An eye-opening trip home...
“PERSPECTIVES – Another slice of Life in the Baja”
Originally published in Western Outdoor News the Week of July 27, 2011
At any given time we have several dozen employees on the roster here in Baja. Like business owners anywhere in the world, we stress over the usual stuff like scheduling, attendance, benefits, employee taxes…the usual stuff.
But, one of the biggest problems we face is folks always coming in late. Dangit, how come a dishwasher or cook can’t come in on time? Day-after-day.
No matter how many times you talk with them; put things in their files; dock their pay…nothing works. Arrive late. Often leave early. Doesn’t anyone have an alarm clock? How hard is it to be ON TIME? Three days late, legally lose a day of pay.
Then, I had a bit of an epiphany of sorts.
We had just closed the restaurant about midnight and headed home, I saw one of our cooks walking down the block in the dark. I pulled over and offered to give him a ride home which he happily accepted. To me, no big deal. Hop on in, Jose!
It took almost 15 minutes to go just several miles. Up one dark deserted street. Down another side street. Around a dark turn or two. Dogs in the trash…some guys on a porch drinking beer under a harsh lightbulb..two more dark roads…or three…up several hills and more dark alleys then into the foothills.
No houses around but plenty of trash. Abandoned hulks of cars. Everytime I thought we must almost be there, he’d say, “poco mas adelante.” (little further). No problem, Jose.
Man…some of these “streets” were best for a mountain bike or vehicle with high clearance. Little more than gravel. In my rearview, I could see blooms of dust behind us.
We finally arrived at a cluster of dilapidated concrete cinder-block structures. In my headlights, it was hard to tell if they were painted. Single light bulb ceiling lights in some windows that didnt’ look like they had glass. Mis-matched bed sheets seemed to serve as curtains in some.
I knew Jose had a little girl and a wife, but judging by the amount of laundry hanging to dry in the dusty breeze, it was clear that more than 3 people lived there. More like a dozen. Two dogs sleeping in the dirt under a yellow glazed streetlight.
I asked Jose, how he gets to work every day. He said he walks about 2 miles down the dirt road. Hopes he hitches a ride with someone, if possible. He then pays 20 pesos to catch the bus (10 percent of his daily wage) assuming it’s on time and assuming it hasn’t broken down. It’s an hour to come into work…if he’s lucky.
What about at night? Sometimes he doesn’t get out until after midnight. There’s no bus after midnight. He walks. He hitches. He hopes for the best. Sometimes it takes 90 minutes to hike home.
He shrugs his shoulders and smiles. Gives me a high-5 and a “gracias”. Out the door then runs into his house around an old tire and through a broken screen door. A single glaring light bulb goes out.
I drove down the hillside deep in thought. Jose’s a great worker. But, I’ve been busting this guy’s chops for more than a year because he’s routinely 5-15 minutes late. . .or more. I’ve docked his pay. I’ve threatened to suspend him. He’s never argued with me. He always promises to be better. How’s a guy to run a business when the employee can’t be on time? Sheesh!
Then, he’s late again and I jump on his case. In fact, I have him on night shift which means he won’t leave the restaurant until well after midnight, So…that means, Jose walks home up through the dark alleys…the back paths…the dusty roads…and up into the hills to get home. Every night.
I never thought…
You just assume that people have transportation. As an American, we are used to always having ways to get from point A to point B. Certainly, we can get to work. We all have cars or access to cars. Gotta get somewhere? Heck…jump in your car and just go, Man!
We just so often forget. Most people don’t have cars in Mexico. Or the bus doesn’t run. Or they have to walk a zillion miles to catch a bus that may or may not be there on time if at all.
Or, if they do have a car, gas costs the equivalent of a day’s wages. So you buy ONE gallon at a time. To an American, that would be like paying 50-100 dollars per gallon!
It gets complicated when a kid or family member is sick. When the car breaks down. When the bus doesn’t run. When you don’t have enough dinero to even buy one gallon of gas.
Someone is gonna be late.
I try not to bust Jose’s chops so much anymore. It’s not gonna do any good to “teach him a lesson” in punctuality. I’m the one who gets “schooled” in being a bit more tolerant and also grateful for my own blessings.
That’s my story
Jonathan
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Jonathan Roldan has been writing the Baja Column in Western Outdoor News since 2004. Along with his wife, Jill, they own and run the Tailhunter International Fishing Fleet in La Paz, Baja, Mexico www.tailhunter-international.com. They also run their Tailhunter Restaurant Bar on the famous La Paz malecon waterfront. If you’d like to contact him directly, his e-mail is riplipboy@tailhunter-international.com or drop by the restaurant to say hi!
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That's My Story 