We left La Paz heading south along the altiplano towards the rich colonial town of Potosi. Potosi holds rank as the highest city in the world at 4070m. When the Spanish came here in 1535 they found exorbiant amounts of silver in cerro rico, a pyramid shaped hill above the city. It quickly grew into the largest and richest city in the Americas with a steady stream of mules and slaves packing 40 kilo bags of silver coins bound for the ocean. African and indigenous slaves were put to work in horrendous conditions to extract the rich minerals from the hill and over the 470 year history of the realitevely small mines over 8 million people have died from accidents, exposure to chemicals and suffocation. A lot has changed since then but still over 15000 miners are actively mining the hill in extremely dificult condition with the most basic technology. The average man dies after only ten years of mining mostly due to exposure to chemicals and fumes.

A unique experience is now available for tourists visiting Potosi. Many ex-miners have given up the mines and started offering guided tours of the mines. We signed up for a private 4 hour tour paying only 5 dollars each with a very nice and english speaking ex-miner with 6 years mining experience named Willy. Before entering the mines we stopped at the miners market and stocked up on big bags of coca leaves, loads of harsh cigarettes (15cents a pack), beer, and bottles of 96% alcohol(the kind you use to clean cuts), and of course several sticks of dynamite (this is the first place Ive been that dynamite is sold freely on the road side and for only 1.50$ a stick ). We wernt planning to party mine style but rather bringing gifts to relieve the miners.

This is not that the miners are partying wildly mine style either rather that they need these things to practice their ungerground culture and appease their underground god and Pacha Mama( mother earth). Upon entering the mine we immidiatley payed tribute and said a prayer to El Tio( literally The Uncle ), a statue of a red devil, the god of the underworld, who smokes, drinks, and chews coca leaves. We sprinkled coca leaves on him, poured alcohol on his feet, eyes, and penis asking that he would watch over us and give fertility to the miners, we lit him a ciggarette and then proceded into the dark unventilated depths of Cerro Rico. We were waiding through ankle deep water through a narrow and low passage occasionally jumping out of the way so that struggling miners some as young as 16 could push their 1 ton loaded ore carts past. Some passages after fresh dynamite blasts were so saturated in dust and fumes that we could hardly breath. We met many miners and gave them gifts of beer and coca leaves which they definetly appreciated. The best part of the tour was when we rounded a corner and sat down with four miners who were celebrating Pacha Mama by drinking their powerful alcohol so we sat down and joined them. Always spilling the drops of your drink on the ground as offering to Pacha Mama hoping that next week she would offer better finds and nobody would be hurt. The chief had been working in the mines for 35 years far more than most could ever survive, his face was weathered and his voice was coarse but he still looked strong and able but much older than any average 52 year old. As we were leaving we were informed that a young guy was hurt in a deep shaft from an ore cart that came off its tracks. He went to the hospital but we were told he would be alright still the boss was very worried and thinking if the operation down below should continue.

Its amazing what a realization it is how easy life is in Canada after seeing something as such even though we all feel that life is sometimes so unfair and dificult. The problem is that we all take things too seriously in work at home, I sure I know that I get to caught up in things sometimes. The fact is that we should just take things for what they are, if their broken or wrong they´ll get fixed tomorrow or eventually. It not like were going to die from our mistakes.

It was definetly one of the most fascinating cultural experiences in my life. Our tour guide explained to us that the culture is so important to him that despite the obvious dangers and harsh conditions that he will never stop coming back into the mines if not as a guide then back as a miner. Of course the tour was not totally over, we had given one miner a stick of dynamite but had two left. We went out on an open slope and our guide kneeled down and prepared the fuse and extra bags of ammonian nitrate. I got to light the fuse and as soon as it went we sprinted off expecting a big bang. Ive played with so called 1/4 sticks of dynamites on halloween M-80 or whatever there called but these bangs were ferociously more powerful than anything Id ever seen. One and then the other leaving nice little craters in the rocky ground and a ringing in the ears. That was definetly a memorable experience and so we happily walked back to town and feastd on delicous steaks for 1.50$.

After our brief stay in Potosi we boarded a bus bound for Sucre. Sucre was Spain´s main city in western South America during colonial times until 1826 when Bolivia was liberated and independance was claimed in Sucre making it the capital of the republic. Since then La Paz has taking over the main role but still many government houses are still here. The center of the city is recognized as a UNESCO world heritage sight for its well preserved colonial streets and architecture. After travellin Bolivia for almost three weeks this was a very refreshing place. All the way from Potosi (4070m) the road descended for 150 km and left the high and dry Altiplano(high plane) behind. Still with substantial elevation but now in a world with trees and more energy and wealth. Here people owned private cars, the streets were very clean, and flowers grew in and around the plazas. The Altiplano is very nice in ways but everything is exhausting and at times bleak so it is nice to get away after so long.

We checked into a fabulous international hostel with a green garden, a shining white marble floored dining hall, spotless bathrooms, a furnished balcony, and best of all the barbeque af all barbeques. Maybe the best part actually was the price at slighlty over 3 dollars Cdn for a gorgeous 4 person room, an absolute bargain! A German company that organizes Volunteers houses its volunteers in this hostel and the owner deals with barbeques and other such merchandise so he figured to give the hostel his best, a 3000 euro cast iron barbeque complete with a stack that smokes meat effortlessly. So right away I met some of the volunteers and we went out to the market and bought a massive bag of meat, 5 kilos of nice meat mostly just two giant slabs that we had to butcher up for the cost of 100 bolivianos( 12 dollars American) I cant remember how much beef costs at home but IM sure its more than 2.50 a kilo. We had an enormous feast including huge amounts of home made smoked beef jerky then we went out for a serious night in the local clubs that brought us home around 7 Am. Heading for the club all 7 of us including Clemens a 6´5 guy from germany jammed into a small cab. It was so funny as we were so tightly packed and already pretty drunk, then came on the song Eye of The Tiger which we cranked up very loud and sang along with as we approached the club. It was way to funny, I couldnt stop laughing it was just way to funny. Its really fun going out here because you can go out for a big night and its very unlikely to spend more than 7 or 8 dollars no matter how hard you try. The next night we had another big barbeque but this time I went to the Supermarket and bought some really nice beef roasts and T-bone steaks and cooked a superb meal.

All I did in Sucre other than eat alot of meat and shop for a lot of meat was the futbol game we went to. The local team was playing a team from the north and our german friends were going so we tagged along. Preffered seating only cost 3 dollars and it was a beautiful day so no reason not to go. The view from our seats was not only of the gorgeous field but also of the sloping hills and gentle mountain climbing around town. It was very beautiful and one of those moments when you realize the moment and savour it. A true Bolivian experience as Bolivians are crazy for football.

I really liked Sucre and could have stayed for atleast a week but feeling rushed to make some progress south we left bound for Argentina. Also strikes were starting up in La Paz in protest of Evo Morales, the current president, strong socialist reforms so we really wanted to leave the country before the roads were all blocked. This of course is a very standard thing, Bolivia has to be one of the most unstable governments in the world and road blocks are a fact of life that can go on for weeks. That day turned out to be a pretty gruelling one. Back from Potosi we got on a ten hour night bus to Tarija in the very South of Bolivia. This was a journey mostly on dirt roads and in a lower class bus, actually all the buses are ironically way nicer than the public buses in Canada, Grey Hound really sucks! We got the last seats and went straight to the back of the bus meaning that every now and then we would be tossed up as the driver rampaged through potholes down the dirt mounatin road. From there a three hour bus took us to the border but as we boarded a military official got on to tell us there was a road block at the tunnel so if any one wanted to get off rather than risk getting stranded to do so here. Luckily the road block had not yet formed and we sailed through and got dropped only one km before Bolivian migration due to construction. We got our exit stamp from a friendly Bolivian official in there shaggy Bolivian customs shack and then walked across a bridge crossing the border river to a shiny office with well uniformed border officiales who gave a good search of our bags. They confiscated the squash that Sam bought in Sucre even though it was imported from Argentina. It wasn´t woth arguing over, it was just a squash. Besides we didn´t really need a squash anyway.

We knew we were entering a much different country than Bolivia. It was still going to be cheap but nothing like Bolivia. Bolivia was joyously cheap and that had been one of the best parts, travelling cheap is a rewarding experience. Without trying much to conserve my money at all I had spent exactly 3200 Bolivianos(400 US ) including a mountain expedition over 3 weeks of eating very well and staying in some incredible hotels. Adios Bolivia! There is a good possibility that I may return on this trip but its definite that one day I will return to climb its tall and challenging peaks in climbing season as its a really cheap place to climb.