The city clings to the mountains,
each year, it grows bigger. It won't be long
until it completely covers the summits. In La Paz,
the highest capital city in the world, A thousand meters of altitude
separates the wealthy and the poor. The poorer neighborhoods
are located at the peak, 4000 meters high, where the air is thin. On average, it takes a day for people
to acclimatize to this lack of oxygen, except, of course,
for experienced mountain women like Maria. Don Carlos? Can someone prepare my order please? Three bags of corn
and two bags like that too. Every fortnight, Maria comes to La Paz to stock up on goods
for her grocery store up in the mountains. The village I'm heading
to is hard to reach. Getting food supplies
is not easy, it's quite far. That's why I take everything there
so that people have everything they need. I'll load this up and come back. The grocer loads two tons
worth of goods into the truck on her own. If someone helps me, I have to pay them. I have no choice,
I've got to get by on my own. Maria sticks out
like a sore thumb in Bolivia. She is one of the few women
to drive in the mountains, and some men make her feel
like she doesn't belong here. Here on the right side of the road,
there are always people parking. The vehicle I drive is loaded to the brim,
so I can't brake easily. That's why I prefer keeping to the left. The men are reckless drivers. They don't let you through,
they don't give you right of way. They're really sexist. How many times
have they said to me, driving is for men, you should stay in the kitchen,
men drive, women don't. Men discriminate against me. This grocer could teach
these men a thing or two about driving. Bolivia is a rapidly developing country
which continues to grow. Thanks to economic reforms,
the government has never been so rich. However,
many roads are still in dire straits. Part of the blame lies with the various
dictatorships from over the years, which have delayed the country's growth. Look at how bad our road is. It takes courage to travel. Bolivia is home to some of the most
dangerous roads on the planet. If I go off course,
we'll fall into the ravine. As well as earning a living, Maria provides assistance
to isolated villages. They are companeros who are suffering
from poverty, like I once did. That's whay I risk my life for them. This poverty
is widespread in the mountains. Lourdes is also fighting it. She looks after gold miners, but going to the mines
is a gamble in itself. You travel with gritted teeth, you never know
if you'll reach your destination. Lourdes alerts women
to the dangers of pollution linked to the mining of precious metals. The mining companies work with mercury. Here we have cases of womb cancer. If you have money,
you can get treatment in town. If you don't have any, you're left to die. Due to these mines and loggers,
the environment is suffering. This ecological onslaught
is partly responsible for the disasters
that are ravaging the country. In the Andes, life is a constant struggle
that the Bolivians face every day. Maria is returning to her village. The back of her pickup truck
is loaded with goods. As she gradually scales
the Andes Mountains, the road disappears into the clouds. That guy's driving without headlights. It's a good time to bring out
the ram and make an offering. It's the best way to win
the good favor of the Altiplano gods. It's an old tradition,
I'm doing it to remember my ancestors. The route is getting
a little more difficult. The fog is covering my whole view,
you can't even see the road. The bends are the scariest part. I always drive very cautiously round them. Unlike some people. It's better to arrive late
and in one piece, than never. On the side of the roads,
the headstones of travelers who were too hasty remind us
that it's better to be safe than sorry. This accident has just taken place. The fall was dizzying. I think he must have fallen asleep,
he drove his car off the road here. Three people are dead, a family. Look, their cow is dying. There are always accidents here,
it's known as Death Road. There are several deadly roads in Bolivia. Before embarking on hers,
Maria is taking some precautions. I drove down in third gear
and my breaks have heated up a lot. When the brake pads overheat, the braking distance
gets considerably longer. Best to let them cool down
and take the opportunity to tighten the nuts and bolts in order
not to lose a wheel on the bumpy roads. Maria has learned to fend for herself. If I run into a friend
from the village, they'll help me. However, people who don't know me
will not help me. Maria is now leaving the asphalt to take on the dirt roads
that lead to her village, Sixty two miles across a sharp cliff edge. I got my driver's license because my husband
took a job at the town hall, and there was no one
to take me to town to do the shopping. That's why I got my license. When I paid drivers, they would steal
from me and didn't deliver my goods. At first, when I had just learned, there were times I had to drive at night, and that really scared me
with cars like that coming in front. I give them some room
because the track is very uneven, with ravines that are very scary. If you go off course
and fall down a ravine, I wouldn't recommend it,
you could lose your life. These days I'm no longer afraid
because I'm more experienced. Doesn't matter
if it's day or night, I'll do it. While the Lord gives me life,
I will continue to drive as much as I can. Maria is leaving the Andes
and its relatively cool and dry for the Bolivian Yungas. Where the weather is completely different,
a gateway to the Amazon. The Yungas is a suffocating cocktail
of heat and humidity, and it rains nearly all year round. It's sliding a lot, it' rained a lot. The road has got worse. There are potholes all over the place,
it's really difficult. All this water
does not only damage the roads, it also weakens the mountainsides. If it doesn't stop raining,
it will collapse again. The ground over there is very damp,
I'm sure the cliff is going to fall again. Between November and March, the clouds of the Andes
collide with hot air from the Amazon. This leads to torrential downpours
and wreaks havoc across the Yungas. It has caused hundreds of landslides. This is one of the deadliest. A witness caught the disaster on film. In March 2019,the first landslide on
this road made the whole track disappear. As the survivors cross it on foot,
the earth begins to move again. The disaster claimed the lives
of 70 people that day. Travelers are not the only victims. The inhabitants
of the Yungas also live in fear of their homes being swept away. The rain really causes us
a lot of suffering. Look at how bad our road is,
it's terrible. That's the way we live in our community. Nobody cares about us. We try to live
while our houses are collapsing, sliding. Look at how we live. Those who can afford it,
abandon the region. The others watch
a whole life's work gradually disappear because the mountain
doesn't always collapse at once. Each wet season,
Renee sees his field of fruit trees grow by several dozen meters. At this rate,
the Earth will have swallowed up his house by next year. The soil has grown by 100 meters. All my trees will be swept away,
how will I eat? This is my livelihood. The Bolivian state maintains
the roads as much as they can. However, it is impossible to strengthen
the several hundred miles of rock walls that tower above the tracks. Look how much has fallen,
and continue to do so. Lourdes takes this route
on a regular basis. Up in the mountains,
it's strictly fear and risk, this journey is dangerous. You travel with gritted teeth. You never know
if you'll reach your destination. A few days ago,
the road was cut off by floods higher in the mountains,
temperatures have risen. The snow has melted
and streams have become rivers. The river carries loads of rocks
and stones from the summits. Look, the water has washed
away the cement. Sometimes, when we travel
with our children we get stacks on the road and we have no idea
how long we'll be there for. Occasionally we've waited five days
straight for the water level to drop. Lourdes is traveling
to the Tipuani gold mines, 162 miles across the Yungas. Man's desire for riches is proving
to be catastrophic for the environment. All over the world,
forests and rivers are being destroyed in order to extract
precious metal from them. Those are the machines used by large
companies searching for gold. Lourdes is a former gold miner. She has set up an organization
that supports women who work in the mines. She tries to convince them
to give up this profession that will never make them rich
and more importantly, will leave them
in a very precarious situation. Miners live under an illusion. They think one day they'll find some gold. They tell themselves
the same thing every day. After 100 miles,
Lourdes is forced to change taxis. One, two, three, forty. Okay, let's head to Tipuani,
the City of Gold. Has it rained here too? Yes, it has rained. Because the road was completely
ravaged from Caranavi onwards. There were even mudslides. The road is in bad shape here, too. On this part of the route, only four by fours have a chance
of making it through safely. If it starts to rain, the road
will be as slippery as a bar soap. It's going to be a bumpy ride. While it seems the clouds
have decided to spare them today, the road has got a nasty surprise
in store for them. Dozens of cars
have been blocked by this truck. He's crashed, he skidded. The roads in Bolivia are disaster. A driver is taking the risk of towing it. It's a dangerous operation. The truck is stuck right
in the middle of an uphill turn. There is a danger
of it falling into the ditch. Let's pull it now. The travelers wait patiently. No one dares complain. The drivers know to stay humble. They could well be the next to get stuck. After three long hours of waiting,
Lourdes is on the road again, not realizing that the weather
won't be so mild in Tipuani. In recent years, severe climate change has made
traveling in Bolivia problematic. The country is a hotbed
for extreme weather events. In 2015, the second largest lake
in the country disappeared, dried up forever, while other regions
experienced devastating floods. Global warming is partly to blame, but it is exacerbated
by the deforestation of the Amazon. The great rainforest
covers some 40 percent of Bolivia. These loggers work legally, but they are doing
a lot of damage to the forest. In order to reach the finest trees,
they wipe out everything in their path. Within just two hours, they formed a trail
that's half a mile long. Luis is an Indigenous man
from the Tacana tribe. Wood is an essential source
of income for his community. Every day, he sees the results
of this reckless forest looting. The girth of this tree
is bigger than Luis. They had no right to cut down this tree. They've chopped it down,
taken one part and left the other, most likely because
they were startled and they fled. Fortunately for him, the tree he plans to cut
is still standing, but not for much longer. This is a Chamane tree,
an exploitable species. In La Paz they use them to make furniture. This one is between 25 and 28 meters high. It's commercial height
is between 12 and 13 meters. Is the coca ready? With their offerings,
the indigenous people ask Pachamama, the goddess of the Earth,
for her blessing to cut the tree. The forest is like our big house. Thanks to the forest,
we are able to eat and dress. We get everything we need
for our families from here. We as the Tacana tribe have a great
deal of respect for the forest. Today we have to cut down 20 trees. I hope I don't see you guys slacking. Chopping down a tree is no joke. Our friends have died doing it. You also need to watch out
for any creatures because when sawing you could get bitten by a poisonous snake. It takes just 20 saw minutes
to cut down this tree that took more than 100 years to grow. The 100 year old tree
will be sold for around $500. The main culprits
of the Amazon's deforestation are not independent wood cutters
like Luis, but rather illegal loggers and large landowners
who are constantly expanding their farmland by stripping the forest. Eight hundred and sixty five thousand
acres disappear each year. That's the equivalent
of 530,200,000 soccer pitches. Back in the Yungas,
Maria, the grocer, continues her journey with her truck full of goods. This is her 10th hour behind the wheel. Fatigue has set in,
and the road is not being kind to her. These dilapidated roads
are an ordeal for drivers, but others have found a way
to make money from them, as a means of survival. Here you are my dear,
so you can fill in all the potholes. They are poor families, so travelers offer a little something
for them to seal the ruts with soil so that there are no more water holes. The two young girls aged five and 13, take to the shovel
as soon as they finish school, and they are far from being the only ones. Many tiny hands are at work
all along this road. Their families work
a little higher up in the fields. Fathers, mothers, and grandparents
harvest the majority of their food. I've been harvesting potatoes
since I was a young girl. The work is very tough. We hoe the soil from 8 o'clock
in the morning until 5 p.m. We can't afford to live in La Paz, so we have to stay here. The families sell
any leftover potatoes to Maria. After 15 hours and 175 miles on the road, the grocer
has finally reached the village. She's only had a few hours sleep,
but Maria is already up. I've had hair like this since
my childhood, I've never cut it. As a woman,
I am proud of my hair and I do not cut it. It's part of me and part
of my grandmother's culture. It's a meter long. That's why I do my hair like this. If it wasn't for Maria's grocery store,
the 300 inhabitants of the village would be forced to drive for hours just to pick up schoolbooks,
accessories, or even a birthday present. Is this okay? Yes, that's fine. The shop has everything the locals need. Clients come here
and all ask me the same thing, and I don't like saying
that I don't have that. I'm a people-pleaser. That's why I do all these journeys
back and forth. We have mothers coming to us
for their children's school supplies. They say they want them to study properly. However, we can't go to the city center
to get them a notebook. That's why I bring them
these little things. This costs 50 cents,
it's for the little girls. There's no money here. In the past, people grew coca, which was collected
and sold every two months. It generated an economy. Then our president
banned us from doing it. Because of this,
a lot of the villagers moved elsewhere. People thought
how they were supposed to live there. Thanks to the coca leaves trade, the couple were able
to open their grocery store. [Foreign spoken audio] Maria and Juan
live far away from everything, but they're quite the modern couple. In Bolivia, women do not really
have a say in family matters, they often remain confined
to household chores. Unlike many men, Juan
is very proud to see his wife working. Two of our children work
and the other two are still in school. That's why my wife and I work together. I truly encourage my wife
to emancipate herself in life and work. It's difficult but everything is possible. The couple have not forgotten
their years of hardship. Back when they were farming
coca with the villages of a remote hamlet up in the mountains. A very strong bond unites them. This is why they risk the journey
of bringing back groceries. No road stands in Maria's way,
but there are still some parts where she prefers to leave
the driving to her husband. They are compañeros
who are suffering from poverty like I once did. That's why I risk my life for them. It scares me, it really does. However, once I've set off,
there's no turning back. When my husband isn't here, I do it alone. This section of the route
is also very dangerous. Numerous traffic accidents
have taken place on this road. None have been fatal,
but enough to send cars to the scrapheap. Reaching this village is always a risky
undertaking for the couple. Traveling on major highways
is just as risky. There are thousands of potholes,
some the size of swimming pools. The journeys are extremely tiring. Lourdes knows all about that. She is heading to Tipuani,
the City of Gold, and is having to change taxis
for the third time due to a mudslide that blocked the road. When she arrives, the river has risen. Part of the city is under water. It's been raining
almost continuously for days. My little nephew
came to me and said "The river", so I had to run, I had to go over there
to get out and save my son first. This whole road is the city's main street,
mostly made up of shops. Lourdes is in Tipuani
to meet some gold miners. With her organization,
she tries to persuade them to give up this job
that keeps them in poverty. However, because of the floods,
some families have left the city. The retired miner heads
to the banks of the river. Despite the flood risks, she knows
there will be women working there. It's a matter of survival. Along the way, the sights are appalling. The large industrial mines
that share the best deposits are taking slices from the hill,
as if it were a cake. All the co-operative work with explosives
and the land is spreading all over. As a result, the mountain is weakened. It's dangerous. The other day,
there were two excavator below that got completely
destroyed by a landslide. That is the Rio Grande, the Tipuani River. Those who cannot work
in the big commercial mines, work here. The sick, the elderly, the less able. There's not much left
to exploit on this side of the river. The miners are happy
to find the smallest speck of gold. Maria is 38 years old
and has worked here for five years. She's fighting to feed her two children. A speck of gold dust,
some more specks, half a gram, a gram. One day you find something,
the next, nothing at all. Sometimes you have to go hungry. These coca leaves
help take a mind off the hunger pangs. Most of these poor miners
work on the other side of the riverbank. They have more chance
of discovering gold there, but at a cost. It's twice as risky. This is the only way to cross the river. The current is too strong
to reach the other side by boat. The biggest danger
is not this rickety cable trolley. It's so difficult. The bank is situated
beneath an industrial mine. Families rummage
through its waste in the hope that there is still some precious metal. I have a small one, a speck. Risking their lives
for a speck of gold dust. The problem lies
in the water released from the mine. Every day, it poisons
another gold miner and their food. Whole families work like this. The issue is that the water
is highly contaminated. Mining companies work with mercury, which eventually
gets released into the river. Women don't know
how to protect themselves. Unless kitted out in full protective gear,
you will be exposed to the poison. Companies use mercury
to separate precious metal from the earth. The gold sticks to it and forms an amalgam
that is easy to retrieve from the bottom of a tank, except the liquid metal
is a scourge on the environment. It seeps into everything. Here we have cases of womb cancer. If you have money,
you can get treatment in town. If you don't have any, you're left to die. Such is the case for these two teenagers. How old are you two? I'm 17, and Alan is also 17. We've worked here since
we were 14 years old. He's sick too, he has tuberculosis. Your whole body aches, all your bones. Despite the ever present fear
that dangles over their head, families continue digging up
the earth with an unwavering faith. I see all these women
who have children suffering. That's why one day I'd really like
to find a big golden nugget. One that weighs 10kg. I'd sell it to help them,
to give them something. There are times when I pray
to God that he will grant my wish and save everyone from this poverty. Lourdes and her small association do not have the power
to get these families out of poverty. However, the former gold miner
hopes that one day she will succeed in banning the use
of mercury in gold mines. Maria, the shopkeeper and her husband
do not have an association, but their battle is just as commendable. They both risk taking a chaotic journey in order to rescue
a village from isolation. With their mobile store,
they spare the residents the ordeal of walking for hours
through the mountains. Except for the couple,
it's far from a walk in the park. Brake. Stop there. I'm going to go straight ahead
or else I'm going to tip over. This road is unbearable. Thirteen miles, and three hours later, Maria and her husband
can finally start unpacking. Before, Maria didn't come here. To get to the village below,
it took three or four hours carrying goods on foot. She's a good person. We are so grateful to her
for bringing all these things here. That costs 17 bolivianos. It's expensive. The couple don't do this for money. In the mountains, there's practically
no such thing as making a profit. Barely any can afford
to put food on the table. I don't make any extra profit here. I sell the potatoes for 30 cents,
the same price as my village store. Yet I transport them
from La Paz and then here again. That cost 5 bolivianos. You told me 4. No, it's 5. Do them for me for 4. No. Today in Bolivia, these courageous women
like Maria and Lourdes are breaking free from the old patriarchal system
deemed unthinkable up until a few years ago, they are becoming more
and more involved in politics, in society, and in the fight for the environment. Bolivian women have shown
that their place is firmly rooted in society equal to that of men.
