Cerro Pobre

Our group of 16 paraded down the street, dressed up in ridiculous jumpsuits and yellow hard hats. There was no doubt that we were tourist, and today we were touring the silver mines of Cerro Rico.

Cerro Rico was discovered by the Spanish and has been mined for over 400 years. Although the mountain originally was mined externally, soon the external desposits of minerals disapeared and now the mine carves down 17 levels into the earth. It take 3 1/2 hours simply to walk from the entrance to the bottom of the mine. We only walked down the third level, and I cant imagine going down any further.

Inside the mine was pretty terrifying. When a dynamite went off, every nerve in my body froze as the impact shuddered into my feet and out my ears. The passages are tight and dark, and it is so hard to breathe because of all the dust and the heat. It was necessary to crawl on your hands and knees for five to ten minutes at a time. To me, it was like squeezing up and down a covered playground slide, except the walls were made of cool, jagged rocks. Inside, we learned a bit about the history and present of the mine (both similar stories of poverty and dangers). We also spoke to a few miners, all drinking Ciebo (96% alcohol; sold cheaply in the mining stores right along side the dynamite) and chewing coca for energy.

Being down in the hole was really tough. It was easy to get over the physical strain of breathing through the dust and sqeezing down claustrophobic passages, the emotional impact was harder to shake. It is horrible in the mines and the lifestyle is so bad. Mining culture is riddle with domestic violence, alcoholism, and abandonment. They drink and joke about things to avoid reality; who can blame them? Between 30 and 40 people die in the Potosi mine each year, and at least someone gets injured every day.

To be honest, I hated the tour. I came out feeling very sad. I was sad partially because of the situation in mine, but mostly because of our actions. I felt like an immoral spectator at a zoo: holding onto my privilage, playing ´dress up,´ and seeing the mining life just for shock value. I didn´t feel welcome into the mine, and I felt like I was taking advantage of the miners struggles. Sure, my hands and clothes got dirty, but we were still viewing the mines and the miners through a glass wall.
I understand that experience and emotional response are powerful and can spread awareness- indeed, it sparked some great conversations within our group- but I´d rather learn about mining hardships in a more sensitive way.