Chala is the Wild West. Sin City on the Pacific south coast of Peru that services the thousands of predominantly men who mine or work for the mines in this whole vast region. Needless to say by night when the gangs of men rock up by the truck load drinking Pesco till their banjo’d, business is brisk in the endless parades of whore houses which are Chala. Chala by the way in Quechua (the indigenous language here) means the bit you don’t eat of a corn husk once the corn has gone. I believe there are many people like that in Chala.

The hotel Tourista was a dump. Not only was there no soap, there was no water and to top it off the receptionist was pissed off at us for being a day late. David had company under his bed spread. Not in the form of one of the local working girls, who apparently come in all shapes, sizes and preferences right down to the obligatory midget who going by the compact size of most miners was probably the busiest girl in town. No Dave’s new friend was a cockroach, who after being rudely awoken from its slumber in the bed continued to feast on the discarded picnic that Dave later discovered under the bed.

Yesterday’s journey to the Aurelasa mine was without doubt a rough crossing but nothing could have prepared us for the 4 hours we were about to undertake in order to reach the remote villages at 7000ft and home to the next mine working towards certification from fairtrade.

Once we reached about 5000ft the road became so narrow that it must have been 6 inches less than the width of the Hyundai. This combined with the ridiculous drops either side; the falls of rubble and the constant stream of seemingly runaway trucks belting down laden with rocks petrified us all other than Frico the driver, who just took simple manoeuvres such as reversing back down and around hairpin bends in his stride. His only concern (thank God) was that we were to make sure the journey back was made before it got dark as then it can become really dangerous.

At 7000ft the first holes in the ground with tripods of wood above them and a winch signalled the presence of single family artisanal miners. A few more switchbacks and we were at the peak which consisted of vast meadows of barren, windy dirt. Even though we could have approached from anywhere across a width of several miles, the designated track lead us to a security gate policed by a smiling woman and a sign welcoming us to the San Luis mine.

How anyone could build anything up there is a question as big as how did the druids transport those rocks to the spot that became Stone Henge. Shops; one selling Honda motorbikes, a school; streets of the usual brick, wood and straw houses and of course a football pitch, but the best of all a market stall selling CD’s and DVD’s. I bought Bruce Lee’s ‘Enter the Dragon’.

One of the unique things about the San Luis mine is that women are also among the miners which is normally considered unlucky. Frico (who they all love due to his ground work on behalf of Solidaridad) went into a small wooden house, came out 5 mins later and said Maria a woman miner would be happy to talk to us.

Maria had four beautiful children, a tiny black sheep and some chickens in her home\corner shop. Oh yes and she was pregnant.

She had been a miner for 20 years and her husband was a miner. I asked if there was competition between them about the amount of gold they find, she looked at me as though I was stupid and replied “Of course there is, what do you think?”. She also said that behind every man is a great woman, but in her case she was in front (we had no doubt). By now Maria, cautious at first was laughing and would not stop talking. About her life, her kids lives and the issues of life at 7000ft in a mining community (of which there are many). The main concern is the contamination of the village due to the use of mercury in processing the ore. Next on her list; a good chance in life for her children.

After telling the two eldest girls that I had two daughters, the eldest who was 14 handed me some rocks from the mine for my youngest daughter. I said to her “can you imagine the brownie points she will get at show and tell?” Fortunately I had some gifts for them too; packs of coloured pens and pads for the girls and a football for the boy of about five who later showed us why South America produces the best footballers in the world.  The eldest girl on receiving the pens told me that her dream was to study fashion design and had also started to learn to make jewellery. That caught me broadside. Instantly you just find yourself thinking how ridiculously lucky we and our families are. The mountain between this girl (who by now could not stop smiling) and becoming a fashion designer was f*cking monumental - we knew, we had just driven up it. We said “how great that your mum mines gold and you can make rings”, she corrected us by saying that she also makes bracelets and pendants. I told her I gave the first ring I made to my mum, so who would she give hers to? After a second she said her mum also but not until mother’s day.

Later the whole family (minus a pregnant Maria) were running circles around us with the football, the little boy would take these powerful shots at us and at his sisters then cross his arms as if to say “beat that if u can”. We couldn’t.

I spoke about yesterdays mine a lot but a couple of notes worth making about the San Luis mine is that in order to become certified, one of the requirements from Fairtrade is to remove the use of mercury as we said before. In this instance the village is so contaminated that the only safe way is to move the whole place to a new location about 1km away. This shows how committed the people are to achieving their goal. Claudio who was the director of the mine wanted of course for us to go in. My companions declined with some lame excuse of it being too dark to film…

As much as yesterdays experience was more than enough for me I agreed, plus I wanted to interview a male miner which we hadn’t done yet and they were all in the mine. On the way in Claudio told me that the face was 2km’s in… my heart sank. I have to say despite the walk I was doing pretty good until the now familiar thumps of far away dynamite started. We made it. Juancesar, a young miner seemed very happy about answering my questions. He had a small daughter and his main concern was that the community be made safe for her or he would move his wife and daughter away and commute to them when he could. He then asked why I was in his mine, I told him and he shook my hand and thanked me for coming. 

On the long way out Claudio asked now that I had seen the way he was changing things would I want to invest in the mine? I replied that by using the gold they produce rather than a more conventionally sourced product, combined with actually being there and seeing with my own eyes why things have to change and then communicating this to my clients and the press was my way of supporting him.  I did stick my neck out though and add that once all the many changes were made, I am convinced that larger mining companies, smelters and investors in mineral commodities will be looking to invest in small scale sustainable projects in order show their commitment to responsible business practice.

I hope I am right for Claudio, Maria and Juancesar’s sakes.

 The way back down the mountain was easy peasy after seeing what the people of San Luis have to deal with every day of their lives.

We stopped once back on a road and from a collection of road side stalls we bought chilli stuffed olives from the nearby olive groves and some cold beer. In some warped way we thought we deserved it.