La Esperanza (Campo)

I've been traveling quite a bit as of late and have gotten to see some truly beautiful places.  To be honest, what I've seen is so captivating that I bought a motorcycle just to be able to explore it more.  One of my favorite places is the countryside (campo) above the town of La Esperanza.  This is the heart of potato country so I've been here a few times now.

This area is at an altitude of 1600 - 1800 meters above sea level, is perfect for growing potatoes, and is home to one of Honduras’s ethnic groups, the Lencas.  As Rynaldo and I rode up and down the hills we would see them walking to and from the small houses scattered across the hilss.  The Lencas are generally quite short but also very strong and hard workers.  The women wear bright headscarves that stand out sharply against the greens and browns of the hills and fields.  The children are especially small (logically so, I suppose) and sometimes I would see what looked like three or four-year-olds walking by themselves on their way to school.  Sometimes they’d walk with their backpack straps hanging by their forehead, just to be funny.

The land undulates up and down and the packed dirt road winds around the features.  Every so often we would stop to talk with a farmer or a group that we are working with.  We chatted with a farmer that was rocking a Real Madrid jersey (amazing), convincing him to leave his cows for a bit.  From there we moved along to a women’s group that weaves headscarves and blankets.  I talked with them for just a bit to get an idea of how they ran their business.  She was able to give me seasonal revenue, variable costs, fixed costs, and assets (plus depreciation).  I don’t think they had the concept of unit margin but they had all of the components.  Not bad.  We passed some more potato fields (blight, low yields, terrible harvesting (see photos below)) before arriving at a flower growing cooperative.  It was run by Lencan women and looked to be quite the operation.  They had a greenhouse and were growing roses for sale in late Jan / early Feb.  This looked like a pretty slick operation but I didn’t get that sense that they really had a killer business sense.  Even with the aid they had received, they were struggling to pay back a loan of 1% annual interest.  Seems like there should be something in the area that would return more than 1% in a year.

 

After leaving them, we passed through more beautiful country on our way back to La Esperanza.  The roads were rough in places and my legs and arms got quite the work out from functioning as primitive shock absorbers.  We got back to Rynaldo’s house and, after convincing his wife that I ate beans, meat, and tortillas, had an amazing meal.  Gorgeous day.

A Tale of Three Taxistas

I think we tend to think of countries beyond the US as being full of one type of person.  Or two types if we decide to consider males and females as different types.  This simplification can lead to quite a lot of problems.  Don’t worry though, I’m here to help.  I’d like to talk about three noteworthy “taxistas” to illustrate differences across one city, one neighborhood, and one job.

Eric: Eric is a young guy and works for a taxi company called All Days.  All Days is also the name of a popular bar here in San Pedro Sula; apparently the owner of the bar figured he had himself a captive audience and vertically integrated.  Interesting, but I digress.  The one time I rode with Eric, he showed up ten minutes late while I waited on the side of the road.  “Lots of traffic” he said as he swung the door open for me.  I hopped in and we were off for home.  He asked me where I was from, somehow knowing that I wasn’t Honduran, and I told him, “Seattle”.  “Oh, I know Seattle, beautiful”.  What?  Apparently driving taxi is only Eric’s October-November job.  Generally he works on cruise ships, hopping around the Caribbean and both coasts of the US.  He likes that it is work and that it allows him to travel but says it is hard.  It has taken him all over and has given him so really profound thoughts on the cities he’s seen: Alaska (yeah, who cares about Anchorage)? Cold. Seattle? Space Needle thing. Miami? Lots of discos.  That’s when we darted out of a long line of traffic to try to cut in ahead in front of other cars.

José: I’ve mentioned José before, or as my colleague Rynaldo calls him, el viejito.  He hangs out on the street corner by my apartment with another taxista, Carlos, and is usually there in the morning.  He starts work each day at 6 am with a steady client (a doctor) that he takes to a hospital in the southern part of town and then camps out on my street corner to find more business.  José has a heavy accent so it can be difficult to converse but I’m acostumbrandome (getting accustomed to it).  He has a wife, – she’s 60, he’s 63, cradle-robber – children, and grandchildren and seems pretty content with life.  I don’t know how long he’s been driving cab but, to judge by the state of his car, it’s been forever.  This thing is easily the oldest cab I’ve ridden in.  He has to open the door for me from the inside, both getting in and out.  There’s a trick to getting it to work that I haven’t yet mastered.  Fortunately I ride in the front with him so it’s no problem.  With all of the rattling and shaking it is a wonder we get to the office in the morning.

Javier: Javier is the taxista the office would like me to ride with all of the time.  He has a slick little import car from the mid-90’s that he keeps in tip top condition.  On the hood of his car he has painted a large star of David, which is interesting as he’s Christian, not Jewish.  He also attends Mi Shalom church, which is also Christian.  As a fake Jew, I wonder what his thoughts are on Resolution 242 and the current “peace” talks.  I'll have to ask.  He is young, probably late twenties or early thirties and has a wife and a brand new baby, Ananias.  He’s very trusty and always shows up on time or early.  He’s the friendly face that greets me when I come back to San Pedro after travels.  

I like seeing these different facets of the people in country.  It helps me to keep in mind that the groups I am working with also exhibit those same differences.  If they were all the same, it would be easier.  Probably a lot more boring though.

Efectivo. Dinero. Cash. Money.

I find money in other countries to be very interesting.  Money and how people react to it.  I was handed a beautiful 5 lempira note today and it got me thinking...

For example, at what denomination do people check to see if a bill is counterfeit?  In the US, I'd say this happens with hundred dollar bills.  Here, people crinkle, scratch and hold my 500 lempira notes up to the light.  This is roughly $25.  Almost without fail.  I've even had someone check my 100 lempira bill.  That is $5.

Also, when do people struggle or refuse to make change?  Here, it is at the $25 amount.  I've had taxis laugh and shake their heads when I try to pay with my $25.  Silly gringo.  

Another note (ha, get it?) -worthy aspect is to what amount the bills go.  Check out the most beautiful 25 cents you've ever seen.  After trading in all of my other cash I managed to snag some 5 cent notes also.  

 

Lastly, just how little buying power does the treasury bother minting?  If you thought a penny was worthless let me introduce you to the half and quarter penny.  

 Apologies for the poor pictures, the g11 is still out of commission.

Thes is Touching

No, I didn't misspell "this".  It is a little wordplay related to something I find touching: the accepted way to start a thesis in C. America.

I was reading about the golden nematode today and was using two excellent theses when I noticed something odd, personal dedications at the start of each one.  After the title, the writer dedicates his thesis to people: his parents, brothers, cousins, grandparents, friends (I'm not making this up), in-laws, nieces and nephews, and finally, to his girlfriend.  I thought I'd paste two girlfriend dedications in here for you because they are touching and so out of place in a doctoral thesis.  Enjoy:

"Gracia mi amor, por hacer que el sol brille para mi aún en los días mas obscuros, y por tu apoyo incondicional en el alcance de esta meta."

Thank you my love, for making the sun shine for me even on the darkest days, and for your unconditional support in reaching this goal.

"Ingrid M. Díaz, gracias mi amor, por aparecer esa tarde en mi vida cuando más la necesitaba, por tu apoyo incondicional en el alcance de esta meta, y por sembrar ese amor en mí que un día te dará el fruto que tanto has soñado."

Ingrid Diaz, thank you my love, for appearing that afternoon in my life when I most needed it, for your unconditional support in reaching this goal, and for planting this love in me that one day will give you the fruit that you have dreamed for.

Here, even the agronomists are poets.

Buenas noches.

Keepin' Busy (October - November)

My time down here, despite appearances, has not been all running, shipbreaking, and learning about Honduras, sadly.  I have been working a little bit as well.

When I first got in, I thought I would work on the potato value chain right away but was almost immediately retasked.  USAID (the 500 lb gorilla down here) had just released a request for proposal for a large project they wanted to execute in Honduras.  It was incredibly broad and ambitious, looking at how rural Honduran families in absolute poverty could be moved to just plain poverty.  A daunting task.  They then piled on requirements to consider gender equality, considerations for the environment, and others.  More daunting still.

What a great project though.  My first task was to see what we and other NGOs had proposed and done in the past on these types of projects.  It was really interesting to see what type of work US and foreign agencies have already done down here.  It seems that the rich world does care about the developing world.  I stumbled across projects launched by Taiwan, Germany, Switzerland, and the IADB, to name a few.  Isn't that amazing, Taiwan is working with Honduras.

Next I evaluated the different crops that had the most possibility for improving the lot of rural Hondurans, this covered increased income through both production improvements as well as new employment opportunities (i.e. if I grow an additional 100 quintales (100 lbs.) of potato, I'll make $X more and hire an additional person per hectare) and also improved food security.  Food security is the idea that I can eat decently and with some regularity.  Some crops achieve these goals better than others.  Coffee and cacao, for instance, can make bank for producers but do little for food security.  Basic grains, on the other hand, don't make a lot of money but contribute directly to dietary improvements.

This task was difficult but fortunately some of my colleagues down here are geniuses.  Rynaldo can think his way through any number of crops, telling you exactly how much all the inputs will cost, how much you will produce, and how much profit you will make in the end.  Incredible.  

Beyond that, I looked into how we could make improvements in these selected crops, specifically along the lines of increasing production, properly organizing producers, adding financing, and connecting the production to markets.  There was a lot of detail in here and let's just say it wasn't easy.  How do you increase financing options for a subsistence farmer producing 4 quintales of beans?  Let's again just say it isn't easy.

It was actually amazing to see how achievable some of these improvements are.  Things as simple as spacing seeds properly could double yields for some crops.  Something as simple as using a steel vs. wooden plow halves harvest costs.  Unfortunately, the poor producers are not exactly model adopters of advice and new methods.  That aspect is also shocking.  

Since completing our response, I've moved to the potato value chain.  We say value chain because we are focusing not only on production, but across all of the pieces involved in bringing a potato from a seed to a grocery store or a restaurant.  This method of analysis is a new trend in development that seems to be pretty effective.

Focusing on Honduras makes me appreciate just how well things work in the US.  Infection free seeds show up on time at field that has been prepared for the crop.  Planting and crop management are done according to best practices.  Harvest, transportation, and processing are planned and executed in conjunction.  Cheap, healthy potatoes are free all year long in grocery stores and restaurants.  It is really amazing.  I could go into more detail about how fascinating that all is, but who wants that?

US Harvest (actual)

Honduran Harvest (actual)

Here, those things don't happen.  The main problem is production.  This is what I am focusing on.  Production is abysmal (quantity and quality) so there is little to no processing in country (not profitable due to low volumes) and supermarkets can't purchase the potato at the standards they need.  Farmers don't see much incentive to improve their quality as they get the same price from intermediaries in any case.  These issues and others go around and around.  

And to start with farmers and improve production is not easy either.  You have to contend with low quality seed (for so many reasons), poor crop management, harvesting problems, damages from transportation, and a lack of markets.  If only every participant would stop looking after their own interests and listen to development agencies, I swear (heavy irony here).  I mean, who responds to incentives anyways?  So, the challenge is to propose solutions that address the largest problems taking into account how people behave and why.  Then, to assure that the solutions actually happen is another animal entirely.

I find this fascinating.  I think of it like a consulting project.  You have client teams and sponsors.  You have problems, constraints, timelines, and goals.  But, everything is more difficult.  Clients are poor, they don't have college degrees, high school diplomas or even junior high educations.  Sponsors pay less and can't fire people  for not working with you.  And goals are more important.  Instead of an EPS target of $2.25, you are talking about moving people up to living off of $2.25 per day.  What work could be more challenging than this?

Hurricane Mitch

Hurricane Mitch was born on the 22^nd of October, 1998 in the Caribbean Sea.  It passed from a tropical storm to a category five hurricane, the highest possible rating.  This meant sustained winds of 155 mph or greater and storm swells of over 5 meters.  Mitch was actually stronger than this with sustained winds of over 180 mph (putting it into a hypothetical category six).  It slid west and then paused off the coast of Honduras, weakening to a category three before it moved south, making landfall on the 29^th.

When it did hit Honduras, it brought waves as high as 20 feet with it, inundating the northern coast.  For the next five days, Mitch stalled above Honduras, flooding the rest of the country with torrential rains.  In the mountains, up to 6.5 feet (FEET) of rain fell in less than a week.  This massive amount ran down the mountains, dislodging the soil in massive landslides, breaking riverbanks and knocking out almost every major bridge in the country (see map below).  It rained in the lowlands too, Choluteca in the south got 1.5 feet in ONE day.  The wind and rain devastated the crops in the field and in storage, destroying 20% of the café, 30% of the vegetables, 60% of the corn, 60% of the sugar cane, and 85% of the banana crops.  The landslides completely erased 25 villages across the country and wiped out 75% of the country’s transportation infrastructure.  The airports were under water.  If they had had sufficient helicopters, they would have been the only way to reach the remote villages.  When it finally moved north off of Honduras, the country was in ruins.  The president said that the last 50 years of progress had been erased.  The IADB called it “an unprecedented disaster”.  

1.5 million people (25% of the population) were homeless, the death toll was climbing towards 10,000, and almost twice that many were missing (and would never be found).  Food and water shortages were acute and malaria, dengue fever, and cholera were starting to appear.  A curfew was imposed by the government fearing rampant crime.  The streets and houses in the capital were literally filled with mud and buried debris. 

There’s little point in comparisons to Katrina.  The entire country was in ruins.  Mitch had rendered even the maps obsolete.

Choluteca Bridge

But, this is one of those instances when people step up.  There was no crime at all.  None of the looting we saw in Katrina or in the aftermath of Chile's earthquake.  People fought infection and no epidemics raged through the country.  Mexico sent 700 tons of food, The US pledged $80 M and offered the services of the US armed forces stationed in Honduras (why they are there, I don’t know) and their helicopters, Spain pledged $100 M, and Sweden promised $200 M over a three year period.  Honduras has been rebuilt.  However, it is hard for me to say how things have changed since 10 years ago.  People don’t record the incremental improvements nearly as well as the sudden disasters.  Not to say that Honduras is a shining example of development now, read my previous posts, it’s not.  And it still faces setbacks from rains and storms.  In 2008, flooding returned and 200,000 were affected.  This past September, rain washed out the main highway between San Pedro and Tegucigalpa.  But things are much better than they could be.

However, what really astounds me is how I didn’t know about this until I came down here.  I was 13 when this happened, in junior high.  Was I not aware that a country was almost literally wiped off the map?  Chalk this up as just another thing that I never knew about, alongside the Iran-Iraq war, the Algerian civil war, and UN Resolution 242. That darn Robert Fisk.

Typical Day

Pre-Work:

I start my day at one of two times, 6:15 am or 7:04 am.  If it is sunny and I went to bed at a decent hour, I go with the early start.  I turn off my alarm and roll out of my king-size bed (living large in San Pedro Sula).  Today is a running day.  I wear my sweet Nike watch all the time and have it on a continuous countdown from 10 minutes.  I throw on my vibrams and am usually out the door within 7-8 minutes of waking up.  Not bad.  I keep the watch on the countdown and let it go for either 4, 6, or 10 minutes, depending on how I'm feeling.  4 minutes is going to be a fast - slow run.  10 minutes will just be a heads up for when I need to turn around.  I typically run for 20-25 minutes.

After getting home, I need to cool down a bit and eat some grub.  Breakfast is some combination of eggs, chorizo, fruit, sweet bread (pan dulce), and / or fruit.  After eating and studying some GMAT (25 minutes), I shower (6 minutes), and head out for work.  No car, so I take a cab with Jose, my boy.  50 lempiras ($2.50).  Jose has this money, old white car that rattles and creaks as we drive.  He has to open the door from the inside for me but he's a nice guy.  His windows aren't heavily tinted like most of the cars here (I'm guessing for a combination of fighting heat and security problems).  On Thursdays I like to buy a newspaper (7 lempiras (~$0.50)) from the kid that sells them in the street by the hospital.  He is all business.  Jose and I usually chat about the US, church, and how I shouldn't buy a motorcycle.

The 7:04 option looks a lot like the previous option minus the running, the cooling down, and the chorizo.

He drops me off just outside the gate of the colonia (neighborhood) where I work.  These gates are great; hippies would call them green.  They are gravity powered, being weighted on one end by a quantity of large bulky rocks and operated by a human who pushes the opposite end up and then pulls it back down with a rope.  I walk past these marvels and through our own mechanical gates, giving a "Como vamos?" to the guards.  I usually beat Carolina into the office so I don't so "Hi" to anyone, just glance at the paper from yesterday and head to my desk.

Work:

I start my day off with a cold glass of water because A. water is good for you and B. I'm usually still hot from the run.  I pull up my outlook ((ctrl + windows key + O) for my Autohotkey users) to see if any work stuff has snuck up on me and I'm ready to go by 7:50.  Right now, I'm working on the potato supply chain so I'm either sketching out ideas or reading previous research studies.  My favorite part of the day is usually around 8:10 when Sandra, our cleaning lady, brings me the most delicious coffee.  I don't even like coffee but this stuff is amazing.  It tastes good even without sugar (but Sandra puts a lot in anyways).  After the coffee, I tend to work until lunch.

Lunches take up a good amount of time here.  If I leave for lunch, it will usually take 1 to 1.5 hours.  People like to run errands during this time which adds to its length.  Worse, the preferred venues are malls and chain restaurants.  Who likes this food?  I have eaten more fast food here in Honduras than in the previous 6 months, I swear.  I am starting to push for small restaurants establishments though so I'm optimistic.  One nice thing about lunch here is that it coincides with the European football leagues.  So if you leave for a late lunch, you can catch the second half of some quality matches.  While eating, especially if you are in the office, you have to be on look out for "buen provecho" (bon apetit, more or less) which everyone says whenever they see you eating.

Back to work after lunch.  More of the same with research and putting together ideas.  There are a lot of problems with the potato value chain here so it requires some thought.  More on this later.  Usually I work until 6 or 6:30.  I tell you, this is the life.  

After Work:

Leaving work is a little tricky.  I can almost always catch a ride with someone but I know one of these times I'll have to call a cab and try to describe where they need to meet me (Colonia Pedregal, 500 meters north of the hospital, across from the FUNADEH building).  This is literally the address so no dice with Google maps.

By the time I stroll through the gate of the house, it is dark.  By 6:30 you can see stars.  Once in the door, I start on dinner.  Typically tilapia, beans, rice, potatoes, pasta, or takeout of some kind.  While I eat, I either study or watch some CNN Espanol or the local news channel.  I love the subtle differences you wouldn't expect.  For instance, the anchor is talking to two people, and, while he is concentrating on person A, person B might be texting away on his phone.  Or, if there are two sports commentators with their laptops in front of them, one might have a big sticker of a brand or cause that he supports on the back of his laptop.  Very odd.  Also, while I am watching TV, I usually spot a small gecko that lives with me, darting across the wall behind the shades.

After dinner, I typically do some more work work and then either focus on essays for grad school or study for the GMAT.  The math section is troubling me.  I've got the watch on still so it keeps me focused. Every 10 minutes.  After I'm done studying I do a bit of reading (10 minutes plus an extra 5 minutes I cheat on) and call it a day.  I hope it will be sunny the next day and fall asleep.