. They do this when they can (not everyday, but often) We did as well. Minus the drinking alcohol part.

We walked into the mine. Pitch black, cool and damp. Having to bend a bit so not to hit our heads. We had to get out of the way 3 or 4 times to let the little train cart pass. We saw large holes in the wall where they had used dynamite to blast through the walls to extract the mineral. And tunnels to deeper shafts to bring the mineral up from lower levels.
The higher on the hill the cooler it is inside. The lower down, the hotter it gets.

A little shaky (only from the altitude of course, and maybe a bit from the mine) we walked deeper. There were some places where there was standing water almost to our ankles. Water that comes when it rains. There are drainage pipes so that it doesnt get to deep, but the water levels can get to be waist deep.

Possibly my favorite part of the tour was when Celia said ¨Bueno, solo hasta aqui - tenemos que regresar ahora¨ (Ok, only to here, we have to go back now).

I made it out safe and sound. A little shaken, but happy to have had the experience.
On our walk down the hill Celia and I started to talk more and realized we have lots in common. She wants to travel and tour guide in other places and loves studying cultures and peoples and wants to speak more english. I volunteered any english that I can teach via email and the deal was sealed.

We went to find api (the most amazing bolivian drink) Sweet, cinnamony corn drink. Wild but wonderful. WWe had our snack before my bus. She took me to pick up my things, and then to the bus stop and waited with me until I got on. I felt like I had founda kindered spirit. And she agreed to teach me some Quechua (it will have to be an online course, of course.)