Bolivian Miner

I think that the world should know about uneasy life and hard labor of Bolivian
miners. Yes, I am a miner, and I am proud about it. After a colleague of mine
detonated himself inside the Bolivian parliament building, and two police officers
negotiating with him were killed along with him, and ten more people were
injured, the world finally started talking about miners’ problems since there was
no trace of terrorism in that act. Unemployed miner got depressed and pushed both
himself and the people around way too far.

Since the times of Spanish rule when silver-field was discovered in these
mountains, cheap Indian labor was in popular demand. Spaniards would get big
money and Sucre city yielded no Old World cities with its beautiful buildings and
its richness. Potosi of that epoch gave up to 90% of the world’s silver output. For
only hundred years of extraction of that precious metal in 17th century more than
16 tons of it was sent to Europe not to mention smuggled silver. But, time passed
silver mines ran low and the city slowly fell into decay. Now only owners of the
factories and governmental officials have money and as for us, miners, we are still
working hard in horrible conditions at a height of 4000 meters, under the ground
where the temperature can reach 104 F. Everyone can tell you that life of a miner
is hard and very short. My co-workers live ten years at the most, then they either
get hurt and become handicapped, or die because of an accident or from silicosis
(professional miners’ lung disease), so my future was not very bright. After seven
years of low-paid drudgery my health got very weak. That’s why every time when
going deep underground I would ask El Tio for just some health. El Tio is an “Old
man”, the keeper of the entrails, the master of Serro-Rico Mountain. Every sane
miner always leaves something for El Tio, be it a cigar-butt, some coke or cheap
vodka. It’s not allowed to encroach on these gifts otherwise you can get lost
forever in the mines’ labyrinths, die from some unknown illness or get into an
accident. It’s unclear what caused these legends, maybe horrible conditions of the
silver-diggers, maybe mysterious sights in the darkness of the vaults. I asked for
health but apparently my gifts were too poor so I got sick despite the fact I had to
take care of my family. The miners’ union couldn’t help me or my family because
of the poor state protection system, that’s why all I could do was to either die or to
receive medical treatment. The illness wore me up and from a healthy young guy I
turned into a shrunken old man. I was trying everything; I complied with all the
doctors’ orders, visited sorcerers and picked the herbs up in the mountains. I
became an expert in medicine after frequent visits to hospice having no idea about
it a few years before. Although I managed to cure from the lung disease, still it
seemed impossible to gain my weight back. In the hospice a young male nurse
suggested that I get a preparation called Trenabol. This anabolic is well-respected
among the athletes for almost no side effects. Thanks to Trenabol my muscles cells
started growing very rapidly.

After just the first course of injections it was easy to see that the muscle bulk got
bigger in such a small time. Besides, Trebanol can suppress the production of dead

testosterone in the body which for me personally had a good effect of taking away
the spasm of respiratory tract. Thanks to that course I finally was able to eat more
and as a result my metabolism became faster. By the end of the course of injections
I was able to get back to normal life. No, I couldn’t get back to the mines, and
frankly speaking, I was not that willing to. I gave my best years to that job and
even though now I think that it’s a hard ungrateful dirty work, those were my best
years of youth and health. Now I sing in the church choir and sometimes think of
those times with some sadness.

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Spanish conquistadores

I got into speleology while studying in college the history of Spanish conquistadores. Once my mates and I decided to have a fantastic weekend, it took us a while to figure out what to do with lots of energy we had, and finally we decided to go with the older and more experienced and mature guys. The gang was famous for being serious dudes who were into researching the origins, development, geological, hydrogeological, and microclimatic caves features. They would always take big backpacks with gear with them and leave for a few days for an unknown destination. Finally, the last argument for getting into the group was the presence there of some girls who were much into learning modern and ancient flora and fauna. The girls were not only very pretty but also strong, deft, crafty, and had a good sense of humor. My room-mates and I thought that in order to get under the ground, one does not need to be very smart and all we had to do was just to learn the technical part of the process. How naïve we were! In the very beginning I had no idea that speleology was full of pitfalls. For instance, when a person went down or up on the rope and unfastened it, he had to shout to a person behind: “The rope is free” or “free!” The next person has no right to fasten the rope until he heard that signal. Generally, speleology is not a job, but a hobby. Everything is based on enthusiastic volunteers and one doesn’t get paid for discovering new caves. Each one of us had a strong desire to get to a place untouched by others. Besides, I had the craving of absolute darkness, being lit just by a headlamp, and this is not just a turn on for me, it’s the same feeling a mountain-climber gets after getting on a new top. I am going to tell you in details about my first descent. We started in our student camp in Kentucky and went to Tennessee. This place is famous for more than eight thousand caves. We got to Nashville, which is called by the locals “Athens of the South” and “Country Music Capital” by the visitors. In our group there were also some guys who chose speleology to be their major. There were geologists and biologists, who devoted themselves to new caves searching, excavations, path finding, creating the maps and inventing new gear. Most of them belong to different speleological clubs. As for us, we were more of speleotourists, interested in underground trips, knowing nothing about descending or using the gear. However, behind every seemingly easy thing lie painstaking work and regular trainings. After the first half mile of caving I got so exhausted that I couldn’t understand what was so great about it. I crawled out dreaming of a shower, fresh air, good food, and long sleep. The insight came only two years later. I started going to the gym and growing muscle bulk, as I had to build not only my strength but also endurance. It is very important for a young man to train steadily and regularly. I am not ashamed to say that my 40 pounds of muscle I got not only because of a certain diet but also thanks to a medication called Oxymetholone which turned to be the most popular anabolic among athletes. It’s effective and its entire secret is in its intensive androgenic action which is as active as anabolic effect. In the first two weeks I got twelve pounds of muscle bulk and my next caving experience was not that hard anymore. Then I got twelve pounds more twice and decided to stop there. In such a way speleology and healthy life style got into my daily intensive agenda. I could finally combine things incongruous before: my studies and my personal life, my manhood and sports achievements. I wouldn’t have all this now if I stayed a weak boy wasting his time at the parties.

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“Yunona” and “Avos”

It is a historical fact that from the second half of 18^th century up to the beginning of 19^th century America was actively explored not only by Spanish and British seafarers but also by Russian pathfinders and merchants. In 1799 on purpose to colonize Alaska Russian-American company was set up, in 1806 one of its founders, Nicolay Rezanov, organized an expedition to California by ships “Yunona” and “Avos”. Rezanov’s aim was to come to agreement with Spaniards in order to victual Russian settlements in Alaska.

At that time Spaniards were Napoleon’s allies and Rezanov’s mission could have been a failure, but for romantic relations between Russian diplomat and Conchita, the daughter of commandant of the fortress in San Francisco (Concepcion), Arguello. Nicolay and Conchita became engaged and “Yunona” and “Avos” set for Alaska full of provision. Rezanov told Alexander Andreevich Baranov, who was the leader of Russian-American company then, how rich Californian lands were and recommended their active settling.

Nicolay Rezanov died a year later and didn’t accomplish his plans concerning the colonization of America. On basis of the love story of Rezanov and Conchita Arguello the ballad of an American writer, Francis Bret Harte, “Concepcion De Arguello”, Andrei Voznesenski’s poem “Avos” and many other literary and musical works were created.

Centuries passed, but San-Francisco, which is famous today for its hippy, record-breaking steroid consumption in USA and second place in smoking cigarettes “Marlboro” in the world, still retains this romantic story in its memory.

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