In a mine in Bolivia: looking for silver in the devilish mountain

Salzburg Students Document the Dangerous Life of Miners in Bolivia

Extreme exhaustion Deadly altitude Intense effort Deep fatigue. .

Potosí/Salzburg – Heavy breathing, little light, narrow tunnels and work tools that seem to be taken from colonial times. This is the day-to-day life of the miners who work in the silver mines of Cerro Rico, in Bolivia, risking their lives in extreme conditions. Six FH students from Salzburg accompanied a Bolivian family in their work inside the drilled mountain and made a documentary about their harsh reality.

Potosí, a very valuable jewel

Cerro Rico, whose name means “Rich Mountain”, made the city of Potosí, located at 4100 meters above sea level, the most valuable jewel of the Spanish conquistadors. For centuries, their wealth was extracted and shipped to Europe, leaving behind a history of suffering and death. Since the discovery of the silver vein in the 16th century, approximately eight million people have lost their lives on the mountain or on their way to it. One of them was the 14-year-old son of the Cruz family, whom the film crew accompanied. “He died due to the toxic gases. His family is still working in the same place where the tragedy occurred,” says Andreas Posch, one of the filmmakers.

 

Work in the Dark and Inhumane Conditions

Raúl Cruz works in a place where the sun never shines: the tunnels of Cerro Rico. The most frequent causes of death among miners remain extreme working conditions, which have hardly changed since colonial times. Using hammers and chisels, workers dig for the last vestiges of silver, zinc, tin, and copper. However, the main deposits have already been exhausted.

“The mountain is completely drilled, the main veins are almost exhausted, and the top of the hill is at high risk of collapse,” Posch warns. Underground, food is forbidden, so many miners chew coca leaves to combat fatigue and hunger. In addition, the carbon monoxide released by explosions affects your health. “There are very few protective masks. Many workers die from poisoning or suffer from silicosis,” explains Katharina Rettenbacher, producer of the documentary.

Every day one less

According to statistics, at least one miner dies every day in Cerro Rico. For the inhabitants of Potosí, the mountain has always been considered a dwelling place of the devil. They believe that the deceased have been "devoured" by "Dio", a demonic deity in whom beliefs still persist. Despite the risks, around 15,000 miners continue to work at the mine, including up to 1,000 children. "The city depends on the mine. Many have no other job option," says Rettenbacher. Among the workers is the Cruz family: father Guillermo, his eldest son Raul, son-in-law Grover, and the two youngest sons, Alex and Marco. Day after day, they search for minerals for days of up to 18 hours. For six weeks, the Salzburg students immersed themselves in their world, filming every aspect of their work within the narrow underground passages.

The uncle is a manifestation of

ancient Andean deities related to the earth and mining. According to statistics, at least one miner dies every day in Cerro Rico. For the inhabitants of Potosí, the mountain has always been considered a dwelling place of the devil. They believe that the deceased have been "devoured" by "Dio", a demonic deity in whom beliefs still persist. Despite the risks, around 15,000 miners continue to work at the mine, including up to 1,000 children. "The city depends on the mine. Many have no other job option," says Rettenbacher. Among the workers is the Cruz family: father Guillermo, his eldest son Raul, son-in-law Grover, and the two youngest sons, Alex and Marco. Day after day, they search for minerals for days of up to 18 hours. For six weeks, the Salzburg students immersed themselves in their world, filming every aspect of their work within the narrow underground passages. With the arrival of the Spaniards, these figures were demonized and assimilated into the image of the European devil, giving shape to the figure of the Uncle as we know it today.

The purpose of the documentary is to:

to make visible the situation of the miners of Cerro Rico. The film dispenses with narrators and relies on the sounds of the mine and the testimonies of the workers to tell the story. The project received support from the FH, film funds and the Salzburg government. Thanks to a crowdfunding campaign, the students raised the final 5,000 euros needed to complete the production. The 25-minute documentary premiered on July 1 at the Das Kino cinema in Salzburg. 📌 More information at: 🔗 www.cerro-rico-film.com

The Miners of Cerro Rico Part 2

LOS MINEROS DEL CERRO RICO PARTE 2

Julio Zambrana and the veins that come out of Cerro Rico

Intervention

A hooded Inca stands at the base of the crimson mountain, conversing with a hat-wearing Spaniard. The dismembered hands of the Virgin Mary frame the conical mountain, her head floating before the summit. Golden flashes suggest divine sanction from the Spanish colonization of Cerro Rico de Potosí in the 17th century, when the ‘Virgin Mountain’ was painted by an anonymous artist. The oil painting is cracked, it is four centuries old. Today, the West’s intervention in Cerro Rico is varied, manifesting itself in both charities and exploitative foreign mining corporations.

“How do they know about us?” Julio asks when explaining why he doesn’t work for one of the European charities in Potosí. Julio Zambrana began asking himself these questions at the age of 20. Now, as a miners’ rights activist and director of an ethical tourism company, he saved his salary from mining and studied history and tourism.

“I used to sleep three hours, wake up at 7 a.m., and then go straight to college.

Since then, he has been an ardent advocate for education, using himself as an example for other miners struggling to leave the mountain. Julio wants to provide the children of miners with the vocabulary needed to question and redefine this intervention.

The Cruz Family

PFor the Cruz family, the issue of education is complicated. Like many parents in the mining neighborhood of Potosí, the desire for their children to complete their education is born of the increasing number of deaths in mining life. The mountain is collapsing, mining equipment for the cooperatives is still obsolete, and Morales is not listening to calls to improve public infrastructure in Potosí. Education can offer a permanent escape from the mountain—and Julio’s foundation will provide the dynamite.

From the cement terrace of the family’s two-bedroom home in Potosí’s mining neighborhood, the city center seems far away. At this altitude, the Quechua of northern Bolivia surpasses the Spanish one. The old town of central Potosí is not exposed to the dry winds that blow from the Andes; Hundreds of meters below, it is full of tourists. The windburn marks on the cheeks are signs of those who live on the margins of Potosí’s social consciousness, at 4,700 meters above sea level.

Julio used to work in the mine with Guillermo Cruz, Martina’s husband. Living in the city center, Julio has falsified documents proving that Roberto Cruz, Guillermo’s son, works in his office, thus allowing three of his daughters to attend the prestigious Santa Rosa School in the center. William’s daughters are a rare exception. In Potosí, geography is political; catchment areas determine your future.

A Bugs Bunny sweater print is distorted, stretched over the visibly pregnant belly of 15-year-old Daisy. She is the girlfriend of Chacho Cruz, Guillermo’s son. Up on the surface, there is no Tío, the protector of the mines, to take care of the women and girls growing up in the mining communities. The dropout rate in primary and secondary education is the highest among girls; Sexual abuse, teen pregnancy, and lack of support leave many women dependent on their partners to survive. For miners in cooperatives without a state salary or pension, their premature deaths from blood poisoning leave their families abandoned in the informal sector, often selling on the street to survive.

“Chacho is the youngest, he’s 17 years old,” Julio says before climbing the mountain to his house. His brothers and father never wanted him to work in the mine.

Julio recreates the dialogue between Chacho and his father Guillermo, after Daisy, his then-girlfriend of fifteen years, became pregnant:

“I’m going to work!”
“Where?”
“With you, Dad. How old were you when you married Mom?
“Fuck you!” I was 17 years old, but it’s different! I’m your father and I don’t want you to be a miner, you have to study.

His mother, Martina, switches from Quechua to Spanish as she tells us that Chacho has decided to drop out of high school, marry Daisy, and become a miner, like his two older brothers.

Education: a weapon against the lack of change in Potosí

Julio is furious; Its curses bounce between Quechua, Aymara, Spanish and English. His hands point in multiple directions as he speaks: toward the invisible figures who control Potosí, the refinery owners, the overburdened teachers, the government officials. He rises abruptly from his chair in his dark office, having a hard time sitting still when he talks about the lack of government intervention in Potosí.

He is upset because the postcards he sells in Sucre to raise funds for the miners do not even cover the cost of his ticket and lodging. Because of the laws he fought to change, prohibiting tourists from exploding dynamite in mines in 2008, and because of the legal obligation since 2011 for tourism companies to allocate 15% of their profits to miners. Because the basic educational materials that the miners requested in 2014 have not yet been granted by the Morales government. Public schools in the poorest areas of Potosí continue to be neglected, with little attendance and without materials. But the mouth of Cerro Rico won’t close anytime soon, and public infrastructure remains just a memory on miners’ torn protest posters.

Education offers a way out of the appalling conditions of the mines, both for the present and for the future. Chacho’s life expectancy in the mountains is as fragile as the foundations of the mines themselves. Since the reprivatization of Cerro Rico in 1985, transnational corporations such as Coeur Mining Inc have maintained their operations on the dangerous upper levels of the mountain.

Julio’s new foundation, Nuevo Amanecer Para Los Niños, wants to break through these unfavorable circumstances. A window with steel bars is engulfed by a dense cave. A gleaming drill stretches out like a welded sword; the sound of the stone tearing against the metal is imagined. Emaciated cheeks float above an advertisement for beer made from quinoa. The paint is not cracked. The mural Julio commissioned from a local artist to adorn the front of his office serves as a visual prologue to the conditions he wants to change. The image offers a more realistic portrait of Cerro Rico than the ‘Virgin Mountain’: painted from the inside, like New Dawn for Children.

Nuevo Amanecer Para Los Niños has been legalized by the government and should be ready to receive donations by the end of July 2016. It does not yet have a website, but it can be found by searching for the name of the foundation. Please visit and share to help spread the word about this important cause.

Heavy breathing on death mountain

Heavy breathing on death mountain

Extreme exhaustion Profound fatigue Maximum altitude  .

Heavy breathing on the mountain of death
Grover / Marco Guillermo / Story about a group of students from Austria, who as their final master’s project filmed a film about a mine in Bolivia. Student film about the Bolivian silver mine – Heavy breathing on the mountain of death
Work in the silver mines of Cerro Rico in Bolivia is extremely dangerous. Six students filmed the conditions in which workers extract rare metals from the earth under extreme suffering.

Author : Julio Cesar Morales Zambrana

Heavy breathing

However, Armin Thalhammer says the experience was oppressive and terrifying. Spend hours in a narrow underground passage, only 80 centimeters high and one meter wide. Dust, stench, heat. “When I saw it for the first time, I was shocked and at the same time fascinated,” says the 25-year-old film student at the Salzburg University of Applied Sciences.

 

The first time was during a trip with artists from Mexico, which Armin Thalhammer made in 2013 through South America. In Potosí, Bolivia, at 4100 meters above sea level, he met the Cruz family, all miners who work in the tunnels of Cerro Rico. “Even today, around 15,000 workers, including children, are still digging into the mountain with hammers and chisels to find silver, tin, lead, copper or zinc,” says the student from Salzburg. “Despite the toxic gases and dust, most miners do not wear gas masks or safety clothing.”

 

DEADLY SEARCH FOR SILVER

The work is extremely dangerous: between the sixteenth and eighteenth centuries alone, several million people died in the search for silver deposits, and to this day, on average, one person dies every day due to a work accident or poisoning. The Cruz family has also lost a member: One of the sons died at age 14 due to carbon monoxide poisoning at the mine. However, the others continue to work underground, as they have no other option to survive: the father, the three adult children and the son-in-law.

Photo gallery: 15 images
Film project in Bolivia: Students in the deadly silver mine

“It must show in what conditions some people live in the world,” Thalhammer thought, and together with five fellow students he developed the idea of a student documentary project. “The organizational preparation took a semester,” says Katharina Rettenbacher, who, as a producer, took care of the filming permits, visas and financing. Once the paperwork was completed, the six students took a Spanish course, traveled to Bolivia for six and a half weeks, and entered the mine. “We really immersed ourselves in the everyday life of the Cruz family,” says Julian Hartmuth, the project’s cameraman.

Day-to-day means up to 18 hours straight in the darkness of the mine. Eating underground is prohibited, so miners chew coca leaves to combat fatigue and hunger. “The air was so bad that sometimes I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to breathe anymore,” Julian says. Despite this, film students returned to the tunnels every day, crawling through the narrow passages, filming and photographing. As a result, they achieved stunning portraits of the miners.

IN SEARCH OF FINANCING

“This project is incredibly important to all of us,” says Armin. “We wanted to finish it at all costs and complete the movie.” Each of the six young filmmakers has invested several thousand euros out of their own pocket. Now they are looking for support through crowdfunding and their website to be able to finish their ambitious documentary project. “Our university and film funding have already given us great support, but we still have a lot planned for the film,” says producer Katharina.

The students want “moviegoers to experience the film as intensely as possible,” Armin explains. For this reason, they have decided not to include a voice-over narration, but to rely completely on the sounds and acoustic atmosphere they recorded in the mine. To truly convey this terrifying situation, special speaker systems will be installed during the screenings. The students describe their work as an “experimental documentary” and hope to capture the interest not only of innovative cinemas, but also of film festivals in the coming year.

Julio César Morales and his Commitment to the Future of Children

The ‘New Dawn for Children’ Foundation and its Struggle for the Future of Cerro Rico

The “New Dawn for Children” Foundation (FUNAM) was founded by Julio César Morales Zambrana, a former miner committed to improving the living conditions of the most vulnerable in Bolivia. With Bolivian state license No. 379/2017, FUNAM works to provide support not only to children living and working in Cerro Rico, but also to those in rural and rural communities, where needs are equally urgent.

 

By means of small

Through concrete and sustainable actions, the FUNAM Foundation works to improve the quality of life of the most vulnerable communities, from the children of Cerro Rico to the rural families of southwest Potosí.

The Foundation's effort

The effort of the foundation seeks that, beyond poverty and difficulties, there is a ray of light that illuminates the hopes of those who need it most.

Cerro rico the silver mountain

Cerro Rico – The Silver Mountain: One of the best Bolivian films that reflects the mining reality

Extreme exhaustion Deadly altitude Intense effort Deep fatigue. .

One of the most impactful film productions about Bolivia and its mining history.

Moving and visually powerful storytelling

this film immerses us in the lives of the miners who work in the depths of Cerro Rico de Potosí, a mountain that has been exploited for centuries and that, to this day, continues to be the livelihood of many Bolivian families.

This film is not just a historical account, but a raw and realistic look at the conditions in which miners work day to day. It shows us the hardness of their work, the risks they face and the precarious conditions in which they survive. In addition, it makes us reflect on the legacy of the exploitation of natural resources and its consequences for both the people and the country as a whole.

Cerro Rico, known for having been the source of countless tons of silver that enriched the Spanish Empire in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, remains a dangerous workplace, where men and boys risk their lives in extreme conditions. The film makes us wonder if anything has really changed since colonial times or if mining is still the same, just with other names and structures.

For those who want to know more about this story, we leave you the link to see the film Cerro Rico – The Silver Mountain, an essential work to understand the reality of Potosí and the lives of those who depend on mining. It is an opportunity to raise awareness about a problem that, although often ignored, is still valid and affects thousands of Bolivians.

This film is a wake-up call, a reminder that a nation’s wealth doesn’t always translate into well-being for its people. We invite you to watch it and share your opinion on this powerful documentary.

El Tío in the Mines of Cerro Rico: A Study of July

The Uncle in the Mines of Cerro Rico: A Study of Julio

Pre-Hispanic Origins: Andean Deities in Cerro Rico. Religious Syncretism: From the God Pachacamac to the Mining Uncle

 

Religious Syncretism: From the God Pachacamac to the Mining Uncle

Julio César Morales Zambrana, researcher and scholar of the mining culture of Potosí, has addressed in his work the figure of the Uncle, a deity feared and venerated inside the mines of the CJulio César Morales Zambrana, researcher and scholar of the mining culture of Potosí, has addressed in his work the figure of the Uncle, a deity feared and venerated inside the mines of Cerro Rico. Their study, published in El Potosí on February 5, 2016, exposes the origin and evolution of this belief, linking it to pre-Columbian myths and the imposition of Christianity in colonial times.

 

According to his research

El Tío is the manifestation of ancient Andean deities related to the land and mining. Historical records, such as those of Bartolomé Arzans de Orsúa y Vela, describe finds of statues within the hill that could have been idols of pre-Hispanic worship. With the arrival of the Spaniards, these figures were demonized and assimilated into the image of the European devil, giving shape to the figure of the Uncle as we know it today.

Julio also mentions

How devotion to the Uncle is still in force in the mines, with rituals of offerings, sacrifices and superstitions that the miners respect to ensure their protection and success in the extraction of minerals. If you are interested in learning more about this topic and reading the full study, you can consult the original article at the following link:

The Miners of Cerro Rico Part 1

The Miners of Cerro Rico Part 1

Open and Closed Dialogues – Cerro Rico Miners, Evo Morales and Bolivia's Plurinational Voices

Conflicting Conceptions of Progress in Bolivia

Pope Francis sweats due to altitude sickness. He has little time to acclimatize to the political tensions inherent in his visit. Thousands of Bolivians have waited eight hours for his sacred sign of greeting in August 2015. While the Pope stands on the steps of the main Cathedral of La Paz, in the colonial architecture of Plaza Murillo, the clock of the adjacent Congress building advances in the opposite direction. Evo Morales’ support was perhaps with the movement of the needles, whose counterclockwise turn seeks to help the Bolivian people rediscover their sarawi, which in Aymara means “path”.

 

The oral ones remained inside the Cathedral while the Pope left. His skepticism towards the fervent Catholic tradition of his country, which for him represents the colonial past, is well known. The noise of his absence was drowned out by the selfie stick war in the crowd.

This visual chaos, a reflection of the country’s national identities, also symbolizes the current state of Bolivian politics and Morales’ own presidency. Like the colors of the Wiphala of Qullasuyu, Bolivia’s national flag, Morales’ policies have many shades. The president must maintain friendly relations with Western investors, while responding to the demands of Bolivia’s 37 indigenous groups for a greener, more local economy.

Three terms ago, Morales was elected as Bolivia’s first indigenous president. For many, his election represented a departure from the neoliberal policies of the 1980s and 1990s, and a return to an economy that slowed the structural transformation of Bolivia’s rural areas.

Morales remains attentive to the historically silenced voices of indigenous groups, forcing him to respond more appropriately to foreign investment and the expansion of the natural resources sector. In the systemic reorganization following Bolivia’s socialist revolution in 1952, three miners were incorporated into the cabinet. Labor rights were at the center of Bolivian political consciousness.

However, after the failure of the MNR in the decade prior to the economic crisis of the 1980s, the meaning of progress in Bolivia remains a contentious issue. If the clockwise moves counterclockwise, they are still tied to a larger structure. Morales may have renationalized three of the country’s largest mines in his first term, but there are no miners in his cabinet. The president faces fiscal pressures to expand the natural resources sector and allow private companies to invest. Morales must balance these conflicting interests: more and more balls are added to his juggling act, and some fall.

The conditions of the Cerro Rico mines – past and present

The mines of Cerro Rico look like a forgotten ball on the political road. Abandoned in the reprivatization of the 80s, Morales has never taken them back.

Piercing the heavy dust, our lanterns trace the jagged caves of the mines. Poor ventilation fills the mouth with crystalline silica dust faster than words can come out. Distant vibrations rise up my feet as we stand silently at the convergence of six veins. We heard the dynamite explosions. Miners dig deeper into the mountain. The Uncle, the demonic protector of the mines, resides on a makeshift throne on a lower level of the mountain. The destructive quality of Morales’ indifference to the miners’ calls is palpable.

Catholicism does not penetrate the farthest corners of the mine. Inside Pachamama, also known by its ancient epithet “the mountain that devours men,” miners sacrifice coca leaves and absinthe to the lord of the underworld. These offerings protect them from silicosis and the gradual collapse of the mountain. The names that try to humanize the mountain reflect the desire to understand the magnitude of its ancestral mortality: since the sixteenth century, 8 million miners have died.

“I am the rich Potosí… the envy of all kings.” The motto on the city’s coat of arms in the 17th century is one of the earliest songs of capitalism. From the mines sprouted silver coins, the strength of the Spanish empire, the chains that led to the mita, the system of forced labor that enslaved thousands of African, Inca and Peruvian workers. If the mountain has dried up after 500 years of exploitation, the thirst for its silver and tin has not. Through the windows embedded in the meter-thick stone walls of the Bolivian Mint, where coins were hammered to bear the “P” mark, the mountain today is dotted with miners’ huts who live near the vein entrances.

The workers of the Cerro Rico mines belong to cooperatives, are hired by the state or by foreign private companies. This clash of labor systems reflects Morales’ own difficulty navigating the interests at stake in Bolivia. It kept the mountain privatised after it was deemed “unprofitable” for nationalisation in the 1980s, leaving cooperatives vulnerable to exploitation by private interests, such as the US company Coeur Mining Inc.

The cooperatives, without a fixed salary, dig in the most dangerous parts of the mines to ensure an income. These 22,000 workers do not have time to form unions and demand more rights. In 2011, Morales called the cooperatives “anti-national” by signing contracts with Coeur Mining, and yet the government is under fiscal pressure to allow these private companies to invest $240 million in the mountain, as part of their profits go to the state. Mining is Bolivia’s second largest source of income.

The miners of Cerro Rico

Julio Zambrana showed me the palms of his hands, calloused from forgetting to wear gloves as he descended through a winch to the lower levels of the mine. “I wasn’t Spider-Man or Rambo, I was eighteen.” Julio worked in a cooperative mine at age 18 and now runs a tourism group that donates 15% of every ticket to the miners he visits.

Moving up through the miners’ Sunday market, where second-hand toys from the U.S. and China are sold, we arrive at the Cruz family home. Julio worked in the same cooperative as Guillermo Cruz, but, unlike Julio, who managed to attend university, Guillermo has remained in the mines. His children and grandchildren are also miners. The family of thirteen people lives in a two-room shack in the mining area, at an altitude of more than 4,500 meters. From the concrete roof, you can see the naked Andes.

Martina Alejo Cruz, the grandmother, cries looking north. Cerro Rico has stolen years from his family and took the life of his 16-year-old son by suffocation. The average life expectancy of a miner is 40 years, due to silicosis and blood poisoning.

Morales and the miners’ calls

The dense dust mist in the mines impedes vision. More transparency is needed in all aspects of the mountain. A lack of organization prevents improving job security and opening a political dialogue on working conditions. Violent protests are the main means of communication between Morales and the miners.

If Morales heeds the Potosí miners’ call for the growth of public infrastructure, it could infuriate indigenous environmental groups and private companies. But it will save thousands of lives. “I hate Evo Morales,” Julio says.

Respiración pesada en la montaña de la muerte

Respiración pesada en la montaña de la muerte

Agotamiento extremo Altitud mortal Esfuerzo intenso Fatiga profunda .

Respiración pesada en la montaña de la muerte
Grover / Marco Guillermo / Historia sobre un grupo de estudiantes de Austria, que como trabajo final de máster filmaron una película sobre una mina en Bolivia. Película estudiantil sobre la mina de plata boliviana – Respiración pesada en la montaña de la muerte
El trabajo en las minas de plata del Cerro Rico en Bolivia es extremadamente peligroso. Seis estudiantes filmaron las condiciones en las que los trabajadores extraen metales raros de la tierra bajo un sufrimiento extremo.

Autor : Julio Cesar Morales Zambrana

Respiración pesada

Sin embargo, Armin Thalhammer dice que la experiencia fue opresiva y aterradora. Pasar horas en un estrecho pasaje subterráneo, de solo 80 centímetros de alto y un metro de ancho. Polvo, hedor, calor. “Cuando lo vi por primera vez, me quedé en shock y, al mismo tiempo, fascinado”, dice el estudiante de cine de 25 años de la Universidad de Ciencias Aplicadas de Salzburgo.

La primera vez fue durante un viaje con artistas de México, que Armin Thalhammer realizó en 2013 por Sudamérica. En Potosí, Bolivia, a 4100 metros sobre el nivel del mar, conoció a la familia Cruz, todos mineros que trabajan en los túneles del Cerro Rico. “Incluso hoy, alrededor de 15.000 trabajadores, incluidos niños, siguen excavando en la montaña con martillos y cinceles para encontrar plata, estaño, plomo, cobre o zinc”, dice el estudiante de Salzburgo. “A pesar de los gases tóxicos y el polvo, la mayoría de los mineros no usan mascarillas de gas ni ropa de seguridad”.

BÚSQUEDA MORTAL DE LA PLATA

El trabajo es extremadamente peligroso: solo entre los siglos XVI y XVIII, varios millones de personas murieron en la búsqueda de yacimientos de plata, y hasta el día de hoy, en promedio, una persona muere cada día debido a un accidente laboral o intoxicación. La familia Cruz también ha perdido a un miembro: uno de los hijos murió a los 14 años debido a una intoxicación por monóxido de carbono en la mina. Sin embargo, los demás continúan trabajando bajo tierra, ya que no tienen otra opción para sobrevivir: el padre, los tres hijos adultos y el yerno.

Galería de fotos: 15 imágenes
Proyecto cinematográfico en Bolivia: Estudiantes en la mortal mina de plata

“Se debe mostrar en qué condiciones viven algunas personas en el mundo”, pensó Thalhammer, y junto con cinco compañeros de estudios desarrolló la idea de un proyecto documental estudiantil. “La preparación organizativa tomó un semestre”, cuenta Katharina Rettenbacher, quien, como productora, se encargó de los permisos de filmación, visados y financiación. Una vez completado el papeleo, los seis estudiantes tomaron un curso de español, viajaron a Bolivia durante seis semanas y media y se adentraron en la mina. “Realmente nos sumergimos en la vida cotidiana de la familia Cruz”, dice Julian Hartmuth, el camarógrafo del proyecto.

El día a día significa hasta 18 horas seguidas en la oscuridad de la mina. Está prohibido comer bajo tierra, por lo que los mineros mastican hojas de coca para combatir el cansancio y el hambre. “El aire era tan malo que a veces temía no poder respirar más”, dice Julian. A pesar de ello, los estudiantes de cine regresaban cada día a los túneles, arrastrándose por los angostos pasajes, filmando y fotografiando. Como resultado, lograron impresionantes retratos de los mineros.

EN BÚSQUDA DEL FINANCIAMIENTO

“Este proyecto es increíblemente importante para todos nosotros”, dice Armin. “Queríamos terminarlo a toda costa y completar la película”. Cada uno de los seis jóvenes cineastas ha invertido varios miles de euros de su propio bolsillo. Ahora buscan apoyo a través de crowdfunding y su página web para poder finalizar su ambicioso proyecto documental. “Nuestra universidad y los fondos para el cine ya nos han brindado un gran apoyo, pero todavía tenemos mucho planeado para la película”, dice la productora Katharina.

Los estudiantes quieren que “los espectadores de cine experimenten la película lo más intensamente posible”, explica Armin. Por ello, han decidido no incluir una narración en off, sino confiar completamente en los sonidos y la atmósfera acústica que grabaron en la mina. Para transmitir verdaderamente esta situación aterradora, se instalarán sistemas de altavoces especiales durante las proyecciones. Los estudiantes describen su obra como un “documental experimental” y esperan captar el interés no solo de cines innovadores, sino también de festivales de cine en el próximo año.

Julio César Morales y su Compromiso con el Futuro de los Niños

La Fundación ‘Nuevo Amanecer para los Niños’ y su Lucha por el Futuro de Cerro Rico

La Fundación “Nuevo Amanecer para los Niños” (FUNAM) fue fundada por Julio César Morales Zambrana, un exminero comprometido con mejorar las condiciones de vida de los más vulnerables en Bolivia. Con licencia estatal boliviana Nº 379/2017, FUNAM trabaja para brindar apoyo no solo a los niños que viven y trabajan en el Cerro Rico, sino también a aquellos en comunidades rurales y del campo, donde las necesidades son igualmente urgentes.

Mediante pequeñas

A través de acciones concretas y sostenibles, la Fundación FUNAM trabaja para mejorar la calidad de vida de las comunidades más vulnerables, desde los niños del Cerro Rico hasta las familias rurales del suroeste de Potosí.

El esfuerzo de la Fundación

El esfuerzo de la fundación busca que, más allá de la pobreza y las dificultades, haya un rayo de luz que ilumine las esperanzas de los que más lo necesitan.

Trabajar donde el sol nunca brilla

Trabajar dónde el sol nunca brilla

Agotamiento extremo Altitud mortal Esfuerzo intenso Fatiga profunda .

Trabajar donde el sol nunca brilla es enfrentarse a un mundo de sombras donde la única luz es la de la voluntad, donde el aire es denso y el tiempo parece detenido, pero donde cada golpe contra la roca, cada gota de sudor y cada susurro entre túneles oscuros se convierten en un testimonio de resistencia, de fe en lo invisible y de la esperanza de que, incluso en la negrura más absoluta, el espíritu humano puede encender su propio fuego y abrirse paso hacia la vida.

El Tío en las Minas del Cerro Rico: Un Estudio de Julio

El tío en las minas del cerro rico: Un estudio de Julio

Agotamiento extremo Altitud mortal Esfuerzo intenso Fatiga profunda .

Orígenes Prehispánicos: Deidades Andinas en el Cerro Rico. Sincretismo Religioso: Del Dios Pachacamac al Tío Minero

Sincretismo Religioso: Del Dios Pachacamac al Tío Minero

Julio César Morales Zambrana, investigador y estudioso de la cultura minera de Potosí, ha abordado en su trabajo la figura del Tío, una deidad temida y venerada en el interior de las minas del CJulio César Morales Zambrana, investigador y estudioso de la cultura minera de Potosí, ha abordado en su trabajo la figura del Tío, una deidad temida y venerada en el interior de las minas del Cerro Rico. Su estudio, publicado en El Potosí el 5 de febrero de 2016, expone el origen y evolución de esta creencia, vinculándola con mitos precolombinos y la imposición del cristianismo en la época colonial.

Según su investigación

El Tío es la manifestación de antiguas deidades andinas relacionadas con la tierra y la minería. Registros históricos, como los de Bartolomé Arzans de Orsúa y Vela, describen hallazgos de estatuas dentro del cerro que podrían haber sido ídolos de culto prehispánico. Con la llegada de los españoles, estas figuras fueron demonizadas y asimiladas a la imagen del diablo europeo, dando forma a la figura del Tío tal como se conoce hoy.

Julio también menciona

Cómo la devoción al Tío sigue vigente en las minas, con rituales de ofrendas, sacrificios y supersticiones que los mineros respetan para asegurar su protección y éxito en la extracción de minerales. Si te interesa conocer más sobre este tema y leer el estudio completo, puedes consultar el artículo original en el siguiente enlace:

Cerro rico the silver mountain

Cerro Rico – The Silver Mountain: Una de las mejores películas bolivianas que refleja la realidad minera

Agotamiento extremo Altitud mortal Esfuerzo intenso Fatiga profunda .

Una de las producciones cinematográficas más impactantes sobre Bolivia y su historia minera.

narración conmovedora y visualmente poderosa

esta película nos sumerge en la vida de los mineros que trabajan en las profundidades del Cerro Rico de Potosí, una montaña que ha sido explotada por siglos y que, a día de hoy, sigue siendo el sustento de muchas familias bolivianas.

Esta película no es solo un relato histórico, sino una mirada cruda y realista a las condiciones en las que los mineros trabajan día a día. Nos muestra la dureza de su labor, los riesgos que enfrentan y las precarias condiciones en las que sobreviven. Además, nos hace reflexionar sobre el legado de la explotación de los recursos naturales y sus consecuencias tanto para la gente como para el país en su conjunto.

El Cerro Rico, conocido por haber sido la fuente de incontables toneladas de plata que enriquecieron al Imperio Español en los siglos XVI y XVII, sigue siendo un lugar de trabajo peligroso, donde hombres y niños arriesgan su vida en condiciones extremas. La película nos hace preguntarnos si realmente ha cambiado algo desde la época colonial o si la explotación minera sigue siendo la misma, solo con otros nombres y estructuras.

 

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Para quienes deseen conocer más sobre esta historia, les dejamos el enlace para ver el filme Cerro Rico – The Silver Mountain, una obra imprescindible para entender la realidad de Potosí y la vida de quienes dependen de la minería. Es una oportunidad para sensibilizarnos sobre una problemática que, aunque muchas veces ignorada, sigue vigente y afecta a miles de bolivianos.

Esta película es un llamado a la conciencia, un recordatorio de que la riqueza de una nación no siempre se traduce en bienestar para su gente. Te invitamos a verla y a compartir tu opinión sobre este impactante documental.