South America: Bolivia

By Andrew Mickel

The poorest nation in South America stumbles from the highest points of the Andes with Chile, down to the Brazilian rainforests in the east.

It has most types of physical environment that exist, from salt plains to lakes. And if you think this doesn’t matter, then try not to voice your opinion too loudly near our tour guide in La Paz. “We used to have coast as well,” he said disappointedly, “until Chile took it away from us.”

When first entering La Paz, the view of buildings between the high peaks is remarkable. At night, all you can see are the lights of houses clinging to the near-vertical peaks.

Everything in Bolivia happens on the street. La Paz is packed with market stalls and hawkers, with aisles of women in their blankets selling just one or two foodstuffs each, amidst all this you will find cooks making chicken and potatoes for the local workers.

As the oxygen depletion will quickly make you realise, La Paz is the highest capital in the world, however it is nothing compared with many other Bolivian towns. Potosi is over 4,000 metres up, but with its silver mine is one of the country’s most significant settlements.

Tours of the mine are available for just a few pounds, but it’s a trip that has the weight of history weighing heavily on it – over eight million have died in the mines in the past 300 years.

The day before I visited fifteen miners had died. It’s certainly something that any visitor should do, as you are providing them with money. But the feeling of guilt is still hard to shift.

The guilt only really sets in after you’ve left the mines. Whilst there, you’re more likely to be fearing for your continued existence. Some dark, deep crevices that were only navigable by planks brought out my best Indiana Jones moments. The 30 metre drops could only be taken by hand-operated winches, and are well designed for the tiny Quechan miners but not for six foot four visitors.

In the depths of the mine a dark, cramped chamber was adorned with streamers and balloons everywhere, with the focus on two terrifying stone statues. It was a devil-worshipping ceremony intended to keep the miners safe (although there are eight million people who might like to contest its effectiveness), complete with coca-smoking and dynamite explosions. The guide assured us that it was taken very seriously by the miners. The looks on the miners’ faces, enjoying free coca, said otherwise.

Still, it certainly isn’t the only place to end up in unexpected situations in Bolivia. The journey into Uyuni saw stunning canyons, mountain passes and abandoned towns and the largest salt plains in the world. The perfect white plains stretch out over land the size of England, but are so flat that you can see the mountains that mark out the edge of all the sides. The day-long Landie tours across the plains were driven by kamikaze locals who know the plains like the back of their hands. Our driver merrily stopped in the middle of the plains, to get out and hack up perfectly cubic salt crystals from the lake under the salt, a moment later they’d be driving around on the salt without a risk of falling in.

In the middle of this barren environment, is an island of giant cacti. The sight of perfectly laid out picnic tables, complete with gingham table cloths, in the middle of a cacti island is one that won’t leave me in a hurry.

Bolivia is deeply different from the Westernised states around it. There’s something of a doomed inevitability of the country falling prey to market forces. But for now, its native spirit makes it an adorable place to visit.