Peru 2009

By Ibrahim Jameel, Khyber Minerals

I had a couple mineral trips planned for later in the summer, but because I felt like I was wasting time, and the price was right, I bought a ticket to Peru. Apart from the Peru issue of the Mineralogical Record (published in 1997 and which contained anecdotes from the 1970’s) some specimen labels, and a couple dealer names, I really had nothing else to go on. But I figured what the heck…

After a delayed flight, I arrived in the Lima hotel at 2 am. The next morning, I set to work, wandering around the Lima city center, looking for dealers. Since the early days of Peruvian mineral dealing described in the MinRec, much has changed. There are no vendors on Jiron La Colmena, the street where the pyrite vendors once hocked their wares. There are only one or two shops selling crappy, touristy material at inflated prices, only one of which happened to be on La Colmena.

To get to the good stuff, I would have to dig deeper. By chance, I came into contact with one of the men who brings specimens from the mines to Lima, which are then resold by the Lima-based dealers to foreign clients and tremendous markups. In Peru, the specimen business is highly competitive, and there is a small, but endless swarm of mine runners or "compradores" constantly visiting the mines, or in many cases even residing in their vicinity just waiting for the next mineralized pocket. As is the case with mines anywhere, discoveries can be made at any time—sometimes years pass, other times only months or weeks. The more mineral trips I take, the more I see that at its most basic levels, the mineral trade is largely a thing of chance.

But on with my story. I invited the man to lunch, and began discussing a possible trip to various Peruvian mines. After agreeing on a price, meeting place, and time, we set off the next morning for Pachapaqui and Huanzala, which would be the first of several stops on our trip.

Now, as I stated above, I knew the chances of actually finding material were slim. For me, getting to see a locality and to talk with some of the men who work there really improves my appreciation of a specimen. When I go to Tucson, or buy something online, all I see is the finished product. Surely there is a longer story that has been truncated. When you see a mineral with an accompanying “Ex. (insert collector/dealer here)” label, it is easy to forget that someone had to dig it up, sneak it out of the mine, etc. I certainly forget quite often.

Pachapaqi/ Huanzala

The drive to Pachapaqui took most of the day, from 10 am to about 8 pm, with a stop for lunch. The first part of the drive was along a coastal highway. Interestingly enough, in some places the highway was straddled on one side by ocean, and on the other by desert and sand dunes. Beachfront property in much of Peru is not as highly valued as in the US. In fact, much of the land was occupied by farms.

Because I am not old enough to rent a car, all of the travel took place by bus, minibus, or most often by “coperativa”—essentially a taxi carpool that travels the long distances between rural cities. Coperativas were a particularly fun way to travel—at every stop I would meet new people, and we would travel for up to several hours, sometimes discussing random topics, or sometimes in silence.

I am fluent in Spanish, but the stuff they speak outside of Lima can be hard to understand. Every Spanish speaking country has its own accent, and in Peru this accent involves skipping the vowels toward the end of words and omitting pauses...it is not the nicely enunciated Central American Spanish that I am used to speaking at home. When they start mixing in Quechua (the very old, incredibly complex native language) things can get really confusing.



At dusk we reached Yanacocha, (“Black Lake” in Qechua) a small town located above 4000 meters of elevation, and from there it was a short drive to Pachapaqi, and the small town where some of the workers lived. We stopped, and after a short string of inquiries decided to proceed to Huallanca (Wa-yan-ka), home to the miners of Churuc (Chyoo-ruk) the classic rhodonite locality, and Huanzala. Since the days described in the Mineralogical Record, the miners no longer live in a camp, but rather in the neighboring city.

Along the way we passed the Hunazala mining complex, which stretches for nearly a kilometer and contains an ore refinery, offices, managerial housing, and other more complex structures that I could not identify. Because many of the larger mines in Peru are privately owned, ore refining takes place on-site, and metal production is considerably more efficient than in Bolivia. During my visit to Bolivia last year, I was surprised to learn that some of the most famous specimen producing localities are actually cooperatives—the miners work essentially for themselves, hauling out ore which is then sold to ore merchants, who then either sell to refineries, additional middlemen, or refine the ore themselves.

In Peru there are also hundreds of smaller "artisanal mines" which are operated by anywhere from 3 to around 30 individuals. Most of these lack refining capabilities, and the vast majority are ore mining operations. A small number, around 1-2% I am told(which is probably an overstatement) are operated for specimens. This is the case with places like Nuevo Mundo and the nearby augellite locality, which is primarily worked for quartz.

We reached Huallanca at nearly 9:00 pm. Most people were already asleep. Life in the town revolves around the mine—shifts begin and end at 4:00 AM, so by the time we arrived the town was quiet. We visited a small restaurant in one of the streets of the main square, and I ordered a trout. Peruvian mountain streams have many trout, and the fish is available in most cities. In retrospect, eating fish from a stream near Huanzala, Antamina, and at least a few other major mines was probably not such a great idea…. But at least it tasted good, along with the fried rice and potatoes that accompany most meals in the mountains.



I returned to the hotel, took a cold-water shower (no hot water that day), and went to bed early. At 4:00 am, the town came alive. I was awoken by the sound of buses, men waking up to get ready for work, and roosters. It was time for the mine shift to change. About an hour later the noise died down, and I returned to sleep for a couple more hours.

That morning we went around town and visited friends of my guide. Most had nothing to sell—Churuc was no longer producing and a team of mine runners had arrived the previous day to purchase what little was available from Huanzala (only low-grade pyrite, from what I am told). After more inquires, I arrived at another house where I was shown a few lots of pyrite. Most of it was heavily damaged, but I selected approximately 20 lbs of very fine octahedral specimens—anything that was undamaged and aesthetic I purchased. The best had crystals approaching 4 inches.



Peruvians have names for pyrite’s different forms. “Chispas” are the clusters of small ~5 mm crystals frequently seen in rock shops, or used in arts and crafts. Most of it comes from Huanzala. “Cocos” are dodecahedral crystals, “triangulos” and octahedral, and “cubos” are cubes.

Chispas is the most common, cocos and cubos follow. Triangulos are the pyrite that Huanzala is particularly famous for—the mine has produced some of the finest octahedral pyrite in the world, and it is only encountered at the mine at intervals of several years.

I was told that specimens are extracted form the mine in backpacks weighting as much as 50 kg. Officially specimen extraction is not allowed, so somehow they manage to sneak out bags of specimens. This method of transport is one reason for the high incidence of damaged specimens.

After wrapping up my purchases in newspaper and purchasing a used box from a bodega, or corner store, for .50 soles (17 cents), we set off for Miraflores, the barite locality several hours away.





Miraflores

Miraflores is a small town located near the larger town of Llata (ya-ta). From Llata it is about a 1 hour drive to Miraflores, over bumpy dirt roads that overlook precipitous drops. A mistake by the driver would certainly result in death, and small monuments pitched along the roadside commemorate such events.



At one point, the road was so steep and muddy that the car was unable to overcome the hill. After three attempts, allowing the car to roll backwards down the hill each time prior to accelerating, the car finally made it. But it only worked the third time because we got out and pushed. Needless to say, I got dirty, but it was kind of fun…. And afterward the road was not as steep so no further pushing was necessary.

Miraflores is constructed like most other rural Peruvian towns, with a central square containing a church and various businesses. Additional roads lead to and from the square, lined by more houses and businesses, and then there are pastures.

The barite mine is approximately a 1.5 hour walk from Miraflores, and this is how the miners get there—cars cannot make the trip. I was jokingly told that it takes 1.5 hours to walk to the mine, and then 2 to get back. The longer return trip is the result of lugging heavy specimens, and exhaustion from the day's dig. Those familiar with these barites know how thin and delicate they can be. Even the hefty ones are susceptible to falling off their matrixes, and extra care is required when bringing them back to Miraflores, and then transporting them over the bumpy road to elsewhere.



I did not have time to visit the mine itself, as there was no way that I was going back to Llata over that crappy road in the dark, and there was no hotel in Miraflores. I did meet with a couple miners selling barite, and came away with over a hundred specimens. At 6:00 we were set to leave, but somebody’s cousin was ill and needed to go to Llata. The Taxi driver was in a rush, as he had an impending commitment in Huanuco approximately 5 hours away and did not want to wait. The other passenger and I stalled him for about 30 minutes, but eventually we had to go.

Because of his hurry, the driver drove back a bit faster than I would like… it was like a bumpy roller coaster, only without the safety features. I don’t know how fast he was going, because the speedometer was broken. On that note however, I would like to add that I now love Toyota. There are two cars mainly used in the mountains: the Toyota Hilux for the very heavy duty drives, and the Toyota Corolla. Despite the Corolla’s total lack of sex appeal, it is a mean machine capable of powering up the worst of roads. And these cars are not new either—some have been battered for as much as 20 years. In Pakistan, Toyotas are also the preferred method of transport in the mountains, used by everybody from miners and merchants, to the Taliban.

I stayed in Llata for the night. Dinner consisted of 10 kabob-like items that I purchased from a street vendor. Grilled meat on a stick is always a good idea, and although the meat was a bit tough, at .17 cents each I cannot complain. Plus, it tasted great.

The best hotel in town had shared bathrooms (surprisingly clean for what they were) and the lock on the room door was a padlock on the outside, and a bolt held in place by tape secured the door from within the room. I wasn’t too convinced, so I pushed a table against the door.



The next day we headed to Hunauco (5 hours away), then spent the night in Cerro de Pasco (three hours from Huanuco) en route to Uchucchacua.



To Huanuco and Cerro de Pasco

Cerro de Pasco is not the specimen producer that it once was, and its reserves are expected to run out within the next 25 years. As we neared the city, we began to see more and more trucks hauling mining equipment and ore. The roads near the city are paved, presumably by the private mining companies that operate the numerous mines around the city. While privatization means increased efficiency, sadly, it also means fewer specimens.

Many of the squares scattered throughout Pasco pay homage to its mining heritage—small monuments and statues of miners can be seen everywhere. Men dressed like firefighters, with reflective yellow stripes are also a prominent feature in the city—these are the miners, walking back home in groups, or off to work.



Uchucchacua and Oyon

At 6:00 am we set off for Uchucchacua. About an hour out of the city, the car suffered an electrical failure and we were stuck on the foggy, frosty pampa. It was quiet, except for the odd truck passing by every 20 or so minutes, and the occasional plover-like bird squawking away.

The driver tried to fix the car, but after an hour gave up and radioed for another one, which took an additional hour to reach. Of course, I used the two hours to wander around and take pictures—the landscape is beautiful, despite the fog. To see the real beauty however, you have to get close to the ground. In this desolate landscape, hundreds of species of lichens and mosses have had years to grow and colonize undisturbed. The ground is covered with thousands of interesting textures and color combinations, a couple of which are shown below. We also found a boulder on the side of the road covered with iridescent goethite, presumably from one of the many nearby mines, and took a few minutes to collect specimens.



We were just wrapping up the goethite when the car came around 9:00 am. By that time the fog was lifting, and we were free to continue. Uchucchacua was about 3 hours away, past gold, silver and copper mines. Who would have guessed that such an empty place could hold so much wealth?

We stopped at a trout farm for some fresh fish along the way.





There was nothing to be had in Uchucchacua, but the scenery was amazing. I was surprised to learn that this remote mountain was the place where all those beautiful rhodochrosites and silvers had come from. The following pictures are of the mining complex, and the adjoining mine workers' housing, a series of dorm like buildings. The mine is actually located under the same mountain which the highway passes over, so as soon as you get over the mountain you begin to see the mine facilities. The specimens pictured here were purchased later on, as things at the mine were bleak.

Good mineral pockets are only encountered every few years, and as at other large private mines, specimen removal is strictly prohibited. Of course, that doesn't stop enterprising miners from sneaking out a piece, now and then. With the baggy reflective jackets they wear, there are certainly plenty of places to stash them.







From Uchucchacua it was on to Oyon, where I spent the day “touristing” around. It was Sunday, and the miner’s only day off. Being the nearest city to “‘Chacua” as it is locally called, Oyon is the obvious destination for the mine workers on their one day off. Oyon is where the bars, girls, and all important bingo game are.

The bingo game is a big deal—a crowd of at least a couple hundred gather in a soccer field, and the numbers are announced through a loudspeaker.



Back to Lima

That night I left around 9:30 pm for Lima. At 2:00 AM the bus encountered a roadblock. Apparently the government wants to transfer ownership of large tracts of land from small sugarcane farmers to large foreign companies. The farmers had “borrowed” a large bulldozer from one of the sugar plants and used it to push massive boulders into the road at intervals of approximately 1 km. We all got out of the bus, and a few minutes later a pickup truck filled with armed men arrived, pretending to be police. They told the group that it would be difficult to continue and that it might get messy if we encountered the protesters. In actuality, they were affiliated with the people who had blocked the road, and were only trying to intimidate. Half the people turned back, but because I had appointments in Lima and a plane to catch two days later (in Latin America, these blocks can last for days), I decided to walk to the next town with another group. We walked several km in the middle of the night, and moto-taxied (the Peruvian equivalent of the auto-rickshaw) several more. Somewhere along the way, we passed by the protesters, said our good mornings, and continued on without a hitch. For a couple km, we hauled potatoes for some women who were also stuck, until finally at 5:30 am we reached the next city. From there it was a three-hour bus ride back to Lima.



All in all, it was a good trip. Despite the sometimes lacking accommodations, dirt, ice-showers, roadblocks, etc., I acquired many specimens, saw a few localities and made even a few friends. It was a lot of fun, and I got to see many beautiful places. I think I’ll be back again soon, but this time I’ll be better prepared. The first trip is always to learn.

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