Perú/Bolivia - Part XIII (Cerro Rico)

Legend has it, that the Spanish took so much silver out of mountains like this one that they could have built a silver bridge back to Spain. You only have to step in one church or cathedral in Spain and see that there might be some truth to that.
We woke up that morning, and although earlier I had been excited, I felt really sick and unsure if they would have decent bathroom facilities inside the mountain.
I decided to tag along and see how I felt, as I could always abandon the mine shaft when I got there... my thoughts were simple: I feel like death, sick to my stomach, ready to puke, head throbbing, and at any minute I could get a bad case of... let's just call it mud butt. I don't mean to be crass, but I'm trying to put in perspective how shitty I felt (I apologize for the pun!).

Anyway, our guides were awesome, they were these 2 little Bolivian ladies that (although I didn't know this yet) were experts in the use of dynamite.

We were given our suits, and led over to a little street that was filled with stands like the one pictured... apparently it is customary to bare gifts to the miners while visiting their workspace.
Here is the best part, in this image you can see all the gifts they appreciate: crackers/cookies, water, soda, gloves, hand rolled cigarettes (sold in ripped paper and taped together - they are the pink/light blue right behind the guide), now comes the good stuff: pure alcohol (Ceibo), cocoa leaves, and... oh yeah DYNAMITE.
If the life expectancy for a Bolivian miner wasn't in the 30's, I would consider wasting my life away eating cookies and washing them down with grain alcohol, all the while smoking and blowing shit up.
And to think that you have to show ID here in the "land of the free" to buy anything from cigarettes to alcohol, to even getting into a place that sells these things... in Bolivia they sell TNT on the side of the street! Not to mention the alcohol was about $1 and the dynamite + accessories was about $2 (The dynamite is in the box the lady on the right just bent in front of... you can see the rolled up fuses as well as the "agitator" which armed the explosives).

So, you take out the dynamite stick, put it in a bag filled with little things... I think she referrred to it as an agitator, still a fuse in the there...

...and voila, you're ready to blow some shit up.

She then buried it and lit the fuse... boom.

At this point I decided that I would go into the mines... I figured even if I pooped myself, that I should suck up how horrible I felt, as whenever would I have the chance to get back into a Bolivian mine...?!
I left my camera in the bus, and we ventured into the darkness...

I must say, it was quite amazing... they had chapels inside the mountain, and tunnels leading everywhere... of course most were smaller than you average hallway, some the size of a manhole cover.

The thing was... that that stick of dynamite was on my mind... and for good reason. Because every 30 min or so an enormous explosion would rock the entire mountain around you...! Dust and debris would fall around you just as in the movies... and we would all look at each other. Stressful to say the least.

We then got on the bus and headed from Potosi back to the La Paz... thankfully it was [almost] all paved roads from here on out. Although there were gonna be some unforeseen deviations along the way...

This is how they demonstrate in Bolivia... we passed several of these "blockades." So we could drive right by... others took hour-long detours. Many used rocks and whatever they could find, while others blocked the roads with buses, trucks, and masses of people. Yeah, it was annoying.













When we got back to La Paz that night, I went out and did some last minute shopping, as I hadn't been able to check out the city due to the prior bike trip I took... I was amazed and some of the things that were for sale... and wondered what they would think about it at customs in Newark.

Now this is what I call a convenience store... anything from drinks and snacks to leopard skins and llama fetuses. And no, I am not joking.
The dried fetuses are used as offerings to mother earth ("pachamama") and are buried under every house for protection.
So now you know where to go if you need a dried frog (wealth), armadillo (Bolivian form of Brinks security, prevents thieves from entering -could also double a nice Halloween decoration), burnt llama fetus on a bed of herbs (good fortune with a new business), or a simple ceramic statue of a naked couple (improves sex life).

La Paz is a crazy city... the traffic lights work, but they seem to be optional, and as I mentioned before about the imported foreign trucks, there are no laws on emissions... so buses (like the one above) spew out the most intense blue smoke you've ever seen.
That night I stayed awake as long as possible, went to an internet cafe and webcam'd with my girl Melissa for a while, as the next day would be another grueling 12 hour bus ride back in Peru and on to the ancient Inca capital of Cuzco.

I also bought a portrait of Ernesto 'Che' Guevara from an artist on the street (which hangs right next to me as I type). Which seemed to be strangely fitting for Bolivia, considering it was where he was captured and ultimately executed (with the help of the always insightful CIA) in 1967. The airbushed image on fabric, which turned out to be one of the most expensive purchases on my trip (at $5) is also one of my favorite.


¡Hasta luego Bolivia!