Thank You Internet - Globalization 3.1

I had to come out of blogging retirement for this one. Michael Jordan came out of retirement a few times... Why can't I?

Seriously though - this post possesses the power to change your life, that's why I'm writing this. It's the secret! It's not really The Secret, and it sure as heck ain't the Landmark Forum, that's a different post altogether!

It's the empowerment of the individual (YOU!), more and more with every second and byte that flies by us. I'm referring to Globalization. The World is Flat: A Brief History of the 21st Century, by Thomas Friedman opened my eyes years ago, but it wasn't until recently that I realized how it has and will continue to shape my life.

Friedman presents social and economic globalization in three stages:
1.0 - Nations and Governments reach out and establish the trade of goods and form alliances.
2.0 - Companies expand in the creation of global markets.
3.0 - The "playing field" is leveled with increased access to technology, specifically the internet;
allowing individuals to compete in global markets.

This youtube video is an example of the power at your fingertips, literally. Anyone with access to the internet can sit-in during Friedman's presentation to a tuition paying crowd at Yale, the school where Friedman's kid studies.

"The book was better" applies here... You have to read the book! If you don't think you'll get around to it, just watch this.

This blog is another example of globalization. An average Jose like myself can become a pamphleteer by creating or sharing media in seconds. Quite the jump from being the ONLY student to submit typewritten assignments when "typed" assignments became mandatory. It's not the best example of globalization's life changing effects (read "lucrative") on an individual or business, it's only a tiny speck in the big picture.

Job seekers don't walk door to door filling out "applications" anymore. Job listing sites like monster.com allow you to fill out one application, distribute that to companies listing employment vacancies, then follow that up with an interview on Skype conference. Most impressively, you can accomplish this in one day. Job seekers can use fewer resources and apply to more companies while employers receive abundant responses to skim through. I've been on both sides of that one; having to bcc my resume to email lists I compiled for different positions like administrative assistant, bookkeeping, shipping management (you can make ok money if you learn to use UPS WorldShip and FedEx Shipping Manager, you gotta start somewhere!!!). When I needed my own assistant, I did the cheapest and easiest thing I could think of, which coincidentally was how I found a lower level position with the same company. I posted an ad on craigslist.org, my inbox was flooded overnight. (Off topic: Some people need more than 24 hours in a day, I understand that. I sometimes have to work until the wee hours of the morning, it's cool. Props is you have that type of work ethic, but you don't communicate with people at those hours. Sending your resume at 2:30 a.m. can make people think that you're either a vampire or a party animal. Neither of those are good choices for businesses operating during regular business hours.) You can apply this to other situations also, as noted by Andre 3000 in this song.
Do you remember waiting for a response in the MAIL???

How do you get off the bleachers? I have no idea, that's for you to figure out. If you posses special skills that distiguish you from the "average Joses" of the world, you can promote yourself on the internet and offer your services or products worldwide. If you're bilingual, you can teach a language with skype and receive payment with Paypal. You can sell anything you make on sites like ebay or local listing pages. Soulja Boy Tell'em blew up on youtube, go on there and do something. If you think you're funny you can post skits or stand up routines on YouTube.

"Before you re-up get a laptop
start a business for yourself, boy set some goals
make a fat diamond out of dust and coals"
B.O.B. - Outkast

I can't help wondering what the next level of globalization will be, or it it will be the "D" word instead....

Business in Honduras - The Honduran Worker Part 1

B.O.B. (Bombs Over Baghdad) - Outkast
"before you re-up, get a lap top. Make a business for yourself, boy set some goals. Make a fat dime out of dust and coals"

I've spent countless hours discussing the problems with business in Honduras. I've spent even more hours studying "Business in Honduras". No not studying business at a university, I've been studying business here with a more "hands on" approach. I'm not an economist or expert on local business, but I can say that I have spent some time in various levels of business in Honduras. I also like to claim that Polache and the undercover boss T.V. show kinda jacked my idea, but I'm not worried about it because I've forgotten better ideas than that!

I've worked (for short experimental stints) as a cattle herder and yard worker in San Manuel and a coconut vendor on the beaches of Tela. Through these "internships" I gained valuable insight about the type of work that most Hondurans depend on and the living conditions they retreat to after work. I've worked as a teacher at a private school, which has allowed me to understand some of the flaws in our educational system. I've managed "accounting" departments for a resort and small retail chain, with terrible timing, as I learned how political sanctions (during the "coup") on an already impoverished country and a dwindling economy (world and local) can hinder business. My tenure as the manager of a hostel granted me understanding of the tourism industry and it's importance to our economy. All of these jobs gave me an opportunity to study the common procedures, or lack thereof, that are practiced (or not) in most businesses. More importantly, I've been blessed with the opportunity to discover what being "Honduran" really means.

Regardless of what industry you discuss; agricultural, tourism / service related, educational, manufacturing, etc..., EVERYONE has one common complaint: the workforce. No one voices that complaint louder that Gringos. I even complained about the same thing when I first arrived in Honduras (and still do sometimes). Gringos (and I) are accustomed to business in the U.S. and other developed nations. Nations that provide its citizens with top notch education and even work training for free. In these countries, everyone has an opportunity for advancement because hard work and dedication can level the playing field for anyone. Even people from trailer parks and the projects can climb the ladder if they have the will for it. It may be difficult, but nothing is impossible. Unfortunately, that's not the case in Honduras. We don't have many of those "feel good" stories about the Mc Donald's employee ending up as a Regional Manager. There is no opportunity for growth here, only survival. It's unreasonable to assume that people in Honduras will approach work with the same dedication.

"Hey, I started out mopping the floor just like you guys. But now... now I'm washing lettuce. Soon I'll be on fries; then the grill. And pretty soon, I'll make assistant manager, and that's when the big bucks start rolling in." - As funny as this seems, it's more than most Hondurans get!

Gettin it by Too Short
"Get your kids in school, so they can get an education, get a degree and take a vacation."

Getting paid and working conditions!
I've never been able to understand how people can survive on minimum wage (In the US or Honduras). When I lived in L.A., the California minimum was $8.00 per hour. This is based on a 40 hour work week, paid sick days and vacation time. California law also mandates two breaks and overtime pay; one 15 minute and one 1 hour lunch break per 8 hour shift in addition to overtime pay for work exceeding an 8 hour shift (time and a half after 8 hours and double pay after 12 hours). Minimum wage pay doesn't provide enough for a family to live on, but a single person gets by with approximately $1,000 / month. My rent alone surpassed that by $600, "that's crazy (Say it like Tracy Morgan)!!!" Even minimum wage employees in the US strive to do their best on a daily basis because you can stand out and snatch that opportunity to grow.

When I arrived in Honduras, minimum wage was Lps. 3,500 per month. That's $185.23 based on a 46 hour work week, usually with no breaks, no company sick days. Based on a 26 day work month, that's Lps. 134.62 ($7.12) per day with only four days off per month!!! Now factor in the travel expense of Lps. 20 - 60. Dayyyyuuuuum!!! The only way you can get compensated for sick days is by paying into social security (from that whopping salary), which employers detest. Overtime pay is a foreign concept even to the Gringos here. I've witnessed employers demand and expect (not request) an employee to work double shifts and compensate that second shift for a lower rate than their normal pay. In some cases, employees receive absolutely no compensation for working extra hours. Think I'm fibbing? Check out this article from the Bay Islands Voice (Click Here)

The Honduran minimum wage has been raised to Lps. 5,500 per month. A substantial increment (57.14%), but still far from enough for anyone to survive on. At first, I was completely opposed to the sudden increase. I worried about the negative effects on small business and the lay offs that would follow. Some businesses had to close their doors, some decided to lay off employees and extend hours for the ones that remained in order to survive. Other businesses decided to disregard the new laws and STILL pay less than the minimum. In some cases employers exploited the desperate need of employees by extending their hours and refusing to pay them a fair rate for the extended hours. They actually benefited at the expense of the labor force. So now, one person works twice as much and the employers pay less than what they would pay two people.

With these working conditions and compensation rates, it's no wonder why our economy is so dependent on remittances from our people in the U.S.

Our other sources of income stem from the exportation of produce (mostly bananas and coffee), tourism, and the slowly growing textile production or "maquilas". Ironically, these industries are the most infamous for exploiting and mistreating the Honduran workforce. How can we expect our agricultural, textile and tourism industries to grow if we mistreat the workforce that these industries are dependent on?

Do we really expect to diversify our economy with "call centers" and new production if we haven't been successful with the industries we've relied on for years?


From personal experience:
I worked at a resort as the Accounting Manager, I also lived there (For free? Hell nah!!!). When I arrived in May 09, my first task was to "close out the fourth quarter for 2008". WTF!!!?!?!?!?!

Let me put it in perspective: We were then in the second quarter of 2009 and I had to close out the last quarter for the previous year. This means that I had to generate maintenance billing (without any record of maintenance work or expenses) for October - December in 2008, and distribute rental income to the owners of the rental units. It is safe to assume that all the owners were pissed about the uncertainty of their rental income. Don't get it twisted, I wasn't being asked to solely focus on 2008's 4th Q, I also had to work on 2009's 1st Q and all the day to day responsibilities that go along with managing an accounting department AND trying to develop training material for my department (I was silly enough to think I would have time for that).

On many days, I would be in my office at 5 A.M., trying to get a jump on things without any interruptions from the day to day routine or co-workers. At 7 A.M., I would head to the restaurant for breakfast. On many occasions, I arrived there to realize that none of the servers came to work in protest of terrible treatment from superiors or they had simply quit. Always having my employer's best interest in mind, I would decide to tend to the restaurant customers vacationing at the resort so they didn't leave with a bad taste in their mouths. I would sometimes do so until 10 A.M., when the employees designated to the afternoon shift would (be pressured to) show up to cover for the absences (for no pay, of course).. I would then return to my office and often work until 9 P.M. (or later), eating my lunch and dinner at my desk.

Guess what I received in return for my work and dedication? It's not compensation for extra hours, guess again... No, not a "Thank you" either, try again... I was faced with penalty threats and insults!!! Nice...!

Getting unpaid - Penalties!
At the private school I worked at, speaking in Spanish was a $5.00 fine!!! I was supposed to teach British Literature to kids that didn't speak or understand English. WTF?!?!?!

It is common practice in Honduras to penalize employees for mistakes. At one place I worked, I was penalized $3 for voiding a check, even if it was the boss' fault!!! I was also penalized for failing to deduct an absent day from someone's pay, that same absent day was then deducted from the employee's next paycheck. So the employee missed one day of work, and two days of work were deducted from two different employees. Huh?! At that same place, I witnessed waiters and cooks being charged the sales price of menu items ($7 - 15) that customers were not satisfied with or even if they changed their order. Broken glasses and plates also resulted in fines. In other countries, these losses are accounted for as business expenses, not an employee's personal expense.

Lets think about this in numbers: If someone is getting paid $7.12 per day and gets penalized $10 for a returned order, the employee is working that entire day and a portion of the next day for FREE and the restaurant is still making a profit on their dish. Am I the only person thinking "modern day slavery?"

Prestaciones!
Prestaciones is the Honduran version of severance pay. Employers cringe at the sound of this word and are willing to jump through hoops to avoid paying them. Honduran employers seem to pay them, while foreigners would rather pay others to "fix" the problem with legal intimidation. Before becoming aware of the business practices in Honduras and living conditions of the general population, I was opposed to this concept. But now, after familiarizing myself with the work and living conditions, I'm all for it. In most cases, Honduran's only have what they get every pay day.

Imagine a Honduran with zero savings quitting or being fired. What do you think they will resort to with no work? Think hard... nothing yet? Well marinade in Kanye West's quote for a few minutes. This is from the song, We Don't Care; "We forced to sell crack, rap, and get a job"... That's in the hood, now imagine that same mentality adapted to the third world... What do you get? I think it would go something like this: We forced to sell crack, rob, extort, kidnap and hope for a job...

You may ask, "Why would someone accept this treatment?" Again, most Hondurans only have what they are going to be paid and that is it. We live our lives accepting that we have no rights. No freedom of speech, no employment rights, no legal rights, and to top it off - all our public officials have been bought.

My respect to all the Honduran's that continue to work honestly despite these conditions. To all the Honduran's that have decided to resort to crime, "I undastand"...

IZZO by Jay-Z
Like I told you sell drugs - No! / Hov' did that so hopefully you won't have to go
through that

Don't Feel Right by the Roots
If you ain't tryin' to get popped, then give me a option

Part 2!!!
I haven't started writing part 2 of God know how many, but it will focus on stealing... That's another common complaint from Gringos, in the words of TWO of my former employers, "Every Honduran steals." Apparently these people were not familiar with the saying "When you point a finger, four point back at you" or the fact that I too, am a Honduran; so you're spitting in my face when you say that. Maybe by that time they had forgotten that when employing me, one of the first things, if not the first thing, that I was made aware of, is the fact that they "have two sets of books; one for the Government and one for the business." In other words, tax evasion.

Are they stealing from the Honduran worker? Are they stealing from the average Honduran family? Are they directly influencing the quality of education that Honduran's receive? Are they partly at fault for the poor preparation of the future workforce? YES! YES! YES! and YES! - tsk, tsk, tsk

Before ANOTHER Gringo attempts to argue that they prefer to "keep that money rather than give it to the corrupt politicians because their money is used for better purposes." I have to say, that's like the pot calling the kettle black... Who determines whether or not your "charitable contributions" (that will be used as tax write offs in the US) really benefit the Honduran people? It's no big secret that some "charities" are the source of income for many of the foreigners running them, and I don't know about you, but I haven't seen any of those Gringos living like Hondurans...

I do have to state that some people genuinely try to help Hondurans by setting up REAL non-profits, but not all...

Every company I've done accounting for in Honduras has an expense account titled "Theft Loss", so yes, SOME Hondurans do steal, but this also the rug that all the losses from poor management are swept under. Don't worry Hondurans actually stealing will also be discussed as to not disappoint the Gringos...

A Day in the Life of a Honduran - Selling Ice Cream

Although this is labeled as "A Day in the Life of a Honduran", I can't claim to have done this for an entire day. It only lasted for a few minutes, but I did sell ice cream. To my little brother, but a sale is a sale.

From Teguz

This will also be labeled, "You know you live in the ghetto when," Ice cream trucks compete against ice cream carts, cool points awarded to the cart vendors that have welded a bicycle to their carts...

From Teguz

Hurry up and pick kid, I'm losing sales here...

From Teguz

A Day in The Life of a Honduran - Herding Cows

Google maps images

I didn't expect to herd cows for my first job in Honduras. I arrived in May 08 and didn't immediately find work as I expected. Living in a little pueblo didn't help my efforts either. My half orange ("My better half" in Spanish,I don't get it) and I moved from L. A. to El Porvenir.

From a previous blog post:

This little town is in nestled in between hills and sugar cane fields of San Manuel, Cortes. Being the city slicker that I am, I immediately took note of how isolated this town is and said to myself “DAMN!” I knew my family is from a little village, but DAMN!!!

(I said it more like "DAAAAAYYYUMMMM!!!!")
Click here for entire post:

http://returningcatrachoreport.blogspot.com/2009/05/hittin-somersaults-without-nest-this-be_10.html

So you get a better picture of where El Porvenir is, take a look at the images below.
This is a close up of San Pedro Sula and El Porvenir at the same distance from Google maps.

El Porvenir is 35 minutes outside of San Pedro Sula, 45 by rapidito and an hour or more by chicken bus. I had no choice but to travel by bus because taxi drivers know better than to pick up passengers there. They wont even take you there from San Pedro Sula out of fear of being robbed (or worse) while navigating the desolate strech of road embedded by sugar cane fields that splits from the road to El Progreso. The piece of road highlighted in red on the first image is the "hot zone" or zona caliente, as dubbed by local media. This area is used to either murder people or dump limp bodies that were murdered elsewhere.

Finding work became impossible; I didn't want to move to San Pedro Sula without finding a job first and employers in SPS don't hire candidates residing outside of the "casco urbano". By this time, my "media Naranja" was understandably growing frustrated with our surroundings (possibly me too) and home sickness (or being sick of Carlos) made her go back to L.A. three times in the first couple of months. The last time she went away for over three weeks. I feared she wouldn't return. I would have understood too. I decided to move, and arrived in Honduras three months after. I was amazed that she decided to join by extending her fiancee contract agreement instead of opting out of it as a free agent. She had no time to plan for it, I unconsciously planned for decades.

The last time she left I became Atlas, carrying the weight of the heavens on my shoulders, wishing to become Heracles instead. The weight on my shoulders, represented by the tumultuous task that was finding work, became unbearable. I was being overwhelmed by the pressure I put on myself. I worried that I wouldn't find work or improve living conditions by the time Rosa returned. In the case she didn't return, I had to bounce up out of there anyway. During this mental and emotional struggle, I temporarily lost grasp of some of the reasons that drove me to move back to Honduras on impulse. I wasn't getting a taste of "Honduras Living", or getting to know "my people". I was in a place I wished to visit for years, my mother's little village, but I wasn't taking advantage of it.

Then... a revelation descended from the heavens, "WWLD?". What would "Los" do? I wasn't me anymore... I had to get back to ME. I thought about what would have become of me if I had lived there my while life. I came to the conclusion that I could very likely be in the same position; unemployed, alone, and lost. That was me, even though it wasn't. That same room, in that same village, that same day. I realized that it was time slow the wheels from Angeleno speed to Catracho speed.

I decided to join the only person in the village I befriended (not by lack of effort either) in his work. Byron, 20, is the nephew of a cattle farmer. Not like a Wild Wild West tycoon, they only owned 25 cows. Initially I didn't know what he did exactly. When I asked, he responded with "cuido las vacas" or "I take care of the cows". That didn't sound like he slaughtered them, so far so good. I told him I would like to "work" with him, for a day. He immediately responded with a burst of laughter. Our conversations usually consisted of me imposing some curiosity about life in Honduras and him responding with boisterous laughter.

C: Is there malaria and dengue here?

B: JAJAJAJAJAJAJAJA!!!! Of course

C: Do you brush your teeth with tap water?
B:WAAAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Obviously

C: Do you know what Dry Cleaning is?
B: JAJAJAJAJAJAJA!!!! You are lost (estas perdido compa)

C: Where can I get some trees?
B: JAJAJAJAJAJA!!! Follow me...

It was set. I was to work with Byron for 50 lps, half of his daily pay, 100 lps. FYI, that's $2.50 for a whole day of work, he earns $5.00 a day. That's tough cookies considering that a can of corn is more expensive here than it is in the states. He instructed me to join him at his uncles farm (more like a field with a fence around it) at 5 A.M. the following morning so we can milk the cows, he also said lunch would be provided. MILK THE COWS!?!?!?!? I don't know about all that! I didn't have a "Four H" club in my high school and I sure as heck never touched a cow. I would arrive fashionably late as to avoid milking cows. The rest of his day was built up by herding the cows while they graze and any other task he needs to take care of on the family properties.

When I arrived Byron had finished filling empty 1 liter soda bottles with fresh milk, tied bottles to rope and hung them over his shoulder and we were off. As we began our journey on foot, he delivered the milk and collected empty bottles delivered days before. There isn't much to do with the cows, they pretty much roamed in any direction they felt like. Byron complained about their eating habits. He asked "Why the hell can't they eat all this grass? Why do they have to go way up the hill to eat? It's the same gras!!!" By the time all the milk was delivered the grass grew to my torso and mosquitoes appeared to be flying spiders. These mosquitoes even big through jeans! After 4 hours of "herding", Byron called for a lunch break. He broke out a liter of Coke and four little bags of chips. That's it. That was our lunch. Needless to say, I was pissed. I didn't express my disappointment because I didn't want to offend him, but I was outraged. I later considered that he had already given me half of his pay, then used his half to buy our "lunch", leaving him with only a quarter of his regular pay.

After this hearty lunch, Byron told me he had to "chapiar" (clear a field with a machete) at his uncles house up on the hill. We arrived at the little house under siege by the grass. He went inside and brought out two machetes and a file, proceeded to sharpen the machetes and handed me one. While he did this I walked around kicking air and swinging my arms to keep the mosquitoes from biting. He gave me a quick training in machete skills. I proceeded to swing the machete like a bat at a t-ball. As expected from a city slicker, I failed miserably at my first experience with clearing a field. Pay attention to machete training to avoid back injuries or loss of digits.

We finally decided to head back to the village before sunset. I was dead tired by this time. We walked the cows back to the "farm" and to my surprise, many of the cows jumped over the fence to get back in. I didn't even know that cows can jump! He invited me into his home for dinner. Before entering he warned me, "I have three sister, if you mess with any of them, I'll kill you". ok... His sisters were nice and they CAN COOK!

After dinner I headed back home and began counting my blessings. I rolled something up, bumped some Talib Kweli and Kanye and began planning my take over on the world. That experience is just what I needed to "get back on the grind". I also decided that I would continue to try and experience a day in the life of a Honduran for research toward my 2039 presidential campaign. Seriously, well... maybe.

Month's later, a lady posted this on Honduras Living. Props to her! By this time I was living in La Ceiba selling coconuts on the beach. I'll write about that in another post.

> I have a challenge to those who think the average Honduran worker is paidenough. Take an average job working in a field or in a maquila, making the same average wage, for one month, all the time living in comparable conditions. Thenreport back to us on the adequacy of the average Honduran paycheck.>>

I love you for putting this out there. I'm actually doing this as research for my 2040 campaign. I'll start a new thread on it.Carlos M - La Ceiba - Not too good with a machete, cows or the hot sun...

My First Job - Carpet Cleaning Apprentice

GIT UP, GIT OUT and GET SOMETHIN' - Outkast

Although my first taste of employment wasn't fun, sanitary or voluntary, I learned valuable lessons during my tenure as a carpet cleaning apprentice. My stepfather Antonio, or "Toño", owned carpet cleaning equipment that almost materialized his American Dream and at the same time created nightmares for me. Since I was the oldest child in the home, I was expected to assist with any jobs that didn't coincide with school hours. Although I wasn't thrilled to help or bond with my stepfather, I always tried to do a good job. After all, I was getting paid. Peanuts, but it's the lessons learned that count at that age.

We traveled in his pick up and I awaited our arrival impatiently like Hussein Bolt waiting to burst out of the blocks. After helping unload the cleaning equipment and supplies I scurried into the work site and meticulously scanned the carpet for any small objects that may damage the equipment and pretreated stains. The main targets were staples, coins, nails (both kind, I'm gagging and the memories), and everything else that isn't dust or hair. At the same time Toño assembled his spin brush machine like someone putting a Harley Davidson back together. Milliseconds after the machine was put together he would always ask, "No has terminado?" and before that last tone in a sentence that identifies a question came out, he would proceed to shout in typical Honduran fashion "HEH!!! NO'MBE, NO ESTAS EN NADA! SI NO ESTUVIERAS ABRIENDO LA JETA YA HUBIERAS TERMINADO!" I don't know how you read "HEH!!!", but a million exclamation marks aren't enough to express his emphasis on that. I used to cringe at that sound. Every time he would burst one out I knew that was a penalty on my compensation.

Image from jccarpet.com

The following hour or so became pretty uneventful for me, I blankly followed Toño around trying to keep the electric cord off the carpet behind him. When the brushing was finished I hurried over to the vacuum machine and connected the hose and head piece, filled it with water rolled it into the room where the carpet was brushed last. Since the vacuum absorbs the fluids that were emitted from both the spin brush and vacuum (final treatment), it will require emptying a few times before the objective was completed. Alone at the bottom of the latter, I had to shoulder this responsibility. This led me to despise any customers opting for dwelling in apartments higher than the first floor in buildings without elevators. The dirty water aspirated was like yoo-hoo. I could barely carry the five gallon bucket to the street without resting along the way. On more than one occasion, I spilled the filthy water on already cleaned carpet.

The compensation was a slap in the face. My "allowance" was $5 a week (no I didn't grow up in the 50's, we were po' folks), but if I worked I didn't get an allowance. I only got what I earned. How much you ask? $5 bucks... If I complained, then I got a slap in the face, literally.

Antonio would always promise to leave his equipment to me so I can carry on with the "family business". I would always think to myself, "The moment you look away, I'm rolling these things off a cliff." I always pictured the machines being blown up by dynamite, or falling of the back of the pick up and rolling until they collided with a train. I remember being really embarrassed by having to work, unlike my school friends. I also dreaded being seen carrying the carpet cleaning equipment. I laugh at young vanity, I'm now proud to have worked all these odd jobs in my early years.

I don't remember how long I had to help with this, but it was longer than I would have preferred. This job sucked, but you have to start somewhere. A few years after this dude separated from my mom he put a little business together. He set up a computers, ads (fliers), and a dedicated phone line for it. He didn't know how to use a computer, or even what he would use it for so he called me up to help. I became his "office manager" at the age of 16. I guess that was my first "office" gig. I didn't know what to do either, so I began setting up a schedule from the phone calls, and making fliers on paint. I didn't like the guy much, but now I have a deep appreciation for him because he taught me how to work hard. It was his lessons that lead me to believe that it's better to "work smart, not hard".

Image from extracta.co.uk

So... Why were you deported and what gang were you in?

El Heraldo image

People aren't shy about asking these questions here in Honduras. If you're a returning Catracho you're either a deportee or crazy. After dengue, 2 armed robberies, a brief stay in a cell , and a few near-drowning experiences, I have to agree with my mother and label myself as crazy. I haven't seen any media coverage of "crazy" returning Catrachos so most people assume that everyone coming back has been deported, especially if you're young. In the defense of ignorance; La Prensa recently reported that 27,000 Hondurans have been deported from the U.S. in the first seven months of 2009 and the ICE doesn't try to deport people for "nuthin", unless you're Elian Gonzales. 58,000 Hondurans had their American dreams deflated last year. After seeing the numbers, I can understand why so many people impose these questions. Despite my understanding, it's still offensive.

I've had people ask me, "Why were you deported?" before asking my name, some people try to be smooth about it; they'll ask where I "was" before moving here. I may be exaggerating, but it feels like they're asking what jail I was in before being released for deportation. I was grilled about deportation at a job interview, once hired, I was expected to submit proof of non-deportation. Do you want page 193 from my journal or pictures of me at the airport without handcuffs? How would one go about proving a voluntary return to Honduras? I was thrilled to work there..... A "friend", more like acquaintance, finally asked about deportation after months of knowing me and was relieved to learn I had not been deported. She let out a sigh of relieve and said, "O.K. good, because my friend and I were wondering about that."

The other big question on the tip of everyone's tongue when meeting a returning Catracho is, "What gang were you in?" I met a lady running a dive shop in Roatan, after introducing ourselves and exchanging stories about where we're from, she said in her Texan (more like Tex-Mex) accent "Alright, take off the shirt and show me all them gang tattoos" All I could do is smile in return. She explained how she has met a bunch of deportees and yada, yada, yada, I wasn't listening much after the tattoo comment. I finished my cappuccino and "peaced out." I've since had great conversations with this lady and she even helped me find a house to rent.

My last boss asked me about being in gangs, or my little brother being in gangs or little cousins being in gangs. I thought to myself, "Tony?" When referring to where I come from he always says, "The east side of L.A. somewhere." The actual statement is funny, but the way he says it with his palms facing up, head tucked into his shoulders and a bewildered look on his face is hilarious! I doubt he's been there, I didn't even spend much time there. What movie is he getting that stereotype from? Born in East L.A. or A Million to Juan, both great movies by the way.

Did Dave Chapelle get asked crazy questions like this when he went to Africa? I guess he did, bad comparison, sorry. I'm always tempted to fulfill people's curiosity and answer with , "Yeah I got deported! I killed a man, no, two! [then I would proceed to bark in the person's face a la DMX. Yes, bark.]"

In further defense of people asking these questions, I have sometimes let myself go since my return to the motherland and sometimes look like this now. But still... That look's more like a sick bum than a criminal.El Heraldo image

New Job!!! Moving to Roatan

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"Cause every fourth quarter, I like to Mike Jordan ‘em" Jay-Z; Never Let Me Down (Kaye West feat. Jay-Z)



Being religious about setting defined goals for myself, I set a few goals with deadlines after arriving in Honduras; one of them was to relocate to the Bay Islands within a year of my arrival. With limited resources on hand, I had to land a job there first, otherwise it would be impossible to accomplish. I had a few serious opportunities to do it at the 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 month markers, but they kept slipping away for one reason or another. I was becoming a bit discouraged, but continued BCC-ing my resume to various companies listed on directories, websites, etc... I even used Honduras-Living, a very useful yahoo group for anyone residing, visiting, or considering relocating or investing in Honduras to fish for employment opportunities. This worked out marvelously, I was recruited by a few people on that group. During April, eleven months after my arrival, I interviewed with one company and almost landed a job, but no dice...Still. Shortly after, I received a response to one of my posts requesting my resume, I sent it and scheduled a trip to Roatan for an interview. Once in Roatan, I interviewed and was asked to start ASAP. ASAP meant that day or the next, UNBELIEVEABLE! To me, this was like sinking a three point shot to win the game. No wait, to tie the game so I can demonstrate what I'm made of in overtime.

I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.
-Michael Jordan

You have to expect things of yourself before you can do them.
-Michael Jordan

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