We took a tour of the mine, and we had to wear a raincoat, a hard hat, a battery, a heavy one at that, and a flashlight. We took a sort of train down into the mine, and about a hundred feet in, the train stopped and our guide said that anyone who was claustrophobic should get off the train and go back. I don’t think anyone got off the train, and we proceeded down into the mine. First, we saw some old machines they used to drill holes for the sticks of dynamite. Then he showed us the cage, or the elevator they used. There were a couple of bells and a chart that showed what the signals meant. He said that they would drop the cage a lot, especially when there were new miners. They would take them to the top, then they would drop the cage and it was “Good luck, kid.” They’d give ‘em the cure so they wouldn’t come back.
After that, Mom got a picture of us with our tour guide, Juan, who had been working in mines for the absolute longest time, which was thirty-six years! He’s eighty-six years old now! He told us to send him the picture. That was an awesome tour!
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