[385]  In August 1925 Bolivia celebrated its first centenary. In order to properly celebrate this birthday all encompassing measures were taken. The streets were torn up and paved with blocks [wurfelpflaster], two monuments to Bolivar and one to Sucre were erected, the town hall was decorated in an impossible Abbyssinian style. On the Prado  the stately, hundred year old eucalyptus trees were cut down because they seemed vulgar to Bolivian taste, and replaced with pitiful elms and poplars. The enterprise that received the eucalyptus trees in exchange for the planting made a marvelous trade. A Columbus monument, made of white marble, a gift of the Italian colony, was installed on the Prado, and further down, also of Carrara marble, the Santa Isabel, the queen who simultaneously with entrusting Columbus with the discovery voyage, signed the decree for the expulsion of the Jews from Spain. So, the city was in feverish activity, and there was much of interest for me to see. It was a city of contrasts. Next to airplanes and the latest automobiles one also met oxcarts, mules and donkeys. Llama herds were driven through the city, carrying partly ore, partly their own dung, called takia, which is still a treasured fuel. There were crowds of Indians in their colorful dress next to the brand spanking new new military uniforms in the german style. The president was Bautista Saavedra, who had deposed his predecessor with a government takeover; and chief of the general staff was the german general Kundt who suppressed an attempted revolt against Saavedra through a lighting march to the Chaco (region of Bolivian later lost to Paraguay) thus enjoying great favor.

Takken lodged me in the Hotel Rhemania, which no longer exists. It was a very inferior german hotel, while the swindlers tried to persuade me it was the best in the city. I got a miserable room on the first floor with stone paving, then , after some protest a better one in a higher story. It was June and I froze terribly (winter in southern hemisphere), the food was perhaps not bad, but when the waiter brought the soup with the thumb deep in it I was immediately satiated. I was nauseated at everything, and lost 20 kilos in the first month, which was good for me. Takken picked me up from the hotel to introduce me to the partners in the company who were in La Paz. The company which had me emigrate, consisted of only a small sign [firmenschild]. It was made up of Bolivian partners; the prefect of La Paz (later post master) Sebastian Estensorro, the prefect of Oruro Obersten Ayoroa, whom I never met, and who died of a mysterious death at the beginning of the Chaco war; the lawyer Vicente Mendoza Lopez, who is now a professor of law somewhere in La Paz. Of the European partners, Labahn sat in jail in Iquique, Kruger was in flight with the proceeds of sale of the typewriters, and Takken. He was a gentle man, dutch, with a pleasant voice and manner. He had a small shop on Comercio street, across form Kavlin, dealt in stamps, rarities, curiosities, state papers, and gold. If only one tenth of the stories about him were true, in any other country he would have been in prison. Here he was a respected rather than despised person.

The picture was clear to me, of what sort of people these were. I could not go back, so I had to get through it, in which I succeeded. Labahn had lied to the men that I had a complete laboratory in hamburg for ore analysis, which I was to bring with me, but I did not have it and did not bring it. I had my books, microscope, typewriter, and a lot in the head, but no lab. I made an offer to my partners and bread givers: "Since the capital shares of Labahn were free, to look for a new partner who would take over Labahn's share, with no money needed, but who had to have a lab that he could put at my disposal without cost, to permit the activities of the company in it. The combination worked. There was a frenchman, Jose Barrand Hesse who owned a large lab which operated brilliantly. It was the only reliable commercial lab in Bolivia. Barrand had studied in France and Germany, went back to France as soon as the war started, was wounded, captured by Germany, and after the war returned to Bolivia. He spoke german fluently, had a wonderful professional library in all languages, was a dedicated stamp collector, but also collected minerals, weapons. instruments, etc. He was a dignified, helpful person, liberal spender on himself, but not others. His lab was the largest I had yet seen. It was at the corner of Loayza and Prado, where Bolivian Power is located now, and across the street from the Bolivar monument that was being erected at that time. The main room formerly held three bowling alleys, 15 m long, 10 m wide, 6 m high. Then numerous rooms, a weighing room, library, out in the yard the furnace room. So I had a place to work.

I moved out of the hotel soon, and rented a small apartment with bath and WC for 120 bolivianos (then almost ten gold pounds) a month. I took my meals at Kutzner's, where many Germans would come and with whom I quickly became friendly; a family Harns, the secretary of the german embassy; Oberst Muther, Teacher at the military academy; etc. Kutzner had emigrated as a sanitation inspector for veterinary service, had officer rank, but put on the shelf during the Saavedra putch. He had very skilled hands for all animal illnesses, and was often called to consult, raised  german shepherds, and operated a pension with a lunch counter, a small restaurant, and so on. I went to the lab every morning and waited for my work orders, though they did not come. So I looked on and looked at what I could see. It was almost 20 years since I had studied. Almost all methods had changed in that time. When I visited Freiberg before my voyage to Bolivia, and I asked my professors about new tin methods, During refused to do so. So I had the opportunity to learn, which I did diligently. My orders were still not coming. I could not stand there doing nothing, so I started to help Barand where I could. Fortunately there was an area where the same method had been used for thousands of years, and had not changed since my time in Freiberg: Silver an gold analysis. I learned to handle the furnaces immediately, which were fired with petroleum rather than coke. And since there were plenty of silver determinations I was able to help Barrand in exchange for his hospitality. So I worked with pleasure after the years of rest and enforced laziness in hamburg. [393]

I had only been with Barrannde for two weeks, when he told me he had an offer to reform the Patino laboratory in Catavi. He would have to leave for there immediately, and take his two experienced assistants with him. Would I take over his lab for six months? He left me two Indians, one to wash glassware, Pedro; and the other to grind the ore, Viejo. He offered me 40% of the gross income. I was aware of my insecurity, but accepted the offer. So, only a few weeks after my arrival in La Paz, in spite of all the bad prospects I was in the saddle, and soon proved that I could ride.

Once each month Barrande came to La Paz. Unfortunately I did not subtract my 40% right away, but let it stand out, after all, I got 50 pounds salary from the company. I paid my rent and board, and my only other expense was cigarettes. Everything left I exchanged and bought English or American banknotes, with which I saved the funds for a return trip to Europe in a few months. With that insurance I worked more easily. Continuously I tried to get Labahn released, which finally happened. He came to La Paz from Iquique. It was apparent that he had gone very much downhill, drunk, and kept begging from me. Until his death he was dependent on me. I had a lot to do, there was still the boom in metals. Almost daily I left my apartment in the building of the coca-king Abel Soliz in the Santa Cruz before dawn, wandered by starlight into the lab, where I arrived at the break of dawn. I lighted the furnaces, and started work. Aside from bottle washing and ore grinding I had to make every, and I mean every, step of the analysis by myself. I learned a whole lot from this, since almost daily I made a majority of all the analyses I had done through my whole student time.

I earned 50 pounds from the company, almost as much from my share at Barrande, which I left outstanding. Things could not go on so well. It was not long before Mendoza Lopez of the company came to me. He declared that I did nothing for the company (which of course was not my fault), but worked for and earned from Barrande, and therefore they did not need to pay me anything, and on the contrary I had to pay them 400 bolivianos monthly for the privilege of working at Barrande. I naturally refused, and the company sued me. It looked pretty hopeless for me, against me were two prefects and the famous "justicia boliviana". I sought a way to protect myself. I put my books into Barrande"s library, my savings were in the safe of the german embassy, secure against seizure. At lunchtime the secretary of the embassy was instructed, in case of my absence, all measures were to be taken to free me in the eventuality of arrest. Thus I entered the year 1926. Barrande returned from Catavi, but became ill, so I continued working, at the same tempo. Often my lunch was brought over from Kutzner's and I would work till late at night, as well as Sundays and holidays. I learned nothing about the beautiful surroundings of La Paz, no trips to lake Titicaca or the mountains or the Yungas. Barrande recovered and came back to the lab. Almost at the same time the work slackened and there was no income. It was unpleasant, but there was no way out. The company had not provided anything for a long time, and at the beginning of the month I had to beg Barrande for money to pay for board and rent. Often he had no cash, and I had to borrow the money from my friends Kavlin. It was not a pretty situation, but somehow I got through it. The German embassy placed their attorney at my disposal, who freed me from the bonds of my company. We released each other mutually from any obligations. So I was free of my swindler band.

In June 1926 Grinja Falk (341) came to La Paz. In Hamburg he had already been unemployed for a long time. Rather than being on the dole, he had the choice going back to Latvia and doing military service there, which with total ignorance of Latvian, and the known difficulty of learning it, would have been quite a torment, or Emigrating to Bolivia. He decided on the latter, in which Miss Mess was very helpful. He stayed in La Paz a few weeks, and, since he could not tolerate the altitude moved to Oruro. My friend Harn, from the Kutzner pension, worked for the Firm Nolte, and he offered Grinja a modest position. [397]
 
Back to Top       Back to content           Next page: Hochschild