The Devil's Mine

Up to this point the tone of our blog has been pretty reflective of our individual personalities, jovial and light-hearted. I believe that above all, the reason that we decided to go on this journey was to savor the last few drops of a waning youth before the realities of career and family makes our lives serious. We left home looking for adventure, new experiences and more than a few laughs. Without a doubt the experience to this point has delivered.

Getting geared up.

However, today I find myself more pensive, and even humbled, by the experiences of the past few days. At least for me, this youthful expedition of exploration and discovery has had a few unintended side effects. 

We arrived in Bolivia a few days ago, a country that consistently sits among the poorest in the whole world. It often smells of sewage and trash is so scattered about the surrounding landscape one would think that it was their primary cash crop. Politically, it would be flattering to call it 'unstable' since they have changed their government over 200 times in their 180 year history. Looking out the window of our bus as we crossed the border, observing towns and hills rush by I realized the crushing degree of poverty than many people live in. Perhaps 'survive' would be a better description. Surprisingly though, it's humble charm has been captivating. 

One of two guys we met who started working in the mines at 13.

We left Uyuni, a remarkably depressed place, for Potosí, another stop on our way to Brazil. We discovered that the city rested at the foot of a series of mines dating back to the colonial period, and to our amazement, we could spend a day exploring them. Built in the 17th century, the mines are incredibly archaic and (sorry mom) extremely dangerous. Most miners don't last more than ten years because of brutish working conditions. There is no 'company' that runs the place, just individual miners who work on their own, cooperating with other miners to increase profits. As a result there is virtually no safety regulation protecting the workers. On more than one occasion they have received the nickname of 'The Devil's' Mine.' (A 2005 documentary was made about them http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Devil's_Miner)

Entrance to the mine. Four times a year the portal is drenched in lama's blood. For real.

After meeting our guide we suited up and descended into the mines to experience a day in the life of Bolivian miner. As we descended, we squeezed through a maze of hellish, claustrophobia-inducing tunnels, ever spiraling downward as if built by the devil himself. At our lowest point, some three hundred feet below the surface of the earth, we met a few miners hard at work. As I alluded to earlier, I was supremely humbled when we were introduced to Carlos, a miner the same age as me, who had been slaving in those abysmal caverns since the tender age of 13. 

Justin dives headfirst into a cavern.

Exploring those caves was one of the most extreme things I have ever done but I was happy to leave. When we reached surface and were met by the relieving hope of the afternoon sun all I could think about were Carlos and Hernan and the like, who wouldn't be coming up for another 5 hours. For us it was an afternoon of fun, but for them it is their lives.

I was struck with gratitude for all that I have. I am grateful that in my early years my biggest problem was making the basketball team, rather than being in such a dire straights that my survival as a young boy was contingent upon risking my life in a silver mine.  I am grateful that I can go to school and get and education. I am supremely grateful that, by pure chance, I was born into a family and a country where opportunities are limitless.

Dustin and Justin pause to breath. Since the mine is built into a volcano temperatures are high and oxygen is scarce.

When all is said and done, We know we will come home with a new perspective of the world.

Most of the holes are so small you have to crawl on hands and knees to get through.

After.

Silver is one of the primary minerals produced by the mine.

Justin chewing some coca leaves. All the natives chew them to curb hunger, fight the altitude and for a quick energy boost.

We met a miner name Hernan who let us try our hand at mining. We failed miserably. 

The group with Hernan.