The Bolivian Diary (7 page)

Today begins a new phase. We arrived at the farm at night. The trip went quite well. After we got to Cochabamba, conveniently disguised, Pachungo and I made some contacts and then traveled by jeep for two days, in two vehicles.

As we approached the farm, we stopped and continued in only one vehicle to avoid arousing the suspicion of the neighboring landowner,
¹
who is muttering that our business must be devoted to manufacturing cocaine. Oddly enough, the ineffable Tumaini is apparently identified as the chemist of our group. On discovering my identity on the way to the farm during the second trip, Bigotes almost drove into a ditch, leaving the jeep nearly hanging over it. We walked about 20 kilometers, reaching the farm after midnight, where there are three workers from the [Bolivian Communist] party.
²

Bigotes indicated he was ready to work with us, whatever the party does, but he is loyal to Monje, whom he respects and
seems to like. According to him, Rodolfo is similarly disposed, as is Coco, but we should try to get the party to join the struggle. I asked him to help us and to refrain from mentioning anything to the party until the arrival of Monje, who is on a trip to Bulgaria; he agreed to both things.

We spent the day in the undergrowth by the creek, barely 100 meters from the house. We were pestered by
yaguasas
³
that were very annoying even though they do not bite. So far, there have been
yaguasas, jejéns,
⁴
mosquitoes,
mariguís,
⁵
and ticks.

Bigotes got his jeep out with the help of Algarañaz and went to buy a few things, such as pigs and chickens.

I was thinking of writing down the latest developments, but I will leave that for next week, when we expect the second group to arrive.

An uneventful day. With Tumaini, we explored the area following the course of the Ñacahuazú River (in reality, a creek),
⁶
but we did not find its source. It runs through a steep gully that is apparently mostly deserted. With appropriate discipline, we could be there for some time.

In the afternoon, heavy rain forced us to leave the
undergrowth and head toward the house. I removed six ticks from my body.

Pachungo and Pombo went off exploring the area with one of the Bolivian compañeros, Serafín. They went a bit farther than we had and found the fork in the creek, in a little gully that seems to be good. When they returned, they hung around the house and Algarañaz's driver saw them when he brought back the men and the purchases they had made. I blew my top, and we decided to move to the undergrowth tomorrow, where we will make a permanent camp. Tumaini can be seen, because they already know him and they will think he is just another farmhand. Everything is deteriorating rapidly; we have to see if we can at least get our men here. I will be more relaxed when they are here.

We spent an uneventful day at the new camp, on the other side of the house where we sleep.

The insect plague is a torment, and we have to shelter in our hammocks with mosquito nets (which only I have).

Tumaini went to visit Algarañaz and bought some things from him: chickens and turkeys. It seems he does not have too many suspicions yet.

A day with nothing new. We explored the area briefly to prepare the land where we will set up our camp when the six from the second group arrive. The place chosen is 100 meters
from the clearing, on a rise and close to a hollow where we could dig caves to store food and other things. By now, the first of the three groups from the two divisions of the party should be arriving. At the end of the coming week, they should make it to the farm. My hair is growing, although very sparsely, and the gray hairs are turning blond and beginning to disappear; my beard is returning. In a few months, I will be myself again.

Sunday. Some hunters went past our place—farmhands working for Algarañaz. They are backwoodsmen, young, single, and ideal recruits, who have an intense hatred for their boss. They told us that by the river eight leagues away, there are houses and some ravines with water. Nothing else of note.

A week at the camp. Pachungo is unhappy and finding it hard to adapt, but he should get over it soon. Today we began to dig a tunnel to hide anything that might be compromising. We will cover it with sticks and grass to keep it as dry as possible. First, we dug a hole one and a half meters deep, and from there began digging the tunnel.

We are still working on the tunnel: in the morning Pombo and Pachungo, and in the afternoon Tumaini and me. By the time we stopped working at 6:00, we had already dug two meters. We think we will finish it tomorrow and be able to place everything compromising in there. During the night, the rain forced me
out of my hammock, which got wet because the nylon cover is too small. Nothing else worth mentioning.

The tunnel is finished and camouflaged; now we only have to conceal the path; we will move things to our little house and tomorrow store them away, covering the opening with branches and mud. The diagram of the tunnel, known as No. 1, is in Document I.
⁷
The rest was uneventful; from tomorrow it is reasonable to expect news from La Paz.

The tunnel is filled with the articles that could be compromising for those staying in the house, along with some canned food; it is quite well hidden.

Nothing new from La Paz. The lads from the house spoke with Algarañaz, from whom they bought some supplies, and he insisted again that he be included in the cocaine factory.

No news from La Paz. Pachungo and Pombo went back to explore the creek, but are not convinced that this would be the best place for the camp. On Monday, we will explore the area with Tumaini. Algarañaz came to repair the track used to carry rocks up from the river; he spent quite some time doing this. It seems he is not suspicious about our presence here. Everything continues monotonously; the mosquito and tick bites are getting
infected and turning into bothersome sores. It is starting to get a little chilly in the early morning.

No news from La Paz. No news here; we spent Saturday lying low, as it is the day the hunters are around.

Marcos and Rolando arrived at noon. Now we are six. Immediately, they began to tell us stories from their trip; they were late because they received our message a week ago. They still came faster than anyone else, via São Paulo. We do not expect the other four to arrive before next week.

Rodolfo came too and made a good impression on me. Apparently he is even more willing than Bigotes to break completely from everything. Papi had told both him and Coco that I was here, violating instructions; it seems to have been a case of jealousy of authority. I wrote to Manila
⁸
with some recommendations (Documents I and II), and to Papi, answering his questions. Rodolfo went back at dawn.

First day of the expanded group. It rained heavily, and we were drenched as we moved to our new location. We are now settled. The tent turned out to be a canvas tarp used for trucks; it leaks, but gives some protection. We have hammocks with nylon covers. More weapons have arrived; Marcos has a Garand, and
Rolando will be given an M-1 from the cache. Jorge stayed with us, but in the house; he is directing the work there to improve the farm. I asked Rodolfo for an agronomist who can be trusted. We will try to keep up this front for as long as possible.

Tuma, Jorge, and I walked along the river (Ñacahuazú) to inspect the creek we had discovered. The river was unrecognizable after the rain from the day before, and it took a lot of effort to get to where we wanted—a little rivulet that is concealed just where it meets the river. With proper preparation, it could be a permanent camp. We returned just after 9:00. Nothing new here.

We set up a lookout from where we can watch the little house at the farm so that we will be alerted if there is an inspection or some unwelcome visitor. As two men left to scout the area, the rest of us did three hours' sentry duty. Pombo and Marcos explored the terrain extending from our camp to the creek, which is still flooded.

Pacho and Rolando left to explore the creek; they should be back tomorrow.

At night, two of Algarañaz's farmhands stopped by while “taking a walk.” It was an unusual visit. Nothing strange happened, but Antonio was still out exploring, as was Tuma, who officially lives at the house. Reason given: hunting.

Aliucha's
⁹
birthday.

News came from the lookout that a jeep with two or three passengers was approaching. They turned out to be part of an antimalaria campaign and left immediately after taking blood samples. Pacho and Rolando came back very late at night. They had found the creek that was on the map; they had also followed the river until they found some abandoned fields.

Because it was Saturday, we all stayed in our quarters. I asked Jorge to explore the riverbed on horseback to see how far it went; the horse was not around, so he went on foot to ask Don Remberto
¹⁰
for one of his (20 to 25 kilometers away). By nightfall he had still not returned. No news from La Paz.

Jorge still has not returned. I gave the order to maintain a watch all night, but at 9:00 the first jeep arrived from La Paz. Coco brought Joaquín, Urbano, and Ernesto, a Bolivian medical student who will stay with us. Coco left and returned later with Ricardo, Braulio, and Miguel, and another Bolivian, Inti, who also will stay. There are now 12 insurgents, with Jorge acting as owner; Coco and Rodolfo will be in charge of making contacts. Ricardo brought an unfortunate message: Chino is in Bolivia and wants to send 20 men and come to see me. This is inadvisable because it would internationalize the struggle before we can
count on Estanislao's support. We agreed that Chino could go to Santa Cruz where Coco would pick him up to bring him here. Coco left at dawn with Ricardo, who took the other jeep to carry on to La Paz. Coco will go by Remberto's place to see what happened with Jorge. During my first conversation with Inti, he told me he did not think that Estanislao would join the struggle, but Inti himself seemed determined to cut ties.

In the morning Jorge had still not shown up, and Coco had not come back either. Later they returned; all that had happened was that he had stayed with Remberto.

Rather irresponsible. In the afternoon, I met with the Bolivian group to discuss the Peruvian offer to send 20 men; everyone agreed they should be sent, but after the action had begun.

We went to check out the river and to explore the creek that will be the site of our next camp. Tumaini, Urbano, Inti, and I made up the group. The creek is quite safe, but very muddy. We will try to look for another one that is an hour away. Tumaini had a fall and apparently fractured his ankle. We reached the camp at night, after taking some measurements at the river. No news here; Coco left for Santa Cruz to wait for Chino.

Marcos, Pacho, Miguel, and Pombo set off with instructions to explore a creek farther away; they should be gone for two days. Heavy rains. Nothing new at the house.

Everything has gone quite well; my arrival was without incident; half the troops have arrived, also without incident, although they were somewhat delayed; Ricardo's main collaborators are joining the struggle, come what may. The general outlook seems good in this remote region and everything indicates that we could be here for practically as long as necessary. The plans are: to wait for the rest of the troops, increase the number of Bolivians to at least 20, and then commence operations. We still need to see how Monje reacts and how Guevara's people conduct themselves.