Potosi Bolivia is where everyone goes to wander around deep in the bowels of the nearby mines. Everyone, that is, except me. Why didn't I go? Let me explain...
I had been reading about Potosi and the mines even before I got there. There are a lot of interesting stories surrounding the place. One claim is that the number of people who have died working in the mines is around 8 million. (Mostly indigenous and African slaves.) It was at one point the largest, wealthiest city in the Americas, if not the world. The dollar sign ($) we use today is taken from the Potosi silver stamp, which is a P on top of an S on top of an I. The wealth taken from the mines is what caused Europe to flourish and even ushered in the industrial revolution.
At least, those are some of the claims. To me, though, the relevant fact is that today the mines are still being worked in much the same way as they were 500 years ago. Basically, it's just guys pounding away at rocks with picks, shovels, and the occasional dynamite blast. Safety regulations? Ha! Labor laws? Double Ha! (It is not uncommon for boys as young as ten to work there to help support their family.)
If you want to see a very well done documentary movie about the subject, check out "The Devil's Miner", which follows the life of a 14 year old and his younger brother. Something interesting to note is that in this highly Catholic country, the miners actually do everything they can to please "Tio"/the Devil, since he is the one who controls the fate of the miners underground. Every mine has a little statue of the Tio and they give it gifts of coca leaves and liquor. Kind of weird, eh?
The Anthropologist in me finds all this really interesting. The humanitarian in me says it's also kind of messed up. So I thought about going, and may have even had a chance at a free tour. But in the end, despite the fact that many of the miners actually look forward to the tours (people are expected to bring down drinks, coca, etc.) I decided I would pass. A part of me regrets that, but it's not a large part.
Besides, I had other things on my mind like the fact that I was essentially broke. My stupid ATM card wasn't working and the better part of one morning was spent trying to find some semi-transparent scotch tape to place over the magnetic strip in a last-ditch effort to get the thing to read. You might be surprised at how hard it is to find such tape in Bolivia. I eventually did, but the card still didn't work. (Turns out, it was a Bolivian ATM thing. I didn't learn this until I got back to Peru, unfortunately.)
Thank goodness for Western Union. On the upside, I got to experience what it was like to walk into a bank, and nervously walk out with a large heap of money. I'm not the first guy to come from Wyoming and do that, but in the end I had better luck than the one I'm thinking of.
I had been reading about Potosi and the mines even before I got there. There are a lot of interesting stories surrounding the place. One claim is that the number of people who have died working in the mines is around 8 million. (Mostly indigenous and African slaves.) It was at one point the largest, wealthiest city in the Americas, if not the world. The dollar sign ($) we use today is taken from the Potosi silver stamp, which is a P on top of an S on top of an I. The wealth taken from the mines is what caused Europe to flourish and even ushered in the industrial revolution.
At least, those are some of the claims. To me, though, the relevant fact is that today the mines are still being worked in much the same way as they were 500 years ago. Basically, it's just guys pounding away at rocks with picks, shovels, and the occasional dynamite blast. Safety regulations? Ha! Labor laws? Double Ha! (It is not uncommon for boys as young as ten to work there to help support their family.)
If you want to see a very well done documentary movie about the subject, check out "The Devil's Miner", which follows the life of a 14 year old and his younger brother. Something interesting to note is that in this highly Catholic country, the miners actually do everything they can to please "Tio"/the Devil, since he is the one who controls the fate of the miners underground. Every mine has a little statue of the Tio and they give it gifts of coca leaves and liquor. Kind of weird, eh?
The Anthropologist in me finds all this really interesting. The humanitarian in me says it's also kind of messed up. So I thought about going, and may have even had a chance at a free tour. But in the end, despite the fact that many of the miners actually look forward to the tours (people are expected to bring down drinks, coca, etc.) I decided I would pass. A part of me regrets that, but it's not a large part.
Besides, I had other things on my mind like the fact that I was essentially broke. My stupid ATM card wasn't working and the better part of one morning was spent trying to find some semi-transparent scotch tape to place over the magnetic strip in a last-ditch effort to get the thing to read. You might be surprised at how hard it is to find such tape in Bolivia. I eventually did, but the card still didn't work. (Turns out, it was a Bolivian ATM thing. I didn't learn this until I got back to Peru, unfortunately.)
Thank goodness for Western Union. On the upside, I got to experience what it was like to walk into a bank, and nervously walk out with a large heap of money. I'm not the first guy to come from Wyoming and do that, but in the end I had better luck than the one I'm thinking of.
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