The Salar tour ended in Uyuni where we immediately got on a night bus to Potosi, even though we were very, very tired. We arrived in Potosi at 1:30am after six hours of bone rattling ride with blasting music and screaming Frenchies. Damn, they can be loud those French people (says Miko).
Potosi is the highest city in the world, at the elevation of 4070 meters. Walking around was a real challenge :) like grandpa and grandma stopping every few meters to catch our breath. Potosi is built on hills with narrow streets. Some houses have wooden balconies and it all reminded us a lot of Sarajevo. Except that it's more colorful.The main attraction in Potosi are the mines. The silver was discovered here in 1545 and for the following 300 years, the Spanish exploited the mines until all of the pure silver was gone. They used indigenous people for work in the mines, and when that was not enough, they brought slaves from Africa. People were working in horrible conditions and about 8 million died during those 300 years. That's about 2,6 million per 100 years, and 26,000 per year. The population reached 200,000 in the 17th century, making it the largest city in the world at that time. Beginning of the 19th century, the silver ran out and the population dropped to 10,000.
On our second day in Potosi, we took a tour to visit the mines which are still operating. They dressed us in protective clothes, boots, helmets and lamps. Our guide was a woman whose father was a miner and died few years ago.
We have read and heard from people that the visit is difficult and dangerous. You walk underground for about 2km and are exposed to some toxic chemicals and gases, including silica dust. It was physically very challenging, walking through the tunnels with very low ceilings, in mud and water sometimes. It was chilly at the entrance, but then the temperature started rising as we were going deeper, finally to reach 115F (about 40 C) at the lowest levels. Sometimes we had to crawl through narrow shafts to get to the area where the miners were working. The conditions in which these people work are incredibly hard. We were speechless.
The mines are cooperative, owned by the miners themselves, but they must produce to make their living. All work is done by hand, with primitive tools and explosives that they have to purchase themselves. The miners usually die of silicosis pneumonia within 10 to 15 years of entering the mines.
Few men we talked to have already been doing this for 15 years and we even saw a young boy who couldn't be more than 15 years old. Unimaginable, the awful conditions these people work in. We were there for only 2 hours and could not wait to get out.
Before visiting the mines we bought presents for the miners: soda, a bag of coca leaves, cigarettes (miners expected these gifts upon visit). Some tourists also bought dynamite (one stick costs half the miner's daily salary). Initially we were interested in witnessing a dynamite explosion thinking it was going to be a part of the working process. Sadly, the only purpose of buying dynamite was to use it in a stupid side show for tourists: exploding it randomly on some hill. Some people in our group were very excited to see an explosion and they bought too much dynamite (one explosion allowed per group). After Hana asked them what are they going to do with the remaining dynamite, hoping they would give it to the miners, but the girl answered: "Ehhh..... I don't know.... blow something up." We felt ashamed. We were here to visit mines where people kill themselves working in horrible conditions and these idiots where behaving like they were visiting an attraction park.
We liked Potosi but it was very, very cold and we overstayed by one night. While there we enjoyed people watching on the main plaza and eating at the "comedor" in the local market. On our last day we visited "La Casa de Moneda" (the Money Museum). In this building, for 200 years Bolivia was producing money for the entire world, and now the world produces money for Bolivia (Spain makes their coins, and France prints the bills on a very thick paper which is hard to fold and hide in our belts ;).
SUCRE
The bus ride from Potosi to Sucre reminded us of India, more people than seats, bumpy and uncomfortable. There was music blasting from cell phones, and a salesman talking non-stop for over an hour trying to sell his product.Our stay in Sucre did not start well for Hana. She arrived at the bus station with a bag full of her puke. After we have found a nice room, she went straight to bed and did not get up until the next morning.
Sucre is a very pretty city, with nice colonial buildings in the center, all painted white. But after a couple of days it became boring. And unlike Potosi and Tupiza, we did not like the people here. We found them cold and snobby.
During our stay, the city of Sucre celebrated its 200 years of Independence. The main event was an all day long parade with representatives from different parts of the country, marching bands, army, firemen, female groups, even the kung fu and the aquatic clubs. Interestingly, the president of Bolivia Evo Morales, was not there. It seems that he was not invited!? Apparently people don't really like him in Sucre.
There were many smaller events happening throughout the city: more marching bands, speeches, theater plays of the revolution in the streets, and fireworks.
Being there during these events was interesting.
On a good note, we enjoyed another great viewpoint (Mirador) and eating market food with all the locals.
Miko bought a new pair of pants because his old ones had died after 9 months of travel. Hana
had already retired hers sand-boarding in Argentina. Our clothes were dying. The end was getting closer.Our first week in Bolivia was very, very, freaking awesome!
But the second week felt a little like a balloon deflating with Sucre being a bit boring and Potosi too cold. Now we were ready for some new action in La Paz and the Bolivian Amazons......
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