Introduction

As winter advances and the earth dries out, the river-beds of Northern Potosi, which are a swirling trap for unwary travellers during half of the year, become an avenue of communication between the treeless highlands and the precipitous intermontane valleys that lie to the north-east. Hundreds of llama trains, donkeys and mules wind their way down in search of valley maize; the drivers stop for refreshment at temporary shacks that have been set up in the river-beds to sell bread and chicha to the travellers, and at night build huge fires in sheer exuberance at the quantity of wood. Families who for months have used virtually anything that will burn to keep their hearth alight now have the luxury of selecting only wood that has a pleasant smell. And when they return along the same route, a week, a month, two months later, they are so heavily laden that the journey takes twice as long as the downward one. Not only the animals are loaded to capacity: women will carry two or three large squashes in addition to the normal pack, and men bring ploughs or rafters on their shoulders.

The journey is hard. While the highlanders enjoy the change of scenery, the warmth and a different diet, they have to travel through the territory of little-known and sometimes hostile groups.