A year ago today, I met the miners of Cerro Rico (Rich Mountain), otherwise known as the mountain that eats men. At its prime (during the Spanish reign), this mountain was the world’s largest source of silver, and boy did the Spaniards love it for that! Today, even though it contains only a about 4% of the content mined is solver, it continues to be a source of income for majority of its town’s residents.

It was one of those times that a traveler is confronted with an ethical dilemma – to turn your back to a tedious and dangerous practice or to take on the unique the opportunity to learn about the lived experiences of someone so completely different than yourself. I chose the latter.

I made a short (3 hour) trip to Potosi early that morning, and arrived by the time daylight had struck. I wandered around, visiting the local lookout point, drinking freshly squeezed orange juice, and eating some delicious Saltenas (stuffed meat pastries) for lunch. It was Monday, and the Spanish empire’s Royal Mint was unfortunately closed.  I didn’t get to go in, but the outside alone conveyed its prestige.

I found a tour group that had trustworthy reviews and hoped into their van at 2pm, stopping along to way to get suited into our mining gear, and to purchase dynamite, cigarettes, coco leaves and alcohol (92% pure, no less) as gifts for the miners.

With helmets strapped on, we walked through the muddy, dusty tunnels, rushing into a single file line every time my guide heard the sound of the mine cart being pushed towards us. We squeezed through a shockingly narrow crawl spaces, spoke to the miners, gave them the gifts we had bought and then, we visited El Tio, the Lord of the underworld and thus the god of the miners. The statue of Tio stood tall and proud, surrounded by offering of coco leaves, cigarettes and alcohol bottles.

My group – about 15 of us, sat on either side of the narrow tunnel facing the statue. My tour guide lit a cigarette and placed it in the mouth of Tio Jorge, and as it burned, she told us the story of Tio – how he offered protection to those underground and how, if neglected, he would release his wrath upon the miners. As she spoke, she opened her own bottle of 92% alcohol, and after offering a little to the earth, she passed it around for us to try. I did, and one tiny sip later, I was both very impressed and very mortified.

We left the mines two hours later, suddenly realized how beautiful fresh air felt in our lungs. I rushed to the bus stop to catch my 3-hour ride back, but not before pulling off a 2-minute conversation who sold me pizza baked in her portable oven. I was thoroughly impressed – both by the pizza and by how rapidly my language skills were improving.