Aline's travel blog: Nov 5, Saturday & Nov 6, Sunday

Sorry for this late posting but Potosi had an electrical failure this morning and I could not upload my blog

Nov 6, Sunday

I woke up extremely early because I fell asleep extremely early last night. I went on-line and sorted out some photos, and then all the lights went out. The electricity went off at about 6 am in the entire historical district of Potosi, and it is not expected to be back on until late afternoon. I used up almost all of the battery power on my laptop and was ready to go on-line to publish my blog, but there was no wifi connection. Somehow linked to the electricity? Who knows? So you won’t get this update until I reach Chile in about 4 days.

I could have gone out again to visit some of Potosi churches, since it was Sunday and they were finally open, but I just couldn’t get the energy levels up, so I had a leisurely breakfast at the hotel and sorted out my luggage. I checked out at 11 and Olga was there at 11:20 as promised to take me to the bus station for my 12:00 local bus to Uyuni.

There were two French men at my hotel who left by taxi for the bus station, just a few minutes before I did. They are also doing the 3-day trek. We will probably see each other again along the way. One of them kept remembering stuff he had forgotten: shirts he sent to be laundered, his passport in the hotel safe, some American money.

I get to the bus station and there is the French guy (mentioned above) trying to locate the cab that dropped them off. He forgot his camera case in the taxi and is hoping that the driver will come back to give him his case. No way of calling the taxi company, he did not notice, and many are private cars. No way is he ever going to see this camera again unless another tourist finds it and tries to track him down in France if his home address is inside the case. (Note to self: add a paper with your name and address in your camera case!)

We all get on the bus. There is a large group from France taking up half the seats. Some vendors come on the bus while we are getting on and arranging our carry-on baggage, some are small children. As we get ready to take off, one of the ladies from France realizes that her camera, which she had placed on her seat while she was putting things in the overhead bin, was GONE ! Guess those two cute little kids who were selling stuff were also picking up stuff. Another warning to self: these aren’t just stories about thefts. The lady is so distraught that she is sobbing her heart out. No way to console her. Their guide reports the theft to the driver, but nothing can be done, not that the driver even tries to help find the culprits.
For some reason I thought it was only 1 ½ hours; it’s actually a 6 hour bus ride. I was sitting beside a very young mother and her 8 month old daughter. Cute! She had these lovely little butterfly lips and big brown eyes, and a very serious face. It took about 1 hour to get her to smile and for the rest of the ride she was either on my lap or her mothers. I got to play with baby Maria and I think her mother was quite happy to have the help. I did notice that for an 8 month old baby, she had no strength in her legs. Probably passing too much time being carried by mommy in her shawl.The scenery from Potosi to Uyuni was in parts bland and boring, and then immensely interesting. The group from France were a real hoot as well, at least the ones sitting close to where I was sitting.
We got into Uyuni just after 6 pm. No one there to meet me! I waited about 20 minutes and then walked to a nearby TICO office (phone & internet) to get them to call the service which was supposed to pick me up. The stupid phone had this echo, so that I heard every single word I uttered back into the ear piece. The guy from the local tourist company could not understand what I was trying to say, or I could not understand what he was asking; in any case, I got the lady who was running the shop to pick up the phone and talk to him. No problem, he’d be right over. The man was very nice when he showed up running down the street. He said that he had not been advised at what time my bus would be arriving. Not sure why he did not contact the company in Lima that had arranged everything for me, but anyway….. He waved down a taxi and we went to the Hostal Tambo Aymara. Hélène, you would love all the blankets on the bed. I think I’m in danger of smothering to death. It looks like nothing from the outside but is very quaint.
Asked the guy at the front desk for directions to a restaurant close-by and off I went. There are no street lights, so I wanted to be back before it got too dark. Played it safe and had a personal ham and mushroom pizza with a beer. No wifi here and only 4 channels on the TV so I think I’ll have another early night.

Nov 5, Saturday

City tour of Potosi and visit to the mine. Olga picked me up at 9, exactly as planned, and we walked down the street to the main square

There were lots of people around and Olga explained that a big race was taking place today, with runners from all over Bolivia, and some from Peru as well. It was a re-enactment of Inca runners, but definitely at the wrong place (there were no Incas in this area; the mine was discovered by the Spanish). But it was quite a spectacle. Every racer has to be dressed as an Inca messenger/runner (Chasquis). No modern shoes either; they must wear sandals, and not the new ones with modern treads.

Even the women got into it

They runners leave the main square by car and are taken to Cero Rico, the mountain where the mines are located, for the start of the race. They then run back down the mountain, circling Potosi, and ending back on the main square. Olga thinks it should take approximately 1 ½ hours to do so. I’ll have to check out the papers tomorrow morning to see how fast the winner was. There is also a prize for the best costume.

We walked around the square for the better part of an hour, waiting for our driver to show up. Then we went up towards the mine to get ready for our visit. Up in the higher streets where the miners live, they have set up areas where we remove our shoes, put plastic bags over our socks, and put on rubber boots. Then we put on pants to cover our own, and a huge blouse to cover our tops. Add a hard hat and a miner’s lamp and we are all set to go. Oh no, wait. There is one more thing; you must bring a gift for the miners. Coca leaves, soft drink, cigarettes, alcohol, or possibly some stuff they chew with the coca leaves. I buy a bag of coca leaves and a big bottle of orangeade. Olga buys a bag of coca leaves (which she immediately starts chewing), a tiny bottle of 96 proof alcohol, 4 cigarettes, and a small soft drink. We get back in our little bus and continue our way up the mountain. Some of the roads are closed because of the race, but we make it up the mountain anyway and are dropped off where the race is scheduled to begin in just a few minutes. I was filming the take off, so sorry, no pics.

Mine entrance

If you look to the center, just slightly right of this picture, you will see a huge truck going up the mountain. Gives you an idea of how big this is.

Olga in blue with racers getting ready above her

Me in my cute little mine visitor suit, hard hat, lamp and carrying my gift to the mine workers

We made our way to one of the entrances. This one is used by a cooperative and there are no modern tools here. This is the same way they mined hundreds of years ago. During the past year 13 miners have died from accidents. They don’t keep track of those who die of related medical problems.

Technically, the government owns all the mines in Bolivia. The government does sell off the rights to big companies but they get a big chunk of funds for this. Here at Cero Rico (Rich Mountain) the government mines a certain area higher up in the mountain. We can see the big trucks and machinery up there.

The government allows cooperatives to mine in the lower areas. Here there is no fancy equipment.

So we finally enter the mine. I’m only 5ft2 now, and with the hard hat add a couple of inches, but we still have to bend down to enter the mine.

There are plastic pipes and wires hanging down from above throughout the shaft we follow. Thankfully everything is all on one level, although there are times when we are walking in puddles of water. About a third of the time we can walk standing up; the rest of the time we are bent to dodge the overhanging pipes and wires. The shaft itself is sometimes only 4 feet high. We only have the lights from our hard hats and it`s hard to see; I stumble quite a few times but manage not to fall.

We reach a point where the miners have placed a statue of the god of the underground; he is Pacha Mama`s husband (mother earth) and together they make children (the minerals in the mine). So the miners provide gifts to this god to protect them while they work and to help them locate the minerals.

Both Olga and I give gifts to TIHO (the underground god) of coca leaves. Olga then lights a cigarette, puffs it a few times to send the smoke to the god, and places the lit cigarette in his mouth. She then takes the small bottle of alcohol and dribbles some on different parts of the god’s body, as well as on the earth in front of him as an offering. She then sips some of the alcohol herself. As she finishes this a group of tourists arrive with their guide, so we leave and make our way back out of the mine.

At one point in the tunnel we smell some type of acrid odour. Olga takes my hand and tells me to hurry as we go into one of the side tunnels. It appears that they have blasted, somewhere in the mine (not in our sector) and the odour from the cordite has made its way down to us. Within a few minutes, the smoke has dissipated enough for us to leave, but I can still smell it and can`t stop coughing. We make it back out into the fresh air.

Obviously these types of working conditions would never be allowed in Canada, or in many other countries, but here it is the norm. The miners work all day, 5 or 6 days per week. (It is Saturday but no one is working today because of the race) They have no protective equipment, no insurance, and no modern tools to work with. They enter the mine after breakfast and don`t come out again until supper time. I am speechless and have tears in my eyes, and it`s not from the gas in the mine.

As we exit the mine, little boy waiting at the entrance to sell us rocks. No Hélène, I did not buy any.

We get back down to Potosi in time for lunch and Olga advises that she will pick me up again at 2:15 to continue our tour of the city. I freshen up and go to a nearby restaurant for a salad (tomatoes & local cheese, sprinkled with herbs) and soup (Llama & quinoa). There is a large group of Canadians there, all speaking French so I went over and had a chat with them. SO NICE ! They were from Montréal and Québec.

Set off for the afternoon portion of the tour, which was mostly a visit of ``la Casa de Moneda`` (the mint) which was used from the 1700s to the mid 1900s. Quite impressive to see the old wooden equipment, all cogs and wheels.

Casa de la Moneda