GREENSBORO NEWS-RECORD

November 20, 2005

Tending to field and family

By Marta Hummel
Staff Writer

Tupataro, Mexico - The tap flows freely in Mario Elias Gervacio's bathroom, but not in the kitchen. Dishes must be washed outside at the cistern.

Decorative tile adorns a slight portion of the dining room wall, but more is needed. Also unfinished: a fire pot in the dining room to heat the house. Without it, jackets are worn inside to endure the 40-degree nights.

The two-bedroom, one-bath house remains a work in progress for Gervacio. Completing upgrades means another spring of saying goodbye to his wife and two daughters to make a seasonal trip to the United States.

For six months, he will help supervise the tobacco production on Robert and Brian Lewis' Gibsonville farm. In the fall, he will return to Tup?taro with money, new clothes and toys from Wal-Mart for the girls, and -- most importantly for Gervacio -- the luxury to spend time with his family rather than scrambling for work.

"The first year was really difficult," said his wife, Martha Mendiola Martinez. "But I'm used to it now."

Besides, she said, "there are many women in the same situation -- with their husbands working in the United States."

Here in Tup?taro, an agricultural town three hours west of Mexico City, is living proof of the economic relationship between the labor-hungry United States and cash-poor Mexico.

For many legal and illegal Mexican workers who cross north seeking work and wages, there is an employer offering a job too dirty, disgusting or low-paying for most Americans to want. These workers take these jobs because there's family back home in Mexico who can use that money to scratch out a better life for themselves and extended families.

"Almost everyone has relatives in the United States," Gervacio said.

Signs of new money are everywhere in Tup?taro. New houses of poured concrete with grass lawns -- one with white calla lilies, pink roses and a lime tree -- dot the landscape.

Fence gates are frequently the demarcation between newfound prosperity and the rutted dirt streets and packs of dogs that roam the village.

Many of these homes sit vacant, waiting for their owners to return.

Indeed, for all the things U.S. wages can buy in Mexican towns such as Tup?taro, there is the conspicuous absence of one vital resource: men.

There are almost no men of working age in this mountainous town. All of them are working in the United States or Canada, most illegally.

"It's very sad," said Carmen, who agreed to speak to the News & Record on condition that her last name not be used because her husband is living in the United States illegally. "My son speaks of his father all the time."

But she does not see an alternative to a life of raising her 3-year-old son alone while her husband works in Ohio, visiting every other Christmas.

"Thank God we have this house," she said. "There are many people here who are very poor -- there isn't any work."

'No options here'

Gervacio is lucky; he has a legal ticket into the United States for a job that, in six months, can sustain his family the entire year. For the past five years, he has been enrolled in a federal "guest worker" program that recruits men from Mexico for agricultural work in the United States.

North Carolina is the largest participant in this program; this year, about 6,500 workers came here to work the fields.

At 36, Gervacio leads a crew of workers on the Lewises' farm. He comes in the spring and stays until early fall. Gervacio's income over six months, at $8.24 an hour, is about 10 times as much as he would earn if he stayed home to work in construction or grow crops in Tup?taro.

Over the years, he made enough to pay $30,000 for the house, a combination of brick and poured concrete that he designed.

It's money he wishes he could earn in Mexico.

"I would like to stay," Gervacio said as his 4-year-old daughter Rosa sat in his lap, "but there are no options here."

At least not for the same pay. One day of agricultural work in the United States equals eight days in the region of Mexico where he lives.

Gervacio and Martinez, 33, wish they could be together all the time, but it is legally impossible at the moment. And, besides, Martinez prefers Mexico.

"I love the pure air and the space," she said while watching Rosa play in their yard, a band of turkeys nearby pecking at corn. "I hear that everyone is cramped in apartments in the United States."

The time away takes its toll on families. While he is in the United States, Gervacio calls home weekly. He calls his father's house next door. His wife and daughters come running.

He talks to Rosa and his 8-year-old daughter Andrea, getting updates on her schoolwork. Martinez shares news of their extended families.

They know he will eventually be home. But for other women in town, money wires are the only things coming home.

Ana, who did not want her last name used because her husband is in the United States illegally, said, "I feel a huge weight on my shoulders when my husband is away."

Sickness and holidays spent alone are the worst times, she said.

At least one woman said the distance wrecked her marriage. Her husband divorced her while in the United States.

Money sent from abroad is the main source of income for the families here, as it is in many places in Latin America.

Last year, more than $13 billion was sent to Mexico, by far the largest recipient of "remittances" in Latin America from workers in the United States, according to a report from the Inter-American Development Bank. That number is expected to increase for Mexico and throughout Latin America, where remittances "substantially exceed" official development assistance to each country, according to the report.

The money is why so many people leave -- and so many are willing to flout immigration laws.

Three years ago, a recruiter signed up 26 people in surrounding towns for the same agricultural program that Gervacio has participated in, he said.

The reason: It's cheaper than paying for a "coyote" -- an illegal guide -- to enter the United States. The men paid about $400 for transportation to North Carolina through the program. After a few months, they were reimbursed and left, but they stayed in the United States, Gervacio said.

By comparison, a coyote costs about $3,000.

Men in the region where Gervacio lives started leaving town about 10 years ago. Departures were triggered by the Mexican peso losing value against the U.S. dollar, causing widespread bankruptcies and high unemployment.

Gervacio knows his family would be better off financially if he were to stay in the United States. But he returns every fall just the same.

The family man

When he is in the United States working, Gervacio's life is predictable and controlled. Rise early, in the fields by sunrise, home by dark, dinner, sleep. Even on Sunday, the usual day off, there may be a few hours of work.

But at home, his life is his own. He picks strawberries and harvests wheat and corn on 20 acres owned by his father, but the bulk of his time is spent as a stay-at-home dad.

His return is usually a family celebration. For the girls, he brings stuffed animals and clothes from Wal-Mart: shirts, pants, nightgowns with Nickleodeon characters for the girls. For his wife, he shops at Victoria's Secret.

The homecoming festivities were short-lived this year. Two days after he returned home Oct. 10, he and his wife had to drive two hours to Morelia for a gall bladder operation she needed.

He has spent his days since then cooking, ironing, pulling laundry off the line, watching after Rosa, getting Andrea off to school, visiting family nearby.

Dinners are almost always spent at home.

"Mario does not like to take me out," Martinez said, joking. Doing so means driving about an hour round trip in a borrowed truck.

Instead, they cook elaborate meals with the entire extended family for celebrations such as the Day of the Dead and Christmas, when family living abroad return.

Since he's been home, Gervacio has gained 6 pounds, a result of less physical labor, he says. That and nights spent with the family watching "telenovelas" -- Mexican soap operas.

This is how the days go, until May comes around. And then it'll be time to leave again.

Gervacio stays with the guest-worker program because he hopes to earn a green card some day if immigration laws change. Overstaying his temporary visa means jeopardizing that chance, he says.

For now, it is enough that he can spend half the year with his family -- which may grow.

"She has a plan," Gervacio said, joking about his wife. "She wants two more children."

But they will have to wait. Martinez's doctor says she cannot have more children for two years as a result of the gall bladder operation.

"Mario wants a boy," she said. "But he would be happy with another girl."

Paying for a bigger family would be easier if Gervacio stayed on in the United States illegally. But no amount of money is worth sacrificing his family.

"My time spent with my wife and daughters, living with them, finding out what they think -- that is the best part of life."