Being inside of a Mountain isn´t Fun!

So I was in Potosi Yesterday, got there the day before. I had already heard all sorts of exciting stories about the famous Mine they have there. I´d heard there was accidents occasionally, but that was mostly due to the dynamite being used, which wasn´t allowed generally in the times where tourist go through it. I also heard of the risk that there MIGHT be some TRACES of asbesdos, but you can buy a mask at the market if you´re really worried about it. So I was looking for a supermercado (supermarket) the day before, and asked for dirrections from a boy inside a tourist information booth (ie; place that sells there own tours), while in there I enquired about the price for the mining tour, he first said 80Bs, where I asked for cheaper he went straight to 60Bs, he was a nice kid, a genuinely nice kid, and he clearly didn´t know the art of bargaining down a price toughly. So I decided, F*** it, I´ll do, everyone does, that´s the main reason for coming here really, not for my reason of breaking up the journey to Sucre from Uyuni. I booked for the 9am tour the following day. After booking it, I met loads of people who had done it and said they loved it, and only a couple that thought they wouldn´t take the risk... The risk, how risky could it be? Hundreds of people do it everyday, and companies all over town advertise it as the best thing to do in Bolivia. I woke up early the next day, mostly due to the freezing cold that the weather turns at this altitude (4060 metres) during the night, and possibly from a little bit of nervous belly. My partner always says I worry about things if I hear bad things about it, yet would never worry if I did anything with my `ignorant bliss´ on. I packed my things, had a coffee, breakfast was Pan (bread) so I couldn´t have it; still on the strict carb reduced diet. Walked down to the agency where I was to be picked up, and noone was there. All signs had disappeared and nothing around me now looked the same. It was 8.52am, I´ll give them another 18minutes, then I´m putting it down to a`not to be´ situation. At exactly 9.09am a little Bolivian woman came running, well scuffling down the street, yelling out apologies in Spanish, she then walked me with not a single word except for ¨Vamos¨(lets go) almost half way across the city, and down a tiny alleyway to a place where a group had already formed of other worldly tourists of all different ages and nationalities. This is the place where our guide (one guide, nine of us) got us to put on wet weather pants (mine were a little on the snug side), rain coats, find gumboots that fit (wellies for the poms again), put on hardhats and get our helmet torch fitted with the around the waist belt battery pack. We all looked so darn attractive... Then into the minibus, where we stop at a highly priced; to Bolivian standards, market where we had to buy at least one or two presents to give to the miners once we´re two kilometres deap inside the Mountain. I heard that the dynamite is extremely bad for the enviroment, plus the most expensive so I didn´t get that, also the cigarettes were the cheapest, but I didn´t want to be responsible for further life threatening lung problems to the miners, so I opted for the 2litre bottle of soft drink and a bag of cocoa leaves. I also bought 3 cheapo masks, to wear 2 at a time, and swap over to the 3rd if and when the first lot gets too dirty, I am clearly the most paranoid, as most the other of the group don´t bother at all, but some buy one, or decide that their scarf might be enough. This is also where I heard the funniest bargain I´d got all day; one soft drink is 5Bs, and one bag of leaves is 5Bs, but the lady will sell them to you together if you like, both for 10Bolivianos... Wow, 2 for 10Bs OR 2 for 10Bs!! We all jumped back in the bus to head for the mountain. At the entry point we were told that it will be cold at the beginning then get hotter once we´re further inside, we also had to hide our presents until we got in far enough that the miners would deserve our gifts. Torches on, then an order sortted out, I was to go first out of the tourists, directly behind the guide which was okay with me, where he put me, later to discover this was his way of finding out if I had a boyfriend or not, and if I was travelling alone why not try a nice Bolivian man... Him perhaps?? At the gate, which we all noted was locked and had to be opened by a girl that the guide first had to find, and then she waits until we all get inside and locks it again, my heart is already getting higher up my chest. What, its locked, we´re actually getting locked into the Mine? ¨Don´t worry... hahaha¨ that was pretty much the guides favourite line. The mine was tight, and very small, I had to walk completely crouched down to about a metre in height for a good part of it. We then had to crawl ¨like babies¨ which was okay, I was expecting that much, then a few standing upright spots where we could all cram together allowing the odd miner to pass on his way to the centre, and we could hear of stories of the past, the silver industry in the 15th Century, and the very weird papermache statue of the Devil with a huge penis, and why he is the God of the Mountain. That was really creepy, we had to throw 96% alcohol over him and his penis, and light a cigarette and put it in his already burnt out mouth. The grosses part was the smell, when someone questioned it, the guide pointed out the Llama foetus that was put there at carnaval. It was so dirty and rubbish was everywhere at this particular location, also our guide had a few good sized mouthfuls of the 96% that made me feel really assured. He was also stuffing the side of his face with the cocoa leaves that were bought as one of the gifts; I would like to note that nothing is more unattractive than a face that looks like you have a whole grapefruit stuffed down one side, oh and the spitting of the leaves excess juices... hmmm hot!! So back on our way, oh thats pretty we all say, look at the silvery glitter, lets all touch it like we have been encouraged to do the whole way until now, so we do, to have the guide say, ¨Oh don´t touch that, its asbestos!¨ HOLEY SHIT, WHAT?? I´ve just had my hands in asbestos, FUCK FUCK FUCK... Where is my water? I pore water all over my hands and pray to God that 10-15 years down the track I don´t regret this day with all my might. I thought there was only traces, now that he shows it to us, I ask is that asbestos, ¨Yes, that is and that over there, oh and through here, and that pretty white is also asbestos¨ I hate him for letting me in here, and its too late to go back, I say I´m scared and want to leave, but I´m the in the minority, so its not possible. I feel my heart pound harder and harder, and every breath is becoming harder to take, with the marks, the dust, the crouched over walking, the altitude (we´re up another coupla 100 metres) and the lack of oxygen as it is in here. We do one more crawl through an even smaller tunnel, doing the army on the belly-crawl over sharp rocks that look an awful lot like those that were asbestos. I decide not to ask anymore, whatever damage has been done is done, and with no way of leaving the group, and no desire to be by myself in this dark and scary tightly enclosed place, I know that all I have is this flimsy mark that I´ve doubled up with, and the hope that I am one of the lucky ones that doesn´t get sick from exposure in years to come. We are nearing our 2 kilometre final destination before turning back, when we see Men hauling full train/carts of minerals and rocks, four of them are needed with all of there bodyweight and strenght to control and move the carts. The guide then screams ¨RUN RUN RUN, GET OUT OF THE WAY... OVER THERE... JUMP JUMP JUMP¨ Everyone then scrambled to a small cut out in the walls where even the four oldies of the group had the shit kicked into them with the scare of one of the carts flying past us, with two miners running for their lives in front of it, and two behind trying in vain to slow the train down. It´s here that the guide tells us we need to be careful, that the carts weigh 2 tonnes, and thats the main cause of accidental deaths down here. What? Why are you only just talking about deaths now?? Sitting in out extremely tight group in the cut out of the wall we need to sit here a little while longer while the miners get there carts all sortted out and where they want them, occasionally pulling one into our little space to make way for another cart going the other way. This is so friggen scary, I can´t see me wanting to leave this dusty little space in the wall to get back in the path of the carts again. I hate it down here, please God or whomever you are that looks after me, please give me strength to get out of here, please get everyone in this Mountain right now out safe and to their families or respective Hotels and Hostals? Please please please!! We have to get out of the way now, and one of the miners asks if anyone has a gift of a drink, I quickly get mine out, I respect these crazy guys a whole lot more, but cant work out how anything can be possibly worth this danger everyday? The man is grateful and continues with his three amigos to push a cart up the slope, the slope that already made a cart fly past me, that could trample him if they arent all putting in every ounce of their brute force. Retelling this story is again making my stomach churn and yucky... I still don´t understand why any amount of money could be worth this, but then again I was born in one of the few lucky countries where I won´t starve to death, where I can house my family if I had one, get an education to better my chances to up my station, get top health care and medicines, and have systems in place like workers safety. Why was I born so friggen lucky? And why weren´t they? It´s so unfair! It just doesn´t make any friggen sense!! I hate this mine, I hate every fucking inch of it, I am struggling with the grief of finding out that most miners do only have 10 years of hard labour ahead of them before they die from cronic lung conditions, and that most miners start at 15 or 16 years old. My heart hurts just thinking about it, they smile at me as I walk by, two take my hand in the darkness to shake it and say ¨buenos tardes¨ (good afternoon). I hate this place! So we get up from our little safe place of watching the agony of hard labour infront of our headtorches, and make our way to the final place where our group will visit. I ask why we haven´t seen any other group for the last leg, to be told that the groups all go to different places once past the only entry and exit tunnel. We are now giving all the gifts we have left to the group of digging and cart pushing miners in this location, where we all take a few snaps then get told of the electric shaft lifty thing that is here. I have noticed this whole trek that the walls and ceiling of the tunnels are dodgy, and mostly held up with just wooden posts that are sometimes breaking, and we have to get around the pipes that contain compressed air, but in someplaces they look like they´re holding the place up too, with the help of some cleverly placed boulders/large rocks. Its now that I will never forget, my heart jumping outside of me, my throat wasn´t even high enough. As the guide was getting us all to inspect the digging, and as he now talks about the electric lift to the surface, I stayed back a little, not liking being ontop of the miners while they work, and enjoying the space away from the carts pushing past, when we hear a terrible noise. A really loud rumbling, the guide says not to worry its just a small rope being dropped. Small? Yeah, about 50metres of rope... CRASH!! ... SHIT THATS NO ROPE!!!! The loudest rumbling I´ve ever heard, and the walks and ground starts to shake, I´m close to the back, so we all start to RUN out of the way, boulders and smaller rocks are coming down all around us, and I hear a loud groin, or maybe I just heard more earth moving noises, but I do hear paniked voices in another language, but its now too dusty to see. We run until we can see and not feel anymore movement, I yell IS EVERYONE OK? DID EVERYONE GET OUT? The guide counts everyone, and I ask him if all the miners are okay? I think he just pretended to check, returning to say everyone was OK. We then start our very quiet trek back, taking a shortcut thankfully, but having to crawl literally over the top of miners working in the worse and tightest conditions imaginable, to see the light of the tunnel exit (and only entry) after about 30 minutes instead of another 2 hours. It´s here that the guide stops us to tell us of even more enlightening information. He explains how much (or should I say how little) they get paid, and I want to cry right here and now... I cant imagine working like this just to be on a slightly better off than the minum wage here, which is about 400Bs a month, about $80. The draw is, if you´ve done it a few years you could live long enough to get to where the really good and expensive minerals are, and be on a pretty good wage by then, you just are not allowed to die within the first ten years, thats the catch you see, because not many do! Once we are out, I feel physically ill, I want nothing more than to get out of these disguising clothes, and tourist costume, so I strip them off right there. I am wearing my clothes underneath, but I even choose to take the boots off and walk back to the bus barefooted than wear these asbestos covered clothes any longer. One lady decides she wants to walk back, so the guide takes her things from her, she came prepared with all her things in the minibus, and we leave her there, as we venture back, some people excited by our close call, me very quiet, no I was completely silent the whole way, and a little while longer still. I went back to where I´d already checked out, paid a larger than probably normal amount to have a shower and to get cleaned up and changed out of these dirty clothes. Afterwards taking a walk to bump into the lady that walked back, she said just after we left a guernsy (not sure of spelling, but one of the people held beds for emergencies) was getting rushed in to the entry tunnel by some fast moving fellow miners. She said she waited for about 20 minutes, and a Man came out on it, his leg was badly broken and what she called smashed, her opinion was that he would become an amputee from the thigh for certain, there was blood everywhere from the breaks in his leg, and he just simply had his arm over his face, he made no sounds of his pain. The scary part is, he was the miner we had all just taken pictures of before the rocks started coming down. She managed to find out that it was the same incident by one of the other miners present. She also managed to find out why it happened. The electric lift was dropped, by the ropes becoming too slack, I guess that was the reason for the loud thump during the crazy rumbling. That poor man... and his family, they don´t get any insurance, I pray he´s okay!! Luckily noone died, I suppose... this time!!