IN STEREO

In the last year of school, I left because my father couldn’t support us. I left home, became independent and met my son’s father. I was with him for two years and got pregnant. He didn’t care. I had my son and I started to work the mountain, to provide for [him]. I didn’t really know what had to be done. We started to shovel, to ‘choose’ the mineral, as it is said. The minerals are swept and gathered together, and are chosen. There were rocks that were no good that we were throwing to one side. We had a cart that didn’t work. We used to cart [mineral] all day, all week. The truth is, at first I felt strange [working with the miners]. Then as the years have passed, I have become accustomed. Sometimes the miners are abrupt, and they don’t talk like normal people. They speak with strong words between them. They are screaming everything and they have no respect for anyone, among themselves.
You get used to it. It is distracting – the miners talk to you; they do their clowning. They tease each other in there; like there are no women, they call a man a woman’s name. Sometimes they make me laugh. I’m not going to be doing this my whole life, because with the low market rates, we could be fired any moment. The first thing is for my children to have a home, so I would open some business in there. Because where else? Here in Potosí there is almost no work, and if you have to leave, you still have to look for somewhere you can work. But the price of the mineral has been increasing, and we are just holding on. [My son] says, “I can go to work, Mommy, don’t worry. A few more years and I’m going to buy a truck. I will do everything possible so you do not work.” – Cathy