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It was only $3 more per head to charter a private bus to Potosi vs taking the public bus (which we are told are pretty dire, with no loos, and folks would board the bus with their chickens, etc), so naturally we all voted for the private charter ... only to find that the bus was not in that great shape either, smelt of stale body odour and petrol, with sections falling off the bus as we made our 6-hr journey on unpaved roads through narrow, winding mountainous terrain, barren apart from clumps of grass and shrubbery. We passed a few poor villages, their single storey houses rudimentarily constructed from stone - and the villagers appeard to survive through farming the harsh unhospitable land, the animals comprising mainly goats and a few llamas.
About 5 hrs into the journey, our vehicle slowed down, and we saw a few other cars that had stopped on the side. The driver hesitated just for a short while before pushing forward again .... a few moments later, we felt the front right of the bus dropping into a large hole. We heard the engine revving and the wheels spinning as the driver attempted to back up, but the bus did not budge. We could not see upfront as the driver had drawn the curtain between the driver and passenger compartments. From our passenger windows, we could see a little stream running alongside the mountain on the left, and gushing across to the right side of the road and down the mountainside. A few seconds later, the bus door opened, at least 6 people jumped out from the drivers' compartment - there were only 2 seats in the drivers' compartment in addition to the drivers' seat, so the rest were obviously standing passengers. (And I naively thought we had a privately chartered bus - I was vaguely aware that the bus had stopped to pick up a few stray hitchers, folks that the driver knew presumably or more likely, the driver was supplementing his income with these standing passengers). Our driver put the bus into reverse again, and after a few attempts, he managed to get the bus back out onto the road surface. The bus driver jumped out, and at this stage, my curiousity got the better of me and I opened the door to the driver's compartment - through the windscreen, I saw what the problem was. There had obviously been some rain earlier, which caused a little stream to build up along the mountainside on the left; where the road curved to the left, the stream gushed straight across and washed the dust road into the ravine below on our right, leaving a 15 ft stretch of uneven rocky terrain in front of us, with large gaping holes and a gushing stream in our immediate path. A few cars and trucks had also started lining up on the other side of the stream coming in the opposite direction; all the drivers surveyed the scene, weighing up their options. Our driver's assistant started to find some large rocks to fill a few of the large gaps in the rocky, watery stream (formerly our road). We were instructed to get off the bus to lighten the load, while the driver attempted the crossing again. We were to make our way across on foot, which basically meant leaping across 2 rather scary and fairly deep ditches. The bus made it across sucessfully and so did we - thank goodness! I did not fancy the other alternatives, which was probably to turn back to Uyuni (although we probably did not have enough petrol for the 5 hr journey back), or to camp out in the bus in the middle of the mountains at some 4,000m high, with no food and no heat, until workmen had been dispatched to repair the road.
Potosi was historically a rich mining town, particularly for silver. The Spaniards exploited the mines through use of slave and indigenous Indian labour. The mining conditions were hazardous and more than 8 million labourers have perished in the 400 years that the mines have been operating. The mineral supply is now severely depleted, and only the Cerro Rico mines (now managed as a miners' cooperative) remain in operation.
We visited one of the Cerro Rico mines (there are approximately 500 in total). The key minerals mined today are zinc, tin and copper, but with the depleted supply of minerals, the miners only take home an average of Bs40 (< $6 a day), hardly anything at all considering the risks involved in their vocation - the average life span of a miner is 10 years, due to either accidents in the mines, or silicosis where the lungs are damaged through dust inhalation. Many miners have turned to alternate employment, but unfortunately the option is not available to everyone, and many including children aged 14 or under, are compelled through economic necessity to work in the mines. (The Devil's Miner, which we watched a few days' later in Sucre, is an excellent documentary which portrayed the living and working conditions of 2 child miners in Cerro Rico. We actually met the younger brother featured in the movie, when he tried to sell us some souvenir mineral pieces at the end of the tour.) The miners are superstitious: whereas on the surface they practise their Catholic beliefs, as soon as they enter the mines, the Devil becomes the master. The miners provide offerings of coca leaves and alcohol to the Devil, in return for the Devil's protection and a fruitful production of minerals. In addition to the Devil, the miners also believe in 4 other gods: the Mother Earth (Pacha Mama), their version of Jesus Christ, the Sun and the Moon. We wandered through the various tunnels, often having to climb up or down through several holes in the ceiling / ground. We had to constantly watch our step to avoid falling through gaping holes along our paths. If a miner's lamp goes out, the miner would not risk finding his way out on his own - there are too many hazards and a slight misstep could be fatal - instead he would signal for help to his fellow miners by knocking on the walls (using their own code), and would sit tight till help arrives. The miners do not have watches, and they estimate the passage of time through the taste and texture of the coca leaves that they chew. The coca leaves are essential to the miners as they prevent hunger and fatigue, particularly important as they often work long shifts, of up to 24 hrs. The coca leaves are also used as a dust filter - the miner would consciously inhale through their mouths rather than their noses. The miners are unable to afford proper masks - they understand and accept the risks they take by using this cheaper, more rudimentary and much less effective measure. It was a very enlightening tour, but also very sobering.
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