Postosi...the mine tour to the devil
Why do people go to Postosi...to do the mine tour. The mines have been the glory and demise of the town for the past 500 years. And the conditions in the mines are probably still just the same.
Our tour started with the shady lady who told Hadass and I that she sold the tour for 80 but would give it to us for 50...whoa lady simmer down. We climbed into this van for 5 people (we had 8) and headed to the miners market to buy the miners presents.
What gifts to you give to miners? Alcohol, cigarettes, coca leaves, water, pop and then for us to play with, dynamite. Our horribly conflicted guide, who spoke English directly translated from Spanish, a confusing ordeal for everyone.
He gave alot of his person views on the tour...like the people in Bolivia are sleeping in the head because they don´t have education and that he sometimes buys cocaine, but it´s ok because he´s educated and that the worst tourists are people from Argentina.
I felt so badly for him the entire time. ¨Thanks¨ to his education he can´t really believe in the mother earth side of this culture, even though he still participates and obviously would like believe in it, and now it´s hard for him to connect with the other Bolivians. But I suppose at least he as a good job.
Bolivians in Potosi have basically one money making option...work the mines and then normally die in 10 to 15 years from inhaling the toxic chemicals. As grim as that is the working conditions make it that much better. Everything is done manually, they stay underground picking away until the get a cart full and push and pull it to the unloading place. For 8 to 10 hours a day.
The main entrance to the mine has sheds where the tools are stored and a main office, all of which looked like there were hosed down with brown liquid. Actually it was dried llama blood from the week befores yearly sacrifices (12 llama´s per mine and a few get buried inside).
We entered the mine in our miner gear and sloshed through muddy floor and cart tracks. This was one of 3 times I could´ve been stuck with claustrophobia, but fortunately it pasted because the guide cracked jokes and I was happy at least I could breathe, as the entire time Hadass was on the verge of an asthma attack. It´s not comforting to hear...yeah there´s not much air in here.
The 2 hour trip in the mine included, chatting with miners and giving them coca leaves, walking hunched over in areas 5 feet tall and crawling on our hands and knees to see the devil all while gasping for air.
The miners kept trying to get dates with us and telling us, ¨they work hard in the day and at night too¨, if we knew what they meant.´
The farther down in the mine we went the warmer it got, which was actually nice. When we finally arrived to the devil we got to rest and find out why the statue showcased a enormous erect penis. Ohhh for the fertility of the mines...rightttt. Even the guide said he thought was because of machissimo.
The Devil, built by the workers, wore mining boots and was covered in coca leaves and confetti. The guide offered coca leaves and a lite cigarette and alcohol to the devil. He also toke customary swig of the 96% almost pure alcohol. He told us how most of the people believed in both Catholicism and the mother earth. When we left we were invited to take pictures with the statue but no one could bring themselves to do it...so back to day light to light a stick of dynamite.
Returning to the light and realizing that no we didn´t die or break any bones was refreshing. The guide was in charge of the dynamite and ran like a mountain goat after he lite the fuse down the hill, buried it and ran back up all before it blew up. The explosion was impressive and I cursed myself for not buying a stick.
Back to cram in the van to return to the city, where we were kicked out of the van in the middle of town, because the driver had only been paid to bring of there, even though we´d never been there before. Hadass protested to no vail, but we made it back to the hostel.
I never want to do I mine tour again, but couldn´t be happier that I did.
A rundown of Surce and Potosi
Last day in Surce made me fall in love with the city. I climbed up to the top of the city to the mirador, I'm lucky I didn't drop dead on the spot it was hellishly steep. Actually, most of the cities are uphill, air snatching mazes.
The mirador is actually a church courtyard, beautiful and school was letting out so I got to watch children risk their lives by swinging on wires holding up electrical wires. Best part of the mirador is the Caribbean style cafe that serves awesome fruit drinks, over looking the city with a butterfly garden. I basked in the sun just long enough to not miss my bus to Potosi and secure a nice burn.
PotosiBack to the lovely mining town. Our hostel, recommended by Hadass's friend, was a hole. The wall even looked like it had blood stains splattered against the wall, "it's wood stain" I was assured. Hummm, any coincidence that our hostel was located 1 block away from two 24 hour funeral stores, just in case you need to buy coffins at 4 am.
Not wanting to hangout in the cold hostel we went to check out the town. In the square we found a man doing a cross dressing/comedy show. I was rather impressed with Bolivia's tolerance for this kind of thing...the guy having men dress him in women's clothes, stuffing his bra, hitting people in the crotch and general good time of mocking everyone. Us included, I wasn't hard to pick out. I was happy that the crowd didn't turn into a mob when he joked and said that of course we liked Bolivia because we had the dollar and that we should look around to see the last of the Inca's.
Since something like 80% of the population in Bolivia is indigenous, he's right. We wandered around the market which was packed with locals, Cocaine leaves and cakes. For some reason there are ready to buy wedding/birthday cakes on every corner.
An early evening because the next day were were off to the mine tours. An experience worth it's own blog.
Sucre, Bolivia´s best city
I arrived in Surce with a group of Isreali´s I´d hung out with in the ¨lay over¨ in the town on the way, I uncomfortably didn´t understand anything they said because it was in Hebrew, but at least my stuff didn´t get stolen. We also picked up another Isreali girl Hadass, who has now been my fantastic traveling companion for a week.
We pack muled it over to the cleanest, most gorgeous hostel I´ve stayed in yet. Hadass wanted to ditch the isreali´s so after we got our room, we went for pizza. One of the ¨supposedly¨ safe foods in Bolivia (nothing is really safe). At some point during dinner we agreed to go to see the dinosaur footprints together the next day and after Hadass´s speech about wanting to see ¨the real Bolivia¨ again by going back to the dumpy town of Potosi for a tour of the mines I had a change of heart and eventually ended up going with her.
The next day we discovered a bright, sunny butterfly filled garden in the back of our hostel where we ate breakfast and toke off to see the dinosaur footprints.
To get to the footprints, you take a bus from the center of town. Bus is a term that should be used loosely, because we were actually taken in the back of a truck on wooden benches. The center plaza was beautiful, green, surrounded by colonial buildings and crawling with shoeshine boys. Although I was wearing canvas shoes they were relentless, but humorous, because when I told one of the boys I was from the states he told me her was George Bush´s cousin.
The ¨bus¨ to the footprints was a good tour of town, the later of which seemed to be owned by the French mining company that has control of the footprints. The company has also, as of 9 months ago, opened a new tourist park for the footprints. Extremely disappointing.
The disappointment is because now instead of walking down, touching the footprints etc. you are forced to see them from 500 meters away with binoculars. Granted the park is spotless, has toilet paper and soap (the holy grail here), and some of the worlds biggest dinosaurs statues, but I really wanted to stick my hand in a dinsaur footprint. Damn progress.
The reason the area around the prints is restricted is not because they are trying to preserve the area but because they are dynamiting around it. I believed this only because opposite the park the quarry is in full operating order.
Back in town after our tour, some of which i thought was complete bullshit- Yeah, I´m sure that a water dinosaur swallowed rocks and spit them out to sink and rise, we went for Chinese. Hadass isn´t the kind of person who fears food poisoning, so I reluctantly went, only because the owners were actually Chinese. Turned out to be the best Chinese food I´ve had in South America, good show Bolivia.
Actually so good, we had it reheated for dinner, where I met this other Israeli girl, an ex-officer in the army. From her I got a history-culture lesson on Israeli and being in the army. After this lesson the receptionist tried to give me a lesson in Bolivian wine, but fortunately I escaped to a gingo bar with Hadass for the evening.
Her conclusion about the evening - The army and American college are strikingly similar minus the the binge drinking.
My conclusion - The world is united by celebrity gossip, Israeli´s were devastated by Brad and Jeniffer´s break-up too.
Uyuni...A slept in a hotel made of Salt
Lucky for me the Japanese girls had arraigned to stay in the salt hotel before even arriving to Uyuni, which met I also got to stay there too. Im an idiot and didn't realize that, yes, the entire hotel is made of salt. This is not an impressive marvel of human accomplishment, more like a slapped together building made of salt bricks.
The salt when cut out of the ground has lines like trees that allow you to tell how old it is and yearly rainfall etc. making the cut salt squares resemble white and brown brinks. The hotel itself is only 15 years old and looks it, it is larger than necessary and has the capacity for water and electricity. However, a few years ago when the generator blew the hotel didn't have money for another one and now its no water and no electricity. The women how runs the place told me the tourists like it better this way and I had to agree. Id much rather say I survived hypothermia inducing conditions in a building of salt with no running water or electricity.
The motley crew of travelers staying at the hotel were me, the Japanese girls (who delighted me by their frequent giggling about things I couldn't understand), two English guys, two other American girls (who irritated me by giggling too much about everything the English guys said), a U.S. diplomat his French wife and their daughter who are currently living in La Paz. The other American girls are doing some three year religious based missionary program, one in Bolivia and the other is going to Chile.
By the end of dinner, which was surprisingly wonderful, I had conflicted with both of the girls. I commented to one of the girls, after she had said she had just finished her chemistry degree, that I would have made her go into pharmaceutical sales. Immediate silence at the table and then she replied, "Well, I guess that just depends on your morals and what you want to get out of life." The English guys agreed and so I became the money hungry girl with no morals. Haha.
My ego was recovered when the diplomat wondered aloud why the saltar was so ungodly cold and I, out of no where, replied that it must be because it was an open space and being white it didn't retain any heat from the sun. They weren't as struck by my genius the rest of the night, but I spent a good part of the evening with the diplomat, his wife and the English guys, while they chained smoked, talking about Bolivia and looking at the stars. The sunset and sunrise weren't nearly as impressive as the sky at night, I wasn't even aware that many stars existed. The sunrises and sunset were great and made me feel like I was in a Dali painting in the Antarctic.
The best sleep I got in the hotel was after sunrise because I was finally convinced I wasn't going to die, an albeit cold but peaceful death, in my sleep. I woke up to find the place packed with tourists.
The tourists ebbed and flowed until our driver came back to pick us up. My entertainment was writing in my journal, watching tourist pretend to do lines of coke for pictures and watching the Japaneses girls play a combination of hopscotch, rock/paper/scissors and tag with the little girl that lives at the hotel with her 1.5 year old brother, mother and grandmother who run the place.
The day before the girl showed us open pools of water in the salt flats. I found out that the entire saltar sits above water. This is the reason they are supposed to be moving the hotel, because its polluting the water. Luckily I didn't know this while I was in the hotel so I didn't have to pretend to feel guilty. Sure I'm glad its moving, but I'm even happier I got to stay there.
The highlight of the rest of my time in Uyuni was lunch with a bunch of foreigners and dinner at the Minuteman. A heated, warm pizza place owned by an American guy and his Bolivian wife. The best pizza Ive eaten in South America hands down and clean bathrooms with toilet paper and soap.
I was happy to get the hell out of Uyuni and off to Surce, even it if was an amazing experience.
Uyuni and the tundra of the Salt Flats
Ale told me Bolivia was cold and oh my god was she right. Freezing, below 0, no heat in the hostel or pretty much anywhere else for that matter, cold.
I got to Uyuni and tried to look for a cab, this town is the size of a postage stamp so of course there weren´t any, but for 1 am it was pretty lively with 2 stands selling fried things. I was still fairly creeped out, maybe it´s the menacing 20 ft, rusted iron statue of a machine women reaching her claws out to the street that is the first thing I saw when I got out of the station.
But, bundled in my newly bought gloves and hat (sorry Kristyn I lost yours on my first bus in Bolivia)I walked the two blocks to the hostel international and waited outside with the 20 other backpackers who´d just gotten off the train.
I was a jerk and walked to the front of the line and got the first room because I´d called ahead and had a reservation. I actually thought the hostel had an open roof because it was so unbearably cold (wrong) and went to my single room, a bonus, and slept with all of my clothes on, hat included, and hoped I wouldn´t die of hypothermia.
My hypothermia fears were unwarranted because I woke up warm. I headed out to town and got a 2 day Saltar tour with two other girls. The hostel actually had hot showers and after praising all the powers in the universe for my luck I headed out for the tour.
The two other girls were from japan and spoke virtually no Spanish or English. There were also two older couples in the jeep as well, both from Buenos Aires. One couple of active retires were nice and chatty, the other were unstable walking and extremely hard of hearing. Which was nice because I got to hear everything in Spanish repeated twice.
To the salt flats. The salt flats were warm in the day and beautifully surrounded by mountains. Pure, blinding white and hard and crunchy to walk on. Bolivia sells the salt internally something like $7 USD for 1000 kg, not a money making venture. And only 15 to 20 people work the flats, but hand at any given time.
We went to an "island" of the fish. A large hill 2 hours into the salt, covered by ancient Cati with birds and butterfly's. I had a winded, maybe I'm suffering from altitude sickness because I´ve had a headache for the entire day, hike to the lookout. The 360 degree view spectacular, pure white and mountains shouldn´t be so stunning but it is.
More later....this is to long already.
Bolivia, it hit me like a slap in the face
On an uneventful bus ride to the Argentine, Bolivian border I met a
strange Canadian man who I befriended to join me in my walk across the
border in case I needed some male protection, not that he would have
been able to provide much but nonetheless.
After crossing the border, changing money and being told by an old Bolivian
women that it was far to cold for me to be outside (she was right) I stumbled upon a
bus heading toTupiza, the "American Wild West" town between the border and Uyuni. I saw other gringos, bought a ticket and jumped up on the bus. Literally, the first step was at least 3 feel high and small children had to heave their grandmothers up the first step.
The bus was ok and I immediately found out many Bolivians had gold grills holding their teeth together and that yes the older women wear traditional clothes(colored blankets, two braids with tassels on them, and funny European style top hats).
The bus toke off and we started out 2 hour trip ON A DIRT ROAD! Actually the whole trip was on a dirt road, I hadn't thought that Ale could be right about this (Ale, you re awesome). The entire scenary was desert and small brick houses and a few towns, I still cant be sure if there was really people living in them because they looked more like abandoned ruins than houses, but occasionally i saw people.
Arrived in Tupiza, the man stilling next to me said we had arrived and I felt sick to my stomach and thought, no way absolutely not please tell me this isn't it. The tiny dust town was pretty much nothing and the bus station was chaos. Animals, people selling food I couldn't identify, dogs, people hauling bags of potatoes and all indigenous people. I wanted to cry, get back on the bus and the gringos Id stopped had other plans than to get the hell out ofTupiza.
I immediately went to the train station to get a ticket to Uyuni, closed until 4pm...it was 10:30 am. I went to the Hostel International and the women tried to talk me into taking a 3 day tour toUyuni, her intense sales push made me stop feeling ill and I was composed myself and decided on a 3 hour horse back riding trip.
The guide for my trip was the old age of 15! He assured me he was going tonight school (yeah right) and we toke off. The views were out of this world, old wild west. ButchCasidy died here or something and it seems like the correct setting for a shot out. Blue, orange and red hills with tons of Cati, pounding heat andunforgivingly dry air.
The horse backing riding went great I didn't fall off, chatted with the guide about why I dont have a boyfriend, saw wild pigs, old abandoned houses, rode under the crackling wire of the electricity plant and got back early to get my ticket.
I waited in line with all the locals, got my ticket and got dinner and talked to
a crazy Yugoslavian,which was difficult because he had only slightly better Spanish than me.
I got the same sick to my stomach feeling when I saw the train, PACKED with people and their goods to sell. Luckily I was in the eleccion section and the only inconveniences I had to deal with was occasional crying baby and the mother than insisted on playing a xylophone while here uninterested 1 year old sipped on a juice boxand ignored her. Spiderman 3, dubbed in Spanish, was also a nice distraction.`
*Forgot to mention that one my way to lunch I saw a procession, which meant almost the entire town walked around the square, stopped and the church to bless and pray and then they continued on all signing followed by a military band.
Also strange Bolivian observances were that Beyonce music videos playing at lunch, almost all the toilet paper here is pink and the market in Tupiza sold decent knock off verisons everything puma and nike and the women manipulate blankets to be backpacks or baby carriers all of which seem to work with surprising efficiency.
Salta...Went to the semi-jungle and fell in a river
My last day in Salta, my new drinking buddies gone, I asked the receptionist what to do for the day. He said take the bus, for 1 peso, to San Lorenzo its pretty and theres a park.
So take the bus to San Lorenzo I did. The local bus was nice, except for the nausa it sirred up (hangover?). Getting off the bus I meet 3 Venesulains, my prayers for a day of speaking spanish were anwsered. A couple my age and the girls cousin were ¨artists¨ meaning they have been traveling south america selling their, nothing special, jewerly. Their jewerly was bad, but they were awesome.
We got dropped off at park and started hiking. Who knew Salta looks like the jungle, I felt like I was in a Jurrasic Park moive the whole time. All the great plant life without the heat and fear of being killed, awesome.
The trail was gorgeous and the girls boyfriend toke it upon himself to pick up all the bits of garbage along the way and carry it in a plastic bag. Quite honorable, but the fact that he kept calling the trash presents and joking they were presents lost its appeal after 2 hours.
Being people that were one with the earth when we got to a wide part in the river the girl told me we were going to go sunbathe away from the guys. Why? Because they were going to strip down and bathe in the ice cold water...umm ok.
While were were looking for the place with the best sun, I leaped across the river slipped on a rock a fell staight into the river. While I was falling I saw the girls face, she looked so horrified that I thought for sure Id be leaving the park with broken limbs. But, with my cat-like reflexes I managed to only get my shoes wet. Im still impressed with myself.
I normally would have freaked out for the reminder of the afternoon, but the girl toke my near mishap in stride and told me ¨Well now you learned not to do that¨. Ok, that was rational enough for me. We hiked up to nearly the top of the hill, the guys (freshly cleaned) went up to the top. I dried my socks and shoes in the sun, we ate nectorines and a butterfly landed on the girls hand and licked off all the juice with itçs freakishly long, green tongue. All quite precious.
We toke the bus back to the city and went to the market for cheap empanadas and watched The Simpsons. They refused to let me pay, which made me feel bad because earlier they were debating weither or not to spend 3 pesos on cheese and decided against it because it was to expensive.
I returned to the hostel went to a hostel asado saw some dancers and got on the bus to La Quiaca the Argentina and Bolivia border.
Salta...3400 steps in total
Woke up, stumbled to breakfast at noon to encounter my new friends. Oh I forgot to mention that when I returned the night before I found one of the kiwis hitting on the night receptionist because he had just been brought back to the hostel by the police because he had been running in the street looking for a place to buy a hamburger.
His mission not accomplished, we decided to raid the communal backpacker fridge, a backpacking sin Im sure, and made egg and cheese sandwiches. Topped off with mustard and mayo they were free and delicious.
After breakfast we went to the market, which was the equivalent to a dirty Wal-Mart with individual stands. The array of products was quite impressive, from underwear to cow intestines.
After the market I ended up going to the park to walk up 1700 steps to the top of a hill to see the entire city of Salta. The hike was as difficult as Id expected, stopping to gasp for air - while pretending to be interested in the mini religous murals, and sweating profusely was only slightly embarrassing.
The death hike was worth it, the view was of the city wasn't that impressive, but the park at the top was. Tranquil with several statues and lots of sun. Our sun bathing was interrupted by one of the park guards who informed us that we disrespecting a religious area. Oops.
That night we went for drinks and meet another group of kiwis and set off to find ¨the best steak house in the city¨. Asking locals on the street, everyone kept telling us ¨only 2 more blocks¨, yeah right, 10 blocks later we were all getting nervous and angry when there it was the parillsa of our dreams.
Not really, but it was the only one we saw and waiter ran out to great us and assured us they had large cuts of meat. The waiter turned out to be one of the most attentive Ive had in Argentina and althought the cuts for meat werent large, but they were plentiful and we had him bring out 5 extra plates. Ummm asado.
Salta...kiwis and a club
This post would have been made several days ago, however the entire town of Salta was without internet. I will be recounting my travels by location.
For dinner I latched on to this kid, Andrew, from my hostel and we ventured down tot the cool street in Salta to meet his friends. A fantastic move that ensured I had kiwi drinking buddies for the next two days.
The kiwis I met were a riot, and within 10 minutes of meeting them they had recounted their tale of getting drugged and arrested their first night in Argentina and their discovery of all the places to buy coke in Peru.
After a dinner filled with wine and steak we went to another bar, met up with some other travelers and decided to go to a club. Unfortunely this lead a group of 6 of us to a place called Cleopatra.
This was a local joint with horribly tacky Egyptian murals on the walls and it was colder inside than out. Maybe the first clue should have been everyone dancing in jackets.
Day one a success - I made friends, voided taking shots of tequila and being taken home by a girl from Salta.
Salta and the journay begins...
So after a killer going away party, special thanks to Vannie, Dave and our performers, which were without a doubt were HUGE surprise. I´m not sure what was funnier the people that were really nervous about the whole thing or the people that were active participants that got flipped around like rag dolls. I´m dying to see pictures. Thanks again and thanks to everyone who came to send me off and joined in on the indulgence!
I left for Salta after after stopping by Emily´s for a quick drink (more like me alone almost drinking a whole bottle of espumante - Emily you´re a great host) with Sarah, Gala and Ale.
The 23ish hour bus ride was rather uneventful, other than a 15 year girl who keep singing out loud to her ipod despite my dirty looks, it went relativity fast. Half of my bus was filled with Jehovah's witnesses - I didn´t even know they were in South America. Anyways, I´m staying at the Backpackers Hostel in Salta and it´s good, clean and is in the middle of the city with a decent amount of people.
My tame adventures so far have been walking around the city, which is small and colonial, seeing a cathedral, meeting a women from Michigan (really what are the chances?) and taking a nap.
Sorry my first entry isn´t more exciting, but stay posted I´ve only actually been in the city for 5 hours.
Les Extrano!
