The Cooperative Mines of Potosi

I've never really thought twice about mines. The image totally bored me, reminded me a bit of Brassed Off, and oh how I loathe Northern British comedies. Living a sheltered city life, who honestly cared?

After the fantastic Uyuni tour, I decided to follow on to Potosi, not really sure what to expect. It sounds totally cheesy to write that you've never had such a moving, mind-bending experience, but I'm not really sure how else to describe it.

For 10GBP, (15% of which goes to the miners), we booked on the early morning tour of the Cooperative Mine, starting with a visit to the miners market. Prancing round town like the Seven Dwarves in our ridiculous helmets, pantaloons and wellies, we were shown to the dynamite shop, and bought coca leaves, cigarettes and drinks as presents for the miners we might meet underground. All very touristy and jovial.

As we were shown around the processing plant, it all became a bit more real. This place was all rickety staircases, poisonous materials on show and grotty machines. Didn't exactly feel like we were going to bump into the Health and Safety Officer anytime soon. The ascent up the side of the mountain was precarious, and we pulled up to the entrance.

Claustrophobia and nerves began to set in. The ground underfoot was just muddy puddles and the tunnel became more narrow with each step. We began to cough and sweat. The conditions in the mine, it became apparent, were appalling. We'd only been in there 5 minutes and already it felt horrifically nightmarish.

As we descended each level, our guide (a local former miner, who described himself as 'lucky' for having learnt English and got a job as a tour guide - I soon saw why), told us to 'keep positive'. As he pointed to the next entrance, I considered leaving the mine. It felt wrong and I was uneasy. But I perservered, sliding down a hole not much wider than the human body. It was here that we had our first encounter with the miners. They were really friendly, answering our questions in Quechua, translated by our guide. We gave them coca and cigarettes and carried on.

Deeper and deeper, hotter and hotter. It was 40 degrees. The air was thin, the 'ceiling' lined with natural asbestos and the ground unsteady. We met a group of 10 miners, doing overtime on a Sunday to strengthen the supports in the mine. They were grateful for the coca leaves, which they chew all day, foregoing food in case they ingest toxic chemicals. We met the Tio, a character not unlike the Devil to whom the miners make offerings to appease the fact they are digging out his mountain. They figure it's he who controls who lives and who dies, and who finds the minerals. The mine, for them, is that close to Hell.

We never made it to the 4th level. Backtracking along the way we'd come in, our pace quickened as it became apparent we were all totally desperate to get out. Seeing the exit truly gave new meaning to there being a light at the end of the tunnel.

Refusing to answer the question of how many people had died in the mine in the last year while we were 400m down, our guide later told us it was 17 in the last year. Reading further into it, since the mine opened in the 16th century, it's 8 million.

Emerging into the hot sun, exhausted and drained after only 2 hours, I think we all had a little cry on the bus home. Some of the miners told us they`d worked down there for almost 20 years, but many die within 15 years of entering, from silicosis, a form of pneumonia caused by exposure to the countless noxious chemicals down there. It´s a tragic inevitability. The whole thing was really an overwhelming experience and one I know I can never forget.

If you have a minute, I implore you to look up the movie The Devil's Miner, which we later watched in Sucre. It follows the story of a miner who's already worked the mines for 4 years. He works daily in these dreadful conditions to support his family. In fact, before we went in, our guide told us by the time we came out we'd love our jobs. He was right.

When the film was made, that miner was just 14 years old.