Bolivia's man-eating mountain, Cerro Rico (13 photos + 1 video)
High in the Andes, in southwestern Bolivia, where the thin air almost cuts your lungs to shreds, stands Cerro Rico—"Rich Mountain." 
The Spanish colonizers gave it the name when they realized that it contained not just ore, but a vast abyss of silver. They believed the entire mountain was made of the precious metal. 
Cerro Rico, the city of Potosi, and a wind-powered stamping mill for processing ore. Engraving circa 1820
1545. A mining village grows at the foot of the mountain. Three million Indians were forced into the mines. Hundreds of thousands died—under rubble, from hunger, disease, and backbreaking labor. 
Almost five centuries have passed. The Spaniards are long gone. But in the ominous depths of the mountain, nothing has changed. 
Men and boys still die here. Landslides, cracks, sudden silence where a pickaxe was just hammering. Over the centuries, Cerro Rico has become so riddled with holes that the mountain resembles Swiss cheese, only incredibly dangerous. 
Mine entrance. Cerro Rico
It has already sunk hundreds of meters since the Spanish crown dipped its greedy hands into it. 
Historians estimate 8 million deaths since the 16th century. Opponents say the figure is grossly inflated, including everyone who simply left the region. 
But even if you reduce it by a third, it's still more than any city with a population of over a million. It's not for nothing that Cerro Rico is nicknamed "the mountain that eats people." 
The main killer here isn't a cave-in. It's silicosis, a miners' disease. It turns the lungs to stone. 
In normal mines, dust is knocked down with water from the drill. Nothing like that here. The dust flies back into the shaft, and every breath is like a sip of sandpaper. 
The result: scarring of the lungs, cough, fever, chest pain, weakness, and death. Surviving to 40 here is almost a miracle. 
The local widows' union reports that 14 women lose their husbands every month. Now there's almost no silver left in the mountain. 
Potosi, the city at the foot of the mountain, is slowly dying along with the mountain. But the mines are still working. 
Because someone is still going down. For money. For hope. For a piece of rock that will eat you, though not right away.
