Ghosts of Industry: Potosi, Bolivia

Potosi is an awe-inspiring place. Cerro Rico, the phyramid-shaped mountain that looms above the city, has been mined for silver, zinc and tin for more than 400 years. During the period of Spanish conquest and colonization, Potosi was literally the center of the world--in terms of wealth creation. It is said that the ore removed from the mine during that time could have built a bridge of silver from Potosi to Madrid.

I visited Potosi a couple of weeks ago during a three-week journey with friends through Bolivia and Peru. One of the most amazing experiences on the trip was a tour of a working mine in Cerro Rico.

Here's the mountain looming over Potosi.

When the Spaniards were in control, they worked indigenous people and animals to death in the mine and in smelting plants and a coin mint. The people were exposed to noxious dust and mercury--plus the danger of cave-ins. While they were not slaves (since they were paid wages), they were prisoners. They couldn't quit or leave. In the mint, we saw spots where people had worn deep grooves in the wood plank floor with their bare feet.

After independence, the Bolivian government ran the mine for many years, but, in 1985, when the global price for tin plummeted, the government gave up the mountain. It was essentially played out from their point of view. However, the miners keep at it. They formed collectives and continued to mine. Today, there are about 200 mines in the mountain, and about 15,000 miners work there. They chew coca leaves so they can work long hours and perform intense physical labor--such as pushing metal carts carrying two tons of ore.

I toured one of mines with a group of about a dozen tourists. Here's what we saw:

Mine tour poster.

Here's the mine we visited.

Me in my mine tour outfit. It was dusty and wet in the mine.

Getting ready to go in.

It was a tight fit.

Two guys push a two-ton load out of the mine.

Jose, our tour guide.

 Jose worked in the mine for about five years, but he pulled out because of the danger to his health. The miners breath silica dust, which causes cancer. There are also a lot of accidents. The average miner, he told us, lives to be 50 years old.

A miner drills holes for dynamite charges.

They build wooden buttresses to prevent cave-ins.

Eduardo, center, one of the veteran miners, describes his job.

Tio, the god of the mine.

The Spanish used religion to control the indigenous people. They said god owned the minerals in the mine, so by removing them they were serving god. Each of the mines in Cerro Rico today has an effigy of "Tio," the god of that mine, in one of its passages. Each Friday, the miners make offerings to Tio. They bring cigarettes or cigars, light them, and put them between Tio's lips. They sprinkle alcohol and other drinks on Tio. They give him coca leaves. If you look closely at the photo you will notice that Tio had a huge erect penis. A very potent dude.

A miner rests after delivering a load of ore.

Young women sort out valuable chunks of rock.

We spent about three hours at the mine, walking in a few kilometers. I hit my helmet on the ceiling about a dozen times--but no permanent damage done.

Wall painting in Potosi.

Another.

We saw a lot of pride in the miners of Potosi. But their situation also represents the duality that's so prominent in traditional Andean religion. The mountain is the source of their livelihoods; yet it also kills them. Like their ancestors during the Spanish conquest, there seems to be no way out.