Last night I arrived late into Potosi and the festival (Macha /Tinku) that I came early for was that very same day. I would have had to leave Toronto a day earlier in order to just make the bus that left in the very early morning at 5:00am. It was worth staying in Toronto one extra day based on what I accomplished. I was also happy to share breakfast with my sisters and parents just before departing. Getting in late and entering Potosi at 8:00pm today also mean't that I would have to grab whatever hostel was available. The overpriced, dark and lifeless room that chose me didn't bring me down but only because I know that I could escape it the very next day. A general sadness encompasses the Potosi air but it's really no different then some of the dark corners that I've experienced in rural or urban Quebec. It's that general winter melancholy but without the snow. My heart is filled with a lot of hard joy being in Potosi but mostly because, throughout the years, it has become a second home. The former miners that give tours and who are the main source of my contacts amongst the mining community are my security blanket. When things are hard and I feel down or shy, I hide behind them and they protect me. Although they don't know this, it's the optimism they breed that keeps me balanced in Potosi. They don't know it but I owe them a lot.
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