Tuesday, September 30, 2008

The gringos go underground...

So, I have gotten a little behind in my story-telling. Apologies, apologies!

On Thursday, September 11, some of the gringos and I met up in Concepcion. We had a meeting there on Friday morning, and I suggested we meet Thursday night and do what gringos do best...party! We met up with my host brother at his university around 5 pm, where there was a pre-Fiestas Patrias (like Independence Day) Ramada (fair). We arrived to a field full of young, drunk Chileans milling around and dancing to music blasting from various speakers set around the field. The edges of the field were lined with stands selling snacks like choripan (pork sausage on French bread) and drinks like ponche (in this case, canned peaches soaked in white wine). A full cup of ponche was only 200 pesos...the equivalent of like forty cents! So you can imagine the scene...also, please always set three beautiful gringas (Sarah, Jen and myself) into the middle of a field of drunk Chileans. Everyone stared at us and screamed sometimes friendly ("I love you!"), sometimes not ("Fuck you motherfuckers!") greetings in our direction. Felipe took us to where a group of his friends were gathered, which was like flies on honey. All in all, entertaining, though, until the stands ran out of food and beverages and the groups of drunken partiers were forced to find other avenues to vent their energy--sometimes errupting into fights! We wandered around for awhile, and eventually ended up in downtown Conce, where we met up with our other gringo pals Steph, Lukas, Andrew Ullom, Megan, Delaney, and Stacey with her Chilean boyfriend Alejandro. We drank many beers and ate some pizza, and then hit a nearby pub to dance, where things got a little out of control. Notably, Felipe participated in a "sexy" dance contest with Sarah onstage! I love these sorts of reunions, that always get out of hand and leave a trail of hangovers the next day.

Felipe, Megan and I at the pub.

Lukas and I enjoy our drinks.
No! Stace spills her free drink, while Alejandro looks on.
The gringos dance.
The next day, we were treated by the Ministry to an educational and touristy day in the nearby town of Lota. We visited a beautiful park, and then toured the nearby carbon mine, defunct since 1997 and originally operating in the mid-1800s. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and it was relaxing to wander around the park at leisure, with the full knowledge that we could be teaching classes instead. The park was formerly grounds of the estate of the family that owned the mines.

Fishing vessels in the harbor at Lota.
Views of the park.
I was dismayed that there was no way to acutally get down on the beach!


An awesome greenhouse.
A view of the mine from the park. You can see the giant slag heap. The mine extends out into the ocean under the water.
Heading underground into the depths of the mine was quite an experience! We had to put on all sorts of gear before embarking, including a heavy battery pack around the waist that powered the lights on our hardhats. This led to an extended photo-op!

Lukas poses as pensive miner, I pose as happy miner.

The adventure begins!

Andrew Cook and Abby in the sketchy elevator that lowered us 40 meters underground. I hopped in after them.

As we waited for our large group to descend in groups of four, we took many more photos...like this one of Andrew, Ale, me and Stace in an appropriate sepia hue.

Our guide gets the tour under way, explaining that the name of the mine, Chiflon del Diablo, means "The Devil's Breath" after the explosions that blasted through the air tunnels, killing the miners.

Our guide shows us a bird cage used to house canaries, which would fall asleep in an early stage of death at the first sign of toxic gases, giving the miners more time to try to escape.
Our guide was a miner here for 20 years, and during the tour we learned a lot about the many hardships faced by the miners. First of all, the conditions in the mine were grueling. Many people (myself included before this tour) believe that mines are cold and dank, but I can now assure you that it is hot underground. As the guide led us around, we were stooped over for prettymuch the entirety of our 50-minute tour, and in the heat I began to drip sweat with the burden of traveling awkwardly in an uncomfortable environment. It was a good thing we had our hardhats, too, because almost everyone hit their head at least once (not fun with a hangover!). The miners were responsible for removing an incomprehensible amount of carbon, a task which could take between 12 to 16 hours. Once they had filled the requirement for the day, they could go home. The mine was essentially slave labor, as the miners were not even paid in real money, but in plastic chips that could only be redeemed at the mining company's stores on-site! After spending less than an hour in the mine, I couldn't believe our guide had spent 20 years working in a place like that, under the conditions that he described!

Our guide's grandfather had been a miner in this mine as well, and he started his work at the age of eight! The first few days of a youngster's shift were spent in utter darkness, to attune the children to the conditions of the mine. Once they could be alone in the dark without crying, they were allowed to work in light. It would take two to three days at times for them to stop crying, and as a demonstration our guide had us turn our headlamps off and pass a moment of silence in remembrance of the children and all the miners that died in the mine. Needless to say, it was pitch black and creepy, especially knowing people might have died right where we were standing.

The guide also showed us some drills, and some shredded paper the miners used for hygenic purposes. Apparently, they would use the paper three times: first, to wipe their faces, second, to wipe their noses, and third, to wipe their asses. Then, they would carefully tuck the used paper into the support beams above their heads, because if the paper fell, the rats would eat it and die. The miners had to protect the lives of the rats, who were the first to sense dangerous conditions, and in an influx of gases or an explosion the miners would follow the rats to safety. At one point in the tour, he pointed me and said something, and of course I wasn't paying attention, so I didn't really know what was going on, but apparently I was standing in the perfect mining stance (hunched over, legs slightly bent, hands on knees) because if you were to stand with your torso lower to the ground, the rats would bite you. Either way, it wasn't comfortable.

Umm, yeah, in general, mining seems like one of the worst jobs in the world, I probably wouldn't last an hour. I cannot imagine so many people worked at such tiring, dirty, and dangerous work, and risked their lives, only to be paid in plastic chips! But it did happen. Apparently it still happens in these kinds of conditions in the silver mines in Potosi, Bolivia.

Apparently, there is a Chilean film called Sub Terra that was filmed in this mine, dramatizing the plight of the miners. It won some awards in Chile or something. Someone watch it and tell me how it is!

1 comment:

Andrew said...

carbon = charcoal or coal, I suspect!