By Yenny Escalante Flores | 2025-05-28

TIPUANI, Bolivia -- The water reaches his chest, some days his neck. Fidel Veliz, a 36-year-old veterinarian, hesitates before each step through the murky, stagnant water that now covers what used to be his street.

His house is underwater. His cats, now living on the rooftop, are the only reason he returns every day and a half, bringing food, affection and memories of the life he lost.

This scene unfolds in Tipuani, a gold-rich town eight hours from Bolivia's capital, La Paz.

Once nicknamed the "Gold Capital," Tipuani has been overwhelmed by unchecked mining operations, most led by Bolivian cooperatives backed by foreign, mainly Chinese, capital.

Torrential rains and the reckless redirection by miners of the Tipuani River have submerged neighborhoods, destroyed houses and collapsed infrastructure. More than 70% of the town's 7,600 residents have been affected.

Locals say they are drowning in government neglect, environmental devastation and the consequences of a chaotic mining system that benefits foreign investors far more than it does local residents.

'We're living in sewage'

On a January morning earlier this year, the river burst its banks without warning. Within minutes, adobe houses crumbled, businesses were swept away and some residents lost their lives.

"My house, my business, everything collapsed last year," said Roger Viadez, president of Tipuani's Central neighborhood. He managed to evacuate his family just seconds before the walls gave in. He spent two months sleeping in the town square.

Viadez rebuilt his house with bank loans, only to see it flood again months later. "It makes you furious. The authorities know exactly what's happening, and still, they do nothing," he told Entorno.

Viadez now navigates a toxic stew of river water and raw sewage on a raft fashioned from a table, ropes and foam blocks. The water is not just from the river; it is mixed with raw sewage. Tipuani has no sewer system, so when it rains, wastewater flows backward into the town.

"We're living on top of filth. People are getting sick," said Viadez.

A foreign hand in the ruins

Tipuani is home to about 15 registered gold-mining cooperatives. But residents point to six in particular that have partnered with foreign investors, mostly from China but also from Colombia and Germany. These partnerships, often informal, are blamed for some of the worst environmental damage.

"The Chinese make private deals with the Bolivian cooperatives, sometimes for five or 10 years," said Rufino Chambi, head of Tipuani's neighborhood councils. "But if things don't go their way, they just walk away."

According to Chambi, these investors take roughly 70% of the gold profits, leaving only 30% for the Bolivian side.

"They've been here for almost four years and haven't left a single paved road or public work behind," he told Entorno.

Viadez, the head of Tipuani's Central neighborhood, added that these are not even official companies. "They don't register, don't pay taxes and don't invest in the community. They just extract the gold, take it to their country and leave," he said.

Heavy machinery, excavators, dump trucks and backhoes roar day and night just steps from residents' houses.

Massive sediment runoff has also raised the riverbed to the same height as the town.

Now, whenever it rains, the river does not just flood: it flows directly into Tipuani's streets.

Along the way, several mining exploration sites were visible. Only a few Chinese nationals could be seen at the work camps.

Most are investors who isolate themselves from the local community, reinforcing the sense of a distant and opaque foreign presence in this Bolivian mining region.

Rising waters, rising frustration

Tipuani residents have begun pushing back. On a recent weekend, members of the town's Civic Committee and Social Oversight Commission attempted to confront a new mining firm, Lin Qin SRL. But the company canceled the meeting at the last minute.

"People are tired of being ignored," said Gimena Pérez, a local leader. "We're not against mining, but it has to be responsible."

Pérez, like many others, lost her house in the flooding. She pointed to submerged cars and crumbling houses. "You can't eat gold. Future generations need to understand that."

In May, a 17-year-old boy died when his vehicle plunged into an abandoned mining pit.

"The path wasn't supposed to go there," said Norma Espejo, his grieving aunt. "It's the cooperatives' fault. We've been fighting them for years."

'I sleep on a table'

Tipuani's mayor, Fernando Vera, confirmed that 15 cooperatives are registered in the area. But behind them, he said, are at least six major foreign investors, most of them Chinese.

"They come, they work and they leave. We ask for their work plans, but they almost never follow them. And when we try to intervene, the people themselves defend them," Vera told Entorno.

Vera, himself a cooperative member and businessman, said he has tried to enforce the law but gets little support. "It's like swimming against the current."

The town has spent almost $75,000 on emergency pumping, but the water keeps coming. Giant mining ponds have turned into constant sources of leakage. One bridge has already been swept away.

Gold and ruin

Tipuani's residents are not asking for mining to stop; they rely on it. Almost 90% of the town depends on gold extraction for survival. What they demand is regulation, accountability and basic infrastructure.

"We just want them to fill the pits and not leave open wounds," said Viadez.

As the Civic Committee walks through what used to be neighborhoods, a jeep speeds past. Four young Chinese men sit inside, watching from behind tinted windows. They are rarely seen at mine sites.

Irony has struck. The houses rented by some of those Chinese have flooded, locals say.

Photographing the mines is almost impossible. Workers are quick to intervene. But the damage is visible everywhere: submerged houses, blocked roads and residents left to face the rising waters alone.

Veliz, the veterinarian, has sent his partner and child to La Paz. He now sleeps in the remains of a technical institute that was damaged, not destroyed.

"I stayed behind to look after the cats. They're all I have left here," he said.