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20/5 Potosi mine
Up in time for a rushed breakfast and then the English couple and I headed with a group of others to the Potosi mine for a 'tour of oporations'. Sarah decided not to go down the mine, tight spaces and a knowledge of what a safe mine should look like we're the biggest factors.
We headed to the plaza as a large group, a little concerned as groups are only to contain less than 8 people. To say it was a crammed full minibus would be an understatement. This full bus was so diverse and it possibly illustrated the unique type of experience it was. Many languages were being spoken on the way to the mine clothing house, even sign language! The local Bolivian guides (who are ex-workers) were amazing, really getting into the English and Spanish and having fun trying sign language.
We arrived for clothing fitting and were separated into groups. When only 3 people put up their hands to be in a Spanish speaking group, we three decided to test our skills... What could go wrong down a mine in Bolivia??
We headed to the street to buy presents for the miners, nice little gifts like TNT, ampho (high explosive substance) alcohol (96%, we tasted it and it burn alittle) coca leaves (to be chewed to reduce the effects of altitude), juice or water. The three of us bought an explosive complete pack, coca leaves and booze. After a hard days work we all enjoy a nice stiff drink, some stronger than others.
We headed from here to the mill. This was a dangerous open facility with wobbly boards over and around large fast spinning belts. The extraction with cyanide was open to be seen and we even sampled a little silver on our fingers. We had to climb and crawl our way out. There was one safety sign next to to open transformer and powerboard area and that was the safety. Very interesting.
We climbed back onto busses and headed to the mine. The next part was very different. The day before, the mine group at this entrance had their annual sacrifice to the gods. They sacrificed two llamas, threw the blood over the buildings and the entrance to the mine, threw the skins in the entrance and buried the bodies. I couldn't understand what they did with the organs. A different start to the tour. Some miners were sitting talking as we turned up, a huge ball of coca leaves in the cheek, about the size of half a tennis ball.
The entrance was alittle bigger than the diesel cart they used on level 1, but we all still had to duck the whole time. We entered and made our way 400m into the mine, to a small 10m long crawlspace off to one side. At this point we were sweating our asses off and having so much trouble breathing. The mine has no ventilation and a huge amount of dust. We waited for other to came out and then the guys went in with the presents, the girls did not like the idea of the space. We came out the other side to see the god of the underground, a mixture of the devil and god who we offer a sacrifice to. We gave some coca leaves to the god and chewed some ourselves, we were underground at over 4150m above sea level.
We returned to the two girls and headed along the tracks. At this point the other lady said no more. we climbed down small holes, avoided massive voids, stepped over problems, ducked under compressed air lines and power cables in the same piping, under the cracked and broken wooden support and over the water hazards. The safety instructions included 'the ladder steps two and three are loose but stable,' 'two steps are broken but they hold', and the best when looking down a hole we have to climb down, 'don't touch the electrical wires, wood or... Anything, only rock.' it turns out the 'supports' can't hold us up but it can hold upthd mine?
We gave some presents to the miners on level four, a level where you can't breath and it's swelteringly hot. I don't know how they can carry the 30kg bags of rock out up that mine. They gave us some ore and we started the crazy climb back out. There was a sense of urgency in our guides voice. Later when we were on level two it clicked to me and I asked the question, 'they get the tourists out at blast time don't they.... What time does it start?' The answer was a relaxed time from then for the next hour.... So we should move.
Just as we neared level one, I was leading the group up and i popped my head up holding onto what I later realised was the rails for the carts. I was quickly rushed to a hole on the side with a screaming woman in it. There was a crashing and rumbling, the sound of the cart, I'm sure she thought it was a cave in. After this she could not walk, helped out screaming hysterically.
We finally saw daylight and some semi-fresh air. A beer at the surface and we could celebrate surviving the mine.
When we arrived back to the hostel where Sarah had been very busy on the iPhone front.
Sarah got a message from a friend that another person has found a phone. She used the name and facebook to try find the person and sent photos to her friend. Then, knowing the person is from shelfield, googled this information and got a photo of someone we all recognise. She then Facebook messaged him and we waited. We remembered this guy saying he was going to Sucre, so hopefully we would catch him in Potosi or otherwise Sucre.
We had decided to give the cool little town of Potosi an extra day so we could do a tour of the mint. It was said to be one of the best museums in bolivia. Potosi was actually the richest place in the 17th century, and was a huge wealth for the Spanish.
We all went out for lunch and since the days had been busy and the high altitude was also taking its toll, Sarah and I rested for the afternoon and googled/relaxed.
21/5 The mint and the taxi
The next day we teamed up with the English couple again and headed to the mint. It was even more interesting doing the tour with a jewellery maker and designer. The tour started with old paintings in the amazing thick stone building. We later saw the coins from the early presses for the Spanish to the last coins of the 1950's, and everything in between. This included the Argentinian coins produced on the two occasions that they took Potosi. It was also illustrated that the Spanish colony mints had their own symbols, and the purity of silver and quantity produced led to the potosi coins being the first globally accepted currency! The symbol was a P, T and S over each other. The US thought this was the currency symbol and that's where the origion of the $ comes from. I had wondered where an S with a line or two through it came from, how does $ mean dollars?
We then saw the origional hammer press pieces and the press designed by Da Vinci and sent to Potosi. Many of the rooms were kept from their origional use. It was great seeing the progression from mules to steam to electricity, and the developments of method during this. Interesting points include the use of mules instead of horses as they struggled at 4100m. The poor mules worked 12 hour days, 6 days a week, lasting upto 3 months turning the large gears before they died. The mint required a constant supply from Argentina and Chile.
We went through the furnace rooms, rooms where silver was extracted for hundreds of years and followed it with a room full of minerals, some unique to Potosi. The next room was one of great interest and partial disbelief. Since its so high, cold and dry, it take a long time for decomposition of bodies. On show were the mummified remains of babies both normal and some deformed to have cone shaped heads. These bodies were extremely well preserved, hair, shin, faces, patterns on the clothes! The last parts we looked at were large metal pieces used by the Spanish. These included tools used to weigh the metals, presses, stamps and the amazing 12 lock system cases used to transport the silver. this included fake locks. The 'booty' went through a huge number of ports, finally banding a huge fleet together and sailing from near Cuba to Spain to limit losses to pirates.
The tour was great fun and is a must to anyone heading to Potosi.
We headed back to look for how we were getting to sucre. we got into a conversation about prices to Sucre with an astounding result. Taxis to and from the bus stations and the bus was less than $1 per person cheeper than taking a 2.5 hour taxi!!!
We rope the four bags into the cars boot, pile in and head on a funny adventure. After a while of me trying to talk to the driver in Spanish with reasonable success and the Brits talking British shop in the back, I get the feeling the driver has had enough. He pulls out a very old cassette and plays the stretched music and hands me a newspaper...... Maybe my spanish wasn't as good as I thought.
We arrive with the driver stopping to run an erin or two, feeding us hot bread, and pull in at the hostel, opposite the very busy central market.
We decide on a time to meet for dinner at a local bar the French couple recommended. To my surprise, David the spanish speaking Swiss guy from the mine tour randomly joins us. After dinner, beers, two jugs of cocktails and wine the huge bill is under $10 each.... Gotta love Bolivia.
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