Saturday, September 20, 2003
Cheekey Chipmonk Cheeks
The day before Yesterday I walked in to a Bolivian shop and I purchased :-
1 bottle of fizzy pop
2 sticks of Dynamite
2 bags of amonium nitrate
and 2 X 3 minute detonators
life is good.
The Happy Shopper
Of course it was not for me I had booked a trip down the famous mines of Potosi, and is is customary to bring gifts to the miners who work down there. Of course a packet of fags would have sufficed, but I have always prided myself of my skill for choosing good gifts.
You should have seen the look on their little faces as a terrified gringo handed them enough explosives to move about 3 tons of the rock they were busy chipping away at with toffee hammers! - they were so chuffed, that contrary to my insistance, they went right ahead and used it there and then,
Oh the fun of crouching in a 3 foot high tunnel, with 16 century stone supports while the Chechwan indian miners show thier appreciation, in the only way they knew how.
Of course the cocoa leaves we had stuffed in our cheeks at the insistence of our guide was supposed to dull any pangs of fear we had, along with fatigue, thirst and hunger. All it succeeded achieving for me was the look of a chipmonk, the numb mouth normaly associated with a trip to the dentist and a taste in my mouth that reminded me of the time i drove my bycicle in to a hedge as a child.
After the longest two hours of my life, We emerged from our trip to hell, ears still ringing, all swearing that we would never hate our jobs again. It took a trip down the mine to make me understand how the Catholic Church sits comfortably with the fact that the miners here offer up sacrifices to the Devil! Of course they have a different name for him, and he is a legacy of the Inca miners, not El Diablo, but El Tio, meaning uncle, The working miners here aging from 12 to 35 (mostly live until they are 40ish) understandibly belive that God has no juristiction in their place of work.
El Tio (right) with offerings of coca leaves, alcohol and cigarettes
Yesterday we drove for 14 Hours, stopping only for lunch and to change a wheel on the truck, in as little as 13 minutes, we arrived in La Paz at around 10pm to witness the highest capital city in the world at it’s busiest, today it seems it plays host to one of the largest demonstrations it has seen in recent years, and I am writing from an internet cafe with armed guards and metal shutters to deter the inevitable riot that will ensue, my ears are full of the sound of firecrackers –not dissimular to the sound of my new friends in Potosi at work and the sound of distant mobs coming closer. The length of this email reflects my lack of desire to head back to the hotle, whitch has fewer armed guards and metal shutters!
Tommorow, if God or Tio wishes, I am to take a Mountain Bike Ride – which I will tell you about another time.
Via con Deus
Eric
¶ 1:45 pm
1 bottle of fizzy pop
2 sticks of Dynamite
2 bags of amonium nitrate
and 2 X 3 minute detonators
life is good.
The Happy Shopper
Of course it was not for me I had booked a trip down the famous mines of Potosi, and is is customary to bring gifts to the miners who work down there. Of course a packet of fags would have sufficed, but I have always prided myself of my skill for choosing good gifts.
You should have seen the look on their little faces as a terrified gringo handed them enough explosives to move about 3 tons of the rock they were busy chipping away at with toffee hammers! - they were so chuffed, that contrary to my insistance, they went right ahead and used it there and then,
Oh the fun of crouching in a 3 foot high tunnel, with 16 century stone supports while the Chechwan indian miners show thier appreciation, in the only way they knew how.
Of course the cocoa leaves we had stuffed in our cheeks at the insistence of our guide was supposed to dull any pangs of fear we had, along with fatigue, thirst and hunger. All it succeeded achieving for me was the look of a chipmonk, the numb mouth normaly associated with a trip to the dentist and a taste in my mouth that reminded me of the time i drove my bycicle in to a hedge as a child.
After the longest two hours of my life, We emerged from our trip to hell, ears still ringing, all swearing that we would never hate our jobs again. It took a trip down the mine to make me understand how the Catholic Church sits comfortably with the fact that the miners here offer up sacrifices to the Devil! Of course they have a different name for him, and he is a legacy of the Inca miners, not El Diablo, but El Tio, meaning uncle, The working miners here aging from 12 to 35 (mostly live until they are 40ish) understandibly belive that God has no juristiction in their place of work.
El Tio (right) with offerings of coca leaves, alcohol and cigarettes
Yesterday we drove for 14 Hours, stopping only for lunch and to change a wheel on the truck, in as little as 13 minutes, we arrived in La Paz at around 10pm to witness the highest capital city in the world at it’s busiest, today it seems it plays host to one of the largest demonstrations it has seen in recent years, and I am writing from an internet cafe with armed guards and metal shutters to deter the inevitable riot that will ensue, my ears are full of the sound of firecrackers –not dissimular to the sound of my new friends in Potosi at work and the sound of distant mobs coming closer. The length of this email reflects my lack of desire to head back to the hotle, whitch has fewer armed guards and metal shutters!
Tommorow, if God or Tio wishes, I am to take a Mountain Bike Ride – which I will tell you about another time.
Via con Deus
Eric
¶ 1:45 pm
