Potosi, The Silver City

It was a short 100 mile hop from Sucre to Potosi. A familiar pattern, the road climbed and crossed the highplains, pleasant but unremarkable except for a very wide river valley of red sand and gravel that was being actively extracted. The valley was crossed by a foot bridge with a very elaborate buttress that was out of character with the area. I would dearly like to know the story behind it.

A rail line followed the road for many miles and in places the embankment had been washed away, it looked abandoned. So I was surprised to round a bend and see a motorail car with 3 men, pickaxes in hand, working on the line. The line looked no more in use after the work area than before. Make work?

Potosi exists for one reason and one reason only, silver and other minerals within Cerro Rico, a mountain that dominates the town physically and economically. It is a working town that greets the visitor with the largest gateway I have seen to date.

The Spaniards discovered silver in Cerro Rico in 1545, it has been mined ever since. The importance Spain attached to the town and the wealth accumulated is reflected in a well preserved center with impressive buildings that is crisscrossed with narrow paved streets. My hostel is in an antique courtyard home, tucked next to the cathedral.

But it is silver mining that remains the heartbeat of Potosi. One hundred mines still remove ore from the heart of Cerro Rico, employing 15,000 men directly and thousands more in the economic activity it generates. The mines are organized as co-operatives, each man essentially self employed. Several of the co-operatives offer tours of the working mines, an experience not to be missed.

After getting kitted up the first stop was the mine store, I had never seen dynamite before let alone a stick that was fused.

Then off to the mine head, drifted into the side of the mountain with galleries above and below the entrance level. The mine guard dogs demanded their tribute on the way in. Shortly after entering the mine a 2 ton cart of ore came hurtling along the tracks pushed by 2 men. A shallow recess provided a safe place to let it pass.

Two hours were spent underground; it was the most intense and at times frightening experience. Climbing 25ft ladders with missing rungs over an 80ft deep shaft, walking on a single rail, hands braced against the rock faces, a 10 foot fall awaiting the unwary, belly crawling through squeezes to access caverns where the vein of silver led the miners and where ore is removed to this day.  

 I was pleased to resurface and head back to town.

The center is lit up at night, making for a picturesque city setting that belies the conditions under which many of her citizens labor.

The journey continues Monday, 130 miles southwest to Uyuni.

T2.