Prima di riprendere con il racconto della fantastica avventura a 6000 metri di altitudine sul Huayna Potosì, un breve aggiornamernto…

Dopo 3 notti a Sucre, splendida bianca, coloniale, “mezza capitale” della Bolivia, nella quale ci siamo rilassati visitando i musei cittadini e facendo una gita fuori mano davvero istruttiva, che sarà raccontata a breve, siamo arrivati oggi a Potosì, che definirei come la Las Vegas del Sudamerica del 1600…famosa per i suoi giacimenti di argento, sfruttatissimi dagli Spagnoli…nella sua epoca aurea fino alla prima metà del secolo diciassettesimo per circa un secolo, la città fu invasa da cercatori di argento, che la fecero diventare la città più popolata del continente, epoca di splendore nel quale fiorirono il gioco d’azzardo, i bordelli e le chiese…si  da bravi cristiani, non me ne vogliano i credenti, cercavano di ingraziarsi il buon Dio, con la costruzione di chiese e poi spendevano i soldi in azzardo e donne….

Ma poi tutto finì e la città cadde in miseria…rimangono le tombe di milioni di persone, soprattutto schiavi neri che non abituati all’altitudine e stremati dal lavoro e dalle  sue insalubri condizioni  , morivano per problemi alle vie respiratorie, con un tasso di mortalità che si aggirava sui 40 anni…Oggi le miniere, che sono più di 400, sono ancora in funzione, lo stato le ha abbandonato e sono gestite da cooperative di lavoratori…domani scendiamo all’inferno per questo viaggio a 50 metri di profondità nelle viscere di un continente che è stato sfruttato negli ultimi secoli dalla voracità europea..compreremo regali per i minatori: dinamite, sigari neri, foglie di coca e staremo li sotto, tra cunicoli, e polvere di zolfo per piu di 2 ore..a presto per il racconto dall’inferno…

Not sure if this is a seasonal beer, you would think but there is no indication that it is. Either way, winter beers are here. Classic favorites for myself, Summit’s Winter Ale, Schell’s Snowstorm and Sierra Nevada’s Celebration Ale are in my rotation as well as picking up some new ones. This one comes from Potosi Brewery in Potosi, Wisconsin, a brewery that has been around since 1852 but had been shut down in the 70’s and has now found a new resurgence. Unfortunately I did not get a chance to visit this brewery but I plan to in the future. I go this from my good buddy Phil who went on a brewery tour in the lower west part of Wisconsin. Looking at the pictures and reading the history I am excited to check this place out, I love old breweries and especially the small ones that keep it real.

The Holiday Bock is a nice beer. Nothing extreme or potent. It seems to have been around for a while and I am not sure if it is the same recipe as it was decades ago. It’s not as heavy as one might like but very smooth. The malt characters are prominent with little hop flavors. I researched this beer as much as I could but really couldn’t find much except that it is there and was there before. It was fairly potent weighing in at 7% ABV so I suppose it could have been a traditional recipe but I am not sure if Wisconsin had a ABV law then, probably not, drunks. This isn’t a complex beer by any measure, it’s actually quite typical but there are times when beers like this really hit the spot. It’s not a bare bones lager but something drinkable yet flavorful.

Potosi Brewery’s Holiday Bock

B+

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The Witches’ Market – Thomas Carroll encounters strange luck charms in La Paz’s famous market.

Sweet Like Sucre - Esther Press  meets some young entrepreneurs, has a bargain lunch, and takes a ride on a “Dino-Truck” in the southern Bolivian town of Sucre.

Diggin’ Deep . . The Potosí Mines – EPress buys some gifts for the Cerro Rico miners and blows up some dynamite in Potosí.

The Bolivian Salt Falts: Mother Nature’s Watercolor Playground – Uncornered Market has a photo essay on the surreal Salar de Uyuni.

Bolivia by Boat – Tom Dibblee meditates his way down a river in the Bolivian Amazon.

I’ve Been Up the Mountain and I Had a Choice – The trek up Huayna Potosí bends, but not breaks, Michael Bonnet.

Rainforest Could Be Traded on World Market – BBC reports on the collaboration of private energy firms and environmental groups in conservancy projects.

Here’s the link to my photos from Bolivia so far, including the Salar de Uyuni.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=130934&id=524640807&l=4bfac1e869

Despite my reservations and worries the six hour bus trip from Uyuni to Potosi turned out to be a walk in the park, in comparison to the Tupiza/Villazon journey, with a mostly paved road and no sign of any of the roadblocks and civil disturbances and complaints which I’ve heard so much about in Bolivia.

Potosi is the highest city of it’s size in the World, and I was a little surprised to find that the altitude hit me as soon as I got off the bus. Sergio had been feeling the altitude even in Uyuni so medication was at hand, and I decided not to brave the fifteen minute uphill trek to the hostel I had been recommended and instead took the health-conscious (and easy) option of a taxi. More friendly Bolivian customer service ensued when the taxi driver randomly stopped on a road which wasn’t the one the hostel was on, told us there was too much traffic there, and gave us directions to get there on foot, which was nice. Still we find the place without many problems, or altitude issues and I walked in to find a group of people I had hung around with on both sides of the Iguazu Falls, though they were just killing time before departing later in the evening.

After catching up with them I made the tough journey up four flights of stairs to my dorm, I say tough because my automatic instinct to run up stairs kicked in, and by the time I reached the top I was absolutely knackered and grasping for air. I made a mental note to myself not to do that again, but in the three nights I was there I don’t think I remembered my self instruction once.

How I managed to spend three nights in Potosi is anybody’s guess, maybe I just couldn’t face another Bolivian bus ride so soon or maybe I’m just a lazy so and so, but three nights I did – and I didn’t even “do” the main attraction in Potosi, that being the silver mines. On my first night in the hostel I watched a DVD about the conditions in the mine and the story of a 14 year old boy who worked in them. Without explaining the whole story and without going off into social commentary like I did when discussing Rio and the Favela Tours I decided against visiting the mines for a couple of reasons – one being the fact that I see it as exploiting people who work in terrible conditions and have a whole host of associated health problems and low life expectancy, and two being I had no desire to be exposed to dangerous levels of Asbestos (for however short a time) after seeing the health problems this has brought to my Grandad, and others. I found the DVD eye-opening and horrific enough and didn’t really feel the need to experience those conditions myself.

Potosi has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Zone, but in my time there I really struggled to see why. There are a few buildings of interest, the omni-present churches and cathedral, and the royal mint, but nothing that really stood out to my mind. As a resident of another UNESCO World Heritage City my standards are obviously very very high! The place seemed a little sketchy to me, with kids seemingly always hovering around your pockets in the crowded streets, and two people at my hostel had problems with theft, which was something I hadn’t encountered in South America so far. In what was becoming a recurring them in Bolivia the people seemed unfriendly in many cases, and the customer service was at it’s usual dreadful level. On my last night in the city a group of six of us went to a restaurant for dinner, three of the group had 2 ｽ hours before catching an overnight bus to La Paz and concerns started to be raised when, five minutes after placing our orders, a child emerged running from the kitchen – coming back a few minutes later with cans of tuna which were likely to be the toppings for those of us who had ordered tuna pizza’s! 2 hours after ordering the three with a bus to catch had to give up on a pre-bus meal, though they didn’t win the ensuing argument and still paid for their food. Though, as one of the three who subsequently benefited from an extra pizza I wasn’t complaining about it too much.

Another example of the excellent standard of customer service came when I bought a ticket to a mirador which supposedly offered “stunning” views over the city, especially at sunset, from the tourist office – only to find that the mirador was closed each and every time I tried to visit it, even within the opening hours stated on the back of my ticket. I have to say I was beginning to form a dim view of much of the country, which had me a little concerned as my next stop was due to be Sucre, where I was planning on spending a week or two taking Spanish lessons. On my fourth morning in Potosi I left for the bus station with a Finnish girl slightly worried about what might lie ahead….

August 12, 2009

As the bus drove away from Uyuni, I looked behind to watch the distance between me and the salt flat grow larger until it disappeared from view. I turned forward to an unknown adventure. I’d slept on my decision, and knew I’d made the right choice to leave the Salar de Uyuni tour behind. Independent travel should be just that—independent. People looked at me as though I’d left India without seeing the Taj Mahal. But feeling unchained from what I’d told myself and what others told me I had to do was extraordinarily freeing. I’d also found that I could bypass Potosi, another backpacker hot spot, and head straight to Sucre that day for 20 Bolivianos (about $2.75) more. It would be a long day of driving, but worth it to go directly where I wanted to go.

We drove through miles of uninhabited Altiplano. Every so often, we passed through a tiny village or saw one in the distance. This journey was one of many on my trip that left me contemplating the complexities of fate. People born in those remote villages would most likely die there. They would probably spend their whole lives negotiating the harsh conditions of the cold and parched high altitude desert. And there I was, nose against the window, just passing through as I’ve done around the world.

We had two stops on the way to Potosi, one was planned and the other wasn’t. The planned one was at Bolivia’s version of a rest stop– a metal toilet with no seat, a kiosk selling nothing of nutritional value, and a “restaurant”. Besides the fact that it was housed in shacks, it wasn’t all that different from a rest stop here in the United States.

Barren desert gave way to beautiful rock formations and full rivers. We’d entered mining country. There were several detours on bumpy paths where men were working along the main road.

For almost the whole ride, our bus had been making sketchy sounds. The noise ceased, and we were brought to our second stop, the unplanned one. The driver tried to restart the bus as he’d done the entire trip, but this time, the bus was stopped for good. We all got off and the driver and co. quickly put large rocks behind the tires so the bus wouldn’t roll back down the hill we’d worked so hard to get up.

The driver and co. unsuccessfully tried to flag down buses that were driving by on a road below us. I was getting nervous about being stuck in Extremely High Altitude, Middle of Nowhere, Bolivia for a night. Finally, a fancy bus we’d seen at the rest stop climbed up the hill and parked behind us. It turned out that the problem was quite simple—we’d run out of gas.

Our drivers siphoned gas out of their tank to put in ours and voila! We were on our way again and very relieved. Once you’re outside of cities in Bolivia, gas stations are nonexistent. Whatever gas you need, you have to take with you. I think many drivers leave unprepared because they know they can borrow some from another driver if they need to. It’s infuriating that they’ll put a bus full of people in that position, but charming that they’re always willing to help each other out.

It turns out that we weren’t too far from Potosi when the bus broke down. We arrived in the early evening. A group of three French backpackers were the only other people on the bus heading on to Sucre as well. Everyone got off, and we stayed on to be driven to the Potosi bus station where we would catch another bus.

At the station, we wandered over to a Cholita selling delicious cheese empanadas. We were starving after a day without any real food. She insisted that we try some beverage in a pot. She scooped it out with a plastic cup and handed it over. I took a little sip to be polite, but wasn’t interested in chugging a mystery beverage when I had a few more hours of driving left.

It was a relief when we finally arrived in Sucre. The French trio invited me to stay at a hostel with them, so we caught a cab together to center of town. We found a hostel and settled in before heading to dinner. After our late meal, we called it a night. It had been a long day. But I felt happy in Sucre. Even in the dark, I sensed that I would love the energy of the city. I couldn’t wait to roam its cobblestoned streets the next day.

(Vía: Desventuras de la Historia)

Los guaraníes de la costa brasileña contaban que muy al occidente estaba la riquísima tierra de los caracaraes, dominio del Rey Blanco, en donde había una gran sierra de plata (no rica en plata sino maciza) ríos de oro y maravillas indecibles. Entrando por el Río de la Plata se podían cargar los barcos con metales preciosos, aún lo más grandes. Los súbditos del Rey Blanco llevaban coronas de plata en la cabeza y planchas de oro colgadas al cuello.

Muchos exploradores españoles fueron deslumbrados por las constantes noticias que daban los indios sobre la Sierra de la Plata y del imperio grandioso que se hallaba hacia el occidente ignoto, custodiado por un gran dragón invencible. A este dragón bien lo podría representar la impenetrable selva del gran Chaco, y como veremos mas adelante fue finalmente vencido.

Su origen

Los incas irradiaron esplendor y riqueza por toda América del Sur; en tiempos anteriores a la conquista española.

Los guaraníes realizaron grandes emigraciones hacia las tierras incaicas del Perú con ánimo de conquista, pero fueron expulsados. Algunos, en su regreso, se establecieron en el gran Chaco y en las tierras paraguayas. Ya en las costas del Brasil, se encargaron de divulgar la fama de la Sierra de la Plata, de las ricas minas de Charcas. La noticia era cierta, pero deformada por el reflejo incaico, y mal calculada en su distancia del cerro Saigpurum, luego descubierto y llamado Potosí por los españoles.

Primera búsqueda

Corría el año 1516, y tres naves volvían a España por el río Paraná Guazú tras haber descubierto este inmenso río al que Juan Díaz de Solís llamó Mar Dulce. Los huesos del gran Capitán quedaron junto con los de varios compañeros en esas playas, luego de una matanza seguida de un ritual antropofágico de la cual sólo se salvó, de todo el grupo de desembarco, el grumete Francisco del Puerto. Luego, la pequeña flota pasó, sin su Almirante, junto a la isla Yurúminrín que más tarde Sebastian Caboto bautizaría con el nombre de Santa Catalina, en la costa del Brasil. Una de las carabelas, retrasada, naufragó en el Puerto de los Patos, la costa frente a la isla; quedaron ahí abandona-dos dieciocho tripulantes.

Estos náufragos se enteraron de la historia de la Sierra de la Plata. Uno de ellos, Alejo García, decidió realizar una expedición en su busca. Hay que aclarar que estos españoles eran náufragos en tierra indígena, y que estaban a casi dos mil kilómetros de Potosí. El audaz Alejo García, con cuatro de sus compañeros, logró alistar a varios cien-tos de guaraníes, algo que no le costó mucho, ya que éstos realizaban migraciones cada determinada cantidad de años hacia esa zona. La expedición cruzó las extensas selvas brasileñas y logró llegar a las sierras de Potosí, la ansiada Sierra de la Plata. Corrieron muchos peligros y guerrearon contra numerosos indígenas a su paso. Cuando García volvía de esta arriesgada expedición, cargado de oro y de plata, fue atacado y muerto por indígenas, y su expedición deshecha. Sólo algunos guaraníes y un hijo (americano) de García lograron regresar al Puerto de los Patos, donde estaban los demás náufragos a quienes les contaron las maravillosas historias sobre las inmensas riquezas y la muerte de sus compatriotas, que luego recorrerían la costa brasileña. Se cree que esta expedición ocurrió no mucho antes de la llegada de Caboto al Río de la Plata, hacia 1525.

La codicia

Las noticias de la Sierra de la Plata corrían por toda la costa del Brasil, desde Pernambuco hasta el Río de la Plata, el cual obtiene su nombre por ser la vía más rápida hacia la famosa sierra, y no porque hubiera plata en sus costas. Estas noticias habían llegado a España en las naves de Solís; del portugués Cristóbal Jacques, que se encontró con el grumete Francisco del Puerto (sobreviviente de la matanza de Solís) en el Río de la Plata; de Rodrigo de Acuña; y de aquel castellano que en 1521 habló con nueve náufragos de Santa Catalina y subió por el Río de la Plata un buen trecho. Estas buenas nuevas y los rumores sobre el imperio incaico se habían extendido por la costa brasileña hasta la boca del inmenso río de Solís. Y habían llegado hasta España “clavándose como una obsesión en la mente de Sebastián Caboto”.

Caboto firma con el rey de España una capitulación para ir a las islas Molucas (en el sudeste asiático). Llegó a la costa del Brasil el 3 de junio de 1526; fondeó en Pernambuco, una factoría portuguesa. Durante su larga estancia allí, Caboto decidió, si no lo había hecho en España, explorar el río descubierto por Solís. Había obtenido bastante información sobre la existencia de grandes cantidades de metales preciosos.  Anoticiado de la existencia de los náufragos de Solís, los recoge en su camino al Río de la Plata. Sólo quedaban dos, Enrique Montes y Melchor Ramírez, los cuales exageraron sobremanera las riquezas que existían en la zona del Plata.

¿Un río con plata?

En el Río de la Plata sólo encontraron hambre y desastres. Con las mismas “riquezas” se encontró Diego García de Moguer (ex-integrante de la expedición de Solís), quien al igual que Caboto, había conseguido la capitulación para ir a las Molucas, y la violaba igual que aquel, para explorar el Río de la Plata atraído por las riquezas de la famosa sierra. Caboto y García regresaron a España sin poder encontrar nada, sólo llevaron consigo más leyendas que atraerían a más españoles al Río de la Plata.

Todas las noticias que llegaban del Perú y de la todavía esquiva Sierra de la Plata, prepararon la armada de don Pedro de Mendoza, la cual se hizo a la vela con más de dos mil hombres para defender la Raya de Tordesillas contra los avances de los portugueses, que por el Brasil pretendían alcanzar las minas peruanas.

El final de la leyenda

Mucho fue el hambre que se pasó luego de la fundación de Buenos Aires en 1536, como veremos más adelante. Juan de Ayolas, decidido a llegar a la Sierra de la Plata, se lanzó aguas arriba del Paraná. Poco más tarde salió Juan de Salazar de Espinoza llevando una ayuda que no pudo llegar a tiempo.

Desde el alto Paraguay, Ayolas cruzó el Chaco, dejando en un puerto a Martínez de Irala con treinta y tres hombres. Luego de muchos contratiempos llegó a las minas de Charcas y, al igual que Alejo García años antes, cargó todo el oro y plata que pudo. Sus hombres estaban muy debilitados y eran pocos; esto decidió a los indígenas que los acompañaban a sublevarse y matarlos a palos estando muy cerca de la meta, como revelarían algunos “indios amigos”.

Mientras Salazar fundaba la actual Asunción del Paraguay, Irala llegaba hasta las mismas puertas del Perú, descubría que hacía tiempo que otros españoles dominaban esas tierras. El mito de la Sierra de la Plata se diluía en el olvido.

Para saber más:

Domínguez, Manuel. El alma de la raza.

Fernández de Castillejo, Federico. La ilusión de la conquista. Atalaya. Buenos Aires, 1945.

Fitte, Ernesto J. Hambre y desnudeces en la conquista del Río de la Plata. Academia Nacional de la Historia. Buenos Aires, 1980.

Gandía, Enrique de. Historia crítica de los mitos de la conquista de América.

Rubio, Julián María. Exploración y conquista del Río de la Plata : siglos XVI y XVII. Salvat, 1953.

Thomas, Shelia and their daughters: Hannah, Hailey and Heather Hinman (the triple H’s)  from Hazel Green, WI came in the other day to upgrade to a more spacious vehicle. While the girls played, the parents took care of business.  Soon they were ready to roll out with their new set of wheels,  but I couldn’t let them go without letting the world hear their story!

Hey guys! Thanks for waiting up to do an interview with me. What brought you into Runde’s today?
We needed a car that would fit our family and wanted to stay local for the purchase.

What led you to Runde’s instead of a different dealership?
Shelia: I’ve lived around this area my whole life and know Runde’s to be a good place by reputation.

What vehicle did you end up buying?
We got a 2008 Chevy Impala. We needed a family car and it’ll work out great.

Your sales person was Al Kloft, what did you think of Al ?
He was great, very helpful and nice to the kids.

I see that they got some goodies to play with while they waited.
Yeah, Heather loved playing with the stuff. They gave us monkey’s, footballs, coloring books, coffee mugs, free hot chocolate…

Hailey: I want some hot chocolate tonight!
That sounds really good, actually…

If you were to rank your experience on a scale of 1-10, what would you give it?
Probably about a 9.

You guys ready for Christmas?
All three: Oh yeah!

Got your Christmas list all done?
Hailey: I haven’t done that yet!

Tom: I’m heading back to Iraq and won’t be back ‘till January so I guess I’ll be missing it this year.

Hannah: We’ll have to have grandma help us with the Christmas tree…

What do you like to do as a family?
The girls and I have been hunting for the last week. We like camping, playing ball, going to water parks.

Where do you go camping?
Just in the area. Galena, Potosi, Blackhawk, Governor Dodge Park –places like that.

Are all of you in school?
All three: Yep!

Where do you all go?
Shelia: Hannah is still in preschool.
Hailey: 3rd grade!
Heather: 5th grade at the Southwestern Elementary School.

You like going to school?
Hailey: Sure do!

Tom and Shelia, what do you do for a living?
I work at Cuttingham and Butler and she works at B.L. Murray just down the road from here.

Hailey: I work at school!

Do you have a favorite movie Hannah?
Yeah… High School Musical (Hannah gave a big smile with her answer).

That’s all I had for you guys, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer, do you have anything else you’d like to add?
Shelia: It was a great experience. I don’t like buying cars, it gives me a headache, but this was a good experience.

06.November:
We got picked up at the hostel at 9am. It was time to dig for that shiny metal in the mines of the the highest city in the world – Potosí! Potosí is located 4,090 m above sea level. But first off we had to get dressed for entering the mines with a helmet, head lamp, pants, jacket and sturdy boots. Then it was time to buy the miners some gifts. We bought dynamite, fuses, explosive powder, coca leaves, chewing tobacco, juice, and 96% alcohol on plastic bottles.

some of the gifts for the miners

lots of dynamite gifts for the miners

We drove up to the mines at Cerro Rico (rich mountain), peaking at 4,824 m, in a shuttle bus. Inside Cerro Rico there are 90 km of tunnels! They have been mining in the tunnels within this mountain since 1462, but during the colonial times the Spanish took almost all the silver (7000 tons). Now they are mining tinn and zink.

Cerro Rico

At the start of the trip we had two guides who were former miners, but before entering the mines we split into two groups. The large group being lead by the 45 year old strict Julio with a slight ADHD tendency, while the small group (Kris, MAry, me and an Engish girl Itiou) was under the supervision of the 25 year old guide David.

We entered the mines through Santa Rita – one of the main entrances to the mines. We went down 130m into the mines! However, the mines continued about 800m beneath ground level!

a hard days work at the mines

some miners at the Santa Rita entrance

somewhere deep inside the mines

During our trip in the mining tunnels, we visited mining areas of three different companies; Santa Rita, Pailaviri and Bolivar. While walking around in the mines we quite often heard loud bangs from dynamites going off somewhere inside the mines. After visiting Santa Rita and Pailaviri (that is after about two hours) we met a couple of guys sitting in a little shed dedicated to Tio Benito drinking what they called Bolivian whiskey – orange juice and 96% alcohol. They explained that they were sitting in there along with some sculpture portraying Tio (the devil) in order to sacrifice to him hoping that he would grace them with better mineral findings within the mines. For every drink, they poured some on the ground or on the Tio figurine as a sacrifice for good luck. It was common to believe in Tio within the mines, but he was never praised outside. On the outside they turned to the god of heaven. To them the heavinly god, Tio and the god of the earth – the Patchamama, were all very important.

After leaving these guys, we went further down the mines. All the time we had to keep our heads low and be careful not to touch or come near a metal wire going along the roof of the mine. This wire had a diameter of about 1 cm and was leading electricity. The miners used a metal handle to connect to the wiregav them extra power to move the carts filled with stone and dust through the mines on small rails (kind of like a “trikk”). This contraption also remineded me of the Norwegian show “Hugo’s hule” and I felt a sudden urge to jump into one of those carts Back to reality; We were told that if we came near this wire with one of our hands or touched it with some other body part covered with skin, we would be electrified and die! Obviously HMS was not prime focus in this mine and a lot of accidents had happended in the past. So, we had to move very carefully and most of the time I had to crouch a bit while walking as a I were more than a head taller than the average Bolivian man.

After walking for quite a while, we came to a massive room where we met Felix – a fat guy with probably the easiest job in the whole mine. All he had to do was to operate a couple of sticks inside a small house to control an elevator for transporting people according to some traffic lights and morse signals indicating the floor he should send the elecvator off to. Additionally, he only worked seven hours a day, compared to the other workers that often worked 12-, 16- or in some cases 24 hour shifts! His easy job might be defended by the fact that he was 54 years old, which is eight years lower than the average life expectancy for men in Bolivia. However, Felix looked much younger and ore healthier than most of the miners we met during our trip in the mines.

At this point we hd given away our dynamites and the juice we brought as gifts. Butwe still had lots left. I gave away my last dynamite fuse, and we handed over a bag of coca leaves to Felix who instantly came in a good mood. We also had some alcohol to give away and David started mixing in a juice bottle. We were told that it was respectless to refuse to frink with the miners and that since we were only in there for a 3-4 hours, while they were in here almost all the time everyday, we had to go by their rules, which was fine by us. David cut of a bit of a plastic bottle and this served as a our cup. We then had a glass each as the bottle was passed around. For each time it was your time to drink, you had to pour some out as a sacrifice to Tio and then say Salud out loud and be sure to look everyone around the table in the eyes before taking the whole drink in one sip. After a couple of rounds, David was getting a bit tipsy. We gave them some more coca leaves and joked around for a while. By this time the bottle was almost empty and I mixed a new and stronger bottle while David was paying close attention to my bartender skills. We went for some new rounds and Felix was especially happy with my new mix. It seemed that we as sturdy Norwegians who were used to party a lot over the years handled the alcohol a bit better than the local miners and certainly our guide David who was getting more than just tipsy! We had heaps of fun and talked about all kinds of stuff while David kept flirting with the English girl in our group hehe. Then we realised that we were on overtime and we started walking back.

David is getting more than just Tipsy

On the way back we met guys in the shed who were hanging out with the Tio Benito figurine. At this point they were pretty wasted and really happy to see us again. We then decided to give the rest of our gifts – one big bag of coca leafs, explosive powder (maybe not so smart afterall) and the rest of our alcohol. David had also brought the rest of the alcohol mix I made sp there was quite a little party in the shed. More miners came by and I started handing ot coca leaves to every miner I saw from my bag. They were really grateful and now were a great bunch of guys next to the Tio shed. We took heaps of photos and some group shots after half the guys left as they were too many to fit into the picture.

the miner gang outside the Tio Benito shed

We aid goodbye to all the workers and shaked the hands of the guys in the shed about five times. They were so happy. The whole shed was full of gifts and they were left with heaps of alcohol hehe. We then started heading for the free air once again. At this point our guide David couldn’t walk straight anymore. It was quite a sight seeing him waiving from side to side while trying to look after us and leading the way through the mines.

After spending about 3.5-4 hours down in the mines we saw daylight again. I have to admit that I actually thought it was great in the mines. Very cosy actually. In a way I almost felt at home. If it wasn’t for the fact that just breathing the dusty asbest air down there could congest your lungs in no time and make you develop asthma, or the extreme danger of being electrified, hit by a mine cart or by rocks falling from the walls or the roof, I could actually have worked there;) maybe a future career, if everything goes down the drain, who knows…

We were now outside the mines and it was dynamite time! As a keen bomb enthusiast I was excited as hell Normally they only used about one fourth of a dynamite to demonstrate for the tourists, but as David (our awesome guide) was a tipsy we were now using the entire dynamite stick. He broke it into three pieces to concentrate the blow power even more and jammed the fuse into it. He immediately put it on fire, which came as a bit of a shock to us as we were standing 1 meter from him filming the whole thing. We then realised that the fuse was burning rather slowly and realised that it wouldn’t go off any minute. We then started playing aroujnd with the dynamite while the fuse was on fire. I put into my mouth and we passed it around. The fuse started to get smaller and David took over, and went some 30 meters away to bury it under a pile of rocks. About 10 seconds later it went off with a great bang and lots of smoke while small rocks and dust came raining down over our heads. It was awesome and best of all, we got the whole thing on tape!

playing around with a lit dynamite

All in all, I can mos def recommend the trip through the mines as it was truly unique, heaps of fun and lasted for a very long time, thus giving you lots of bang for the buck especially considering the redicuously low price of 80 bolivianos (64NOK)

nothing heard, nothing seen, nothing bad said avout the mines in Cerro Rico

after a long hard day in the mines

por los siglos de los siglos…

LA PAZ (AP) – Japón donó el miércoles unos 14 millones de dólares que serán destinados para garantizar proyectos de agua potable en zonas rurales al sur de Bolivia.

El embajador del Japón en Bolivia, Kazuo Tanaka junto con el canciller David Choquehuanca suscribieron en un acto público el acuerdo de donación.

Un comunicado de la Cancillería indicó que el dinero servirá para construir una nueva planta de tratamiento de agua y rehabilitar las condiciones de las instalaciones de toma y conducción para abastecer de agua potable a la región sureña de Potosí a unos 420 kilómetros de La Paz.

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Japón dona a Bolivia 14 millones de dólares para agua potable