Mining methods have changed little over the years. The miners still toil from dawn till dusk. Generators pump air into tunnels so they can breath. Children still wriggle into tiny places where adults cannot go. Working sometimes for 10 hours or more a day in extreme temperatures, the miners keep going by chewing coca leaves. Two-thirds of the population have respiratory ailments.
Amalia Barron, "Potosi's Silver Tears"
Long before I set foot in Bolivia I watched the movie, The Devil's Miner. The documentary follows the day to day of a 14 years old boy who works as a miner in the Cerro Rico, the mountain that eats men. The movie is depressing. Entering the mines themselves is even more depressing. I don't know how the mines of Cerro Rico became a tourist attraction but each year thousands of backpackers come to Potosi to see what working in the mines is like (for two hours, without actually doing any work). I recommend watching the movie, I wouldn't recommend going inside the mines unless you like shaking yourself up.
Around 9,000 miners still work in the mines of the Cerro Rico, including hundreds of children. These days the mines of Cerro Rico aren't producing the quantities of silver of the past and the state run programs of the 1980's are long gone. Only the "scavengers of Cerro Rico" continue to navigate through a labyrinth of over 20,000 tunnels, looking to chisel out every last scrap of valuable material they can find. No big equipment, no safety standards. The life expectancy of the average miner is around forty years old. Most miners meet their fate through Silicosis because of the high amounts of dust within the mines.
The children, who put their lives at risk, earn the Bolivian equivalent of $3 for a 12-hour workday. As seen in the film, it takes two months’ salary just to purchase the necessary uniform and supplies to attend school in the region. In a remote region with no sustainable economy, Cerro Rico looms over the city of Potosà like a god that both gives and takes away life. Without it, the people of Potosà would have nothing; with it, they’re able to eke out a basic existence. But every time they go deep into the earth, they’re never sure if they’ll come out again.
The children, who put their lives at risk, earn the Bolivian equivalent of $3 for a 12-hour workday. As seen in the film, it takes two months’ salary just to purchase the necessary uniform and supplies to attend school in the region. In a remote region with no sustainable economy, Cerro Rico looms over the city of Potosà like a god that both gives and takes away life. Without it, the people of Potosà would have nothing; with it, they’re able to eke out a basic existence. But every time they go deep into the earth, they’re never sure if they’ll come out again.
They tell you the tour is not for wimps or claustrophobics or asthmatics or reasonable people. And even though the mountain has claimed around 8 million people since they began mining it in the mid-1500's, you justify your participation in the tour because thousands of other tourists have done it before you. Silicosis takes years to accumulate in your lungs. Stalactites covered with arsenic only affect you after long term exposure. The miners currently trapped in Chile have Ipods and newspapers to keep them happy. All the guide books say entering the mines is an eye opening experience. Somehow, prior to actually entering the mines, I knew that crawling beneath thousands of tons of heavy rock, breathing hot, dust filled for ten hours a day was similar to a visit to hell. The tour reinforced these beliefs but I'm still debating if that reinforcement was necessary.
Our Mining Crew - Tom, Jeff, Shola and Ben.
The trip to the mines begins with a group gear up. While throwing on a miners suit and helmet looked quite gimmicky at first, the value of the uniforms was revealed the first time I found myself crawling on my stomach, bashing my head on the mines sharp ceiling. After the gear up our group of six was paraded through a small market where we bought gifts for the miners. Although guides were paid to take us to the mines, we were also asked to buy gifts for the miners, kind of as a token of forgiveness/entrance fee. The work inside the mines is brutal and having a bunch of gawking tourists standing in your way doesn't help the mood, so to stop the miners from taking a pick axe to the face of each tourist, every group that enters the mines is asked to bring gifts of coca leaves, soda pop and dynamite.
The entrance to one of several mines in the Cerro Rico
The easy part. After a 10 minute walk were I could almost stand up straight our group descended through a tunnel the size of a tube slide in a Ronald McDonald's playland. It was not comfortable. Instead of landing in a ball pit we found ourselves deeper underground, where the ceilings were lower and the air much hotter. At our lowest point in the mine the temperature reached almost 100 degrees. I could barely just from the crawling. The altitude and the dust made it hard. I had to concentrate not to flip out and cry. We watched miners drag, pull and carry mineral filled rocks back and fourth. By the end of our time inside the mines our lungs and eyes were burning. The tour inside the mines lasted for two hours. I am not cut out to be a miner.
Ben and I in the mine shaft. My mouth is discolored from the large amount of coca leaves I was chewing. The leaves, which all miners chew habitually, are supposed to help with breathing and give energy. More than anything the leaves helped me to not think about the possibility of large rocks raining down on us.
Giving thanks to the Devil
Hundreds of statues of the devil (lord of the underworld, hades, Glen Beck, etc.) can be found within the mines of the Cerro Rico. While the majority of miners are Catholic the majority also believe that God has no presence within the dark depths of the mines. Only the devil or El Tio, as the miners call him, can offer protection within the mines. Each mining group makes offerings of coca leaves, booze and tobacco to El Tio in the hopes that he will protect them while they work. Sitting next to El Tio in the deep shafts of the Cerro Rico, while gasping for air and sweating profusely, made for one eerie experience. If I had to work the mines in the mountain that eats men, I would be making offerings to the devil too.
If El Tio is not fed, he will take matters into his own hands and feed on human flesh. But for many of Potosi's citizens, El Tio is more trustworthy than their own government...
- Aaron Roesch, "Unearthing Potosi: The Enduring Plight of Bolivian Miners"
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