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flyfishinPam
Super Nomad
Posts: 1727
Registered: 8-20-2003
Location: Loreto, BCS
Member Is Offline
Mood: gone fishin'
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Quote: | Originally posted by wilderone
According to Scott Montell, Chief Legal Counsel and Exec. VP of LB Co., who spent 4 days working with them in the field, "They use a type of slurry on
top of the blocks, but not in between them." Here's his full report (interesting, long).
http://www.loretobayfoundation.org/index.php?tg=fileman&... |
I'm getting an "access denied" error message for that page.
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Baja_Girl
Nomad
Posts: 157
Registered: 4-2-2007
Location: Pasadena, CA
Member Is Offline
Mood: suavidad
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The Day with the Workers is here - in its entirety - THIS IS S0 UPSETTING - I THOUGHT THAT LABOR CAMPS WERE A THING OF THE PAST - REMEMBER - THIS IS
THE LBC "ATTORNEY" WHO THOUGHT IT WOULD BE PERSONALLY BENEFICIAL TO FIND OUT WHAT ITS LIKE TO WORK FOR LBC AS A LABORER...I HATE THESE PEOPLE...
Day 1
On my first day, Jeff picks me up and drives me to the clay pit. He introduces me to Carlos, the manager of the block production operation. Carlos
is a “visionary” in his own right. He already had been trying to build adobe homes in Loreto long before Loreto Bay arrived. He previously had
brought a small adobe-making machine to Loreto, and had tried to convince the locals to build houses out of earth blocks. However, the Loretanos
viewed earth blocks as a substandard building material and his venture likely would have failed, but for the serendipitous arrival of Loreto Bay and
Jim Hallock, who put his skills to use.
Carlos asks me why I want to work stacking blocks in the heat. I respond with something about the gulf separating the people who work on “concepts”
in Scottsdale and the people who actually do the physical work building the houses that we are marketing and selling. I talk a little about wanting
to experience the life of a worker, if only for a few days. It’s obvious that he’s not quite buying it. When I’m finished with my explanation, he
says “O.k….the new guys always clean the bathrooms!” It’s going to be a long day.
At the clay pit, there are four machines that produce the blocks, and this morning none of the machines are working. There is a real sense of urgency
and panic in the air since the block facility, even running on double shifts, is just barely able to keep pace with the current demand of the
contractors. The clay pit currently is running with essentially no excess inventory. Each machine normally produces about 3,000 blocks per shift,
and they generally only run two machines at a time, since they don’t think it’s a good idea to run them at full capacity each day. With two machines
running two shifts per day, the clay pit is able to produce about 12,000 blocks per day. The contractors, on the other hand, are using on average
about 10,000 blocks per day, and the masons are slowly but surely becoming more proficient at laying the blocks. Jeff tells me that the fastest mason
crew (consisting of 2 masons and 2 assistants) is able to lay almost 1,000 blocks per day. Probably not coincidentally, that particular crew is also
paid based upon the number of blocks they lay.
Carlos has become a jack-of-all-trades in maintaining and repairing these machines. He tells me that, for the most part, it is too expensive and
time-consuming to get replacement parts from El Paso, Texas, the manufacturer’s headquarters. Therefore, he has many of the parts made in nearby
Constitution, and has learned to fix, and even improve upon some of the parts. He shows me some of the innovations he has implemented. For example,
he uses stronger steel for some of the moving parts, he has developed a device on the conveyor belts to ensure conformity in block height, and he has
created a new mold that makes grooves on the sides of the blocks to allow for better bonding of the plaster.
This morning Carlos is hunched over a vice, furiously welding and sautering a new connection for one of the machines that is not working. The block
facility is clearly testing the limits of these machines. The clay pit is probably the first true production facility in the world in which these
machines are used at such a constant pace. In the past, these machines have been used to make blocks for a single house, or small development, and
would run for only a portion of a month, in single shifts. By contrast, Loreto Bay has recently made its 1,000,000th block using these machines. It
is easy to see why they are so difficult to maintain: dirt and machinery generally do not mix, and these machines are used to make a product out of
dirt. Moreover, the entire area is enshrouded in a dust cloud created from the constant digging, sifting and mixing. And despite constant cleaning,
by the end of each shift the machines are filthy and covered in dirt and dust.
By noon, Carlos has fixed one of the machines, and it is up and running. Three of us then stand in front of a conveyor belt of metal rollers as the
earth blocks are compressed and exit the machine. My job is to sweep the excess dirt off the top and sides of the blocks with a wide paintbrush and
push them down the rollers where the other workers will grab and stack them onto pallets. Each pallet holds five layers of 18 blocks each. Once a
pallet is completed, one of the workers wraps it in plastic saran wrap, and then it is left outside to cure. Normally, the drying process takes about
30 days. However, because of the pressure to produce enough blocks so that the entire construction process does not have to slow down, Jeff has
decided to add cement, rather than lime, as a bonding agent, which reduces the curing time by half. It is obvious that he is not happy with the
decision, primarily because the cement makes the blocks less sustainable. But the reality is unavoidable, another day or two of breakdowns, and
there will not be enough blocks to keep pace with the contractors.
None of us wear weight belts to help support our backs when lifting the blocks, and within an hour I can start to feel the pressure. We break for
lunch at 2:00 p.m., and the workers invite me to sit with them in a shaded spot. One of the older workers talks to me and points to one of the
younger guys. He speaks so rapidly and animated that I’m not quite able to follow much of what he says, but I do understand that he has told me the
younger man could show me “many curious things.” The other workers crack up. Oh well…it’s not quite singing together hand-in-hand with the workers,
but it’s probably the closest I’ll get on this trip.
Carlos stops over to chat with me later in the day. He tells me that of all the workers at the facility, only one is a Loretano. He says that the
locals just don’t like this type of work. He explains that he doesn’t believe they are “lazy,” but they have a different view, culturally, regarding
work. For a long time Loreto had been a fishing village and, until it recently became illegal, Loretanos could make 1,000 pesos (about $USD100) per
day, harvesting clams. The approximately $30 to $40 (USD) the workers make a day at the block facility, for much harder work, simply does not seem
attractive.
By 5:00 p.m. we break for the day. Given the machine failures, we probably have produced only about 1,500 blocks for the shift. I will learn later
from Jeff that the following Friday, for the first time ever, the facility had to turn away contractors that needed blocks.
Day 2
I slept at the Hotel since arrangements were not yet made for me to stay at the workers’ camp, so I am well-rested and ready to go when Jeff picks me
up at 8:00 am to start working with Eiffel’s construction crew.
Our first stop is Eiffel’s construction trailer to meet with one of the supervisors, Antonio Garcia. It is obvious that everyone in Eiffel’s office
likes and respects Jeff. For one, he is completely fluent in Spanish. In addition, before speaking with Antonio, he takes the time to greet and hug
each of the secretaries, most of whom he knows by name. I have the impression that he is the type of person that will remember the names of the new
secretaries he has met that day.
Jeff explains to Antonio why I am there. Antonio shakes his head, and says that he started out as a laborer and would never want to go back to it if
he could help it. But he then adds that he is happy to help in any way he can.
I’m taken across the street and introduced to my “crew:” Francisco or “Frankie” (19 years old), Ishmael (20) and Guillermo, or “Memo” (20). All of
them are from Chiapas, look slightly Indian, and have been on the job site for a few months. Our job is to transport concrete in wheelbarrows from
one side of the site to the houses on the other side where we then shovel it into large buckets. Each bucket has a metal rod running horizontally
through the top, which acts as a handle, allowing us to swing the full bucket between our legs, and use the momentum to heft it up onto our shoulders.
Once we have it balanced, we walk the full bucket to a ladder propped up against the house wall (and sometimes all the way up to the second floor),
where we climb a few rungs and hand the bucket to a “maestro” sitting on the top of the house wall. The maestro pours the concrete into the wooden
forms in the middle and at the edges of the adobe walls, which forms the concrete columns in the walls. Each full bucket weights about 40 – 50
pounds.
Francisco, Ishmael and Memo are very welcoming and show me, through a combination of Spanish and hand gestures, what I am supposed to do. I get my
first wheelbarrow full of concrete, and it’s clear that many of the workers are watching me out of the corner of their eyes to see how I do. As a 6’
4” gringo, I’m not exactly “undercover” on the site. I can only hope that the full wheelbarrow doesn’t tip over as I go up and down the various
gullies, across the 8 inch boards over some ditches, and finally wheel it into the house.
The work is back breaking and, and we are generally in the direct sun, although we try and stand in the shade of the walls as much as possible.
Fortunately, there are huge 500 gallon containers of potable water throughout the job site, and we can make stops to rehydrate when we refill our
wheelbarrows with concrete. I find it hard to even imagine doing this same work in the summer months.
The Mexican workers are well-practiced and nimble in balancing the full bucket on their shoulders while they quickly scramble up the first few rungs
of the ladder to hand the bucket to the maestro. The gringo, on the other hand, can do it, but with noticeably less coordination and skill. When
the maestro realizes I’m a full head and a half taller than the rest of his crew, he asks me to just walk to the side of the ladder and lift the
bucket a little, which brings it to the same level as when the workers partially climb the ladder.
We continue doing this until 2:00 p.m. when everyone breaks for lunch. Eiffel provides three meals a day to the workers for free (the owner of the
food operation will later complain to me that Eiffel only pays him USD$6.60 per worker per day, and he cannot make a profit at that rate). Lunch is
served in a huge tent which seats all 100 workers. The food is surprisingly good (probably in part because I am surprisingly hungry) and consists of
chicken in a tomato sauce, two big servings of macaroni salad, tortillas and juice.
At lunch, we have a little more time to talk now that we are not working. At this point, I’ve met about 15 workers since (a) I am interacting with a
lot of the other workers, including the masons, and the crew that mixes and pours the concrete and (b) I stick out like a sore thumb.
I feel like an outsider for sure, but not at all in a threatened way. The workers who speak a little English come over to introduce themselves and
practice a few words. And the crew I am with, while they are the low men on the totem pole, also appear to be the “camp clowns.” Since a lot of the
other workers are from Chiapas as well (they all call themselves “Vargas” since apparently that is a common last name there), Francisco and Memo spend
a lot of time in lot hurling insults at the other Vargas, causing much laughter at the surrounding tables.
Today most of their questions have to do with how much things cost in the US: How much is a flight to Arizona? How much are my boots? How much is a
car in the US? How much do the houses we are making sell for? They are astounded when I tell them the prices of our houses, since it would take 100%
of their salary, for almost 80 years, for them to buy an average house in Loreto Bay.
Sometimes the interaction is like a game of charades. A worker will come by and want to tell me something. I won’t understand the words, so he will
start to sign. Crossed fingers – “Nope, don’t get it.” Holding hands six inches apart each grasping something – “Sorry, still nothing.” The word
“policia” – “OK, now I get it. You were in prison in the US for marijuana possession, next contestant.”
I notice that time seems to move at a different pace here. In Scottsdale, it often feels like I just arrived at the office when it is already time
for lunch. Here, when I glance at my watch thinking it must be 5:00 p.m., the end of our workday, it’s barely 2:30. When 5:00 p.m. finally arrives,
we take our wheelbarrows, buckets and shovels to a large cement water pit, and carefully wash them down, scrapping the concrete off with boards and
polishing them with rags. The workers treat the equipment with a great deal of respect, carefully taking the time to make sure they are entirely
clean, before ending the shift.
At 5:30 p.m. we’re herded onto the bus and head back to the workers camp, which is located at the beginning of the road to San Javier. The camp is
completely fenced in, and you have to pass the camp supervisor on your way in. He is expecting me and shows me to my room, introduces me to my
roommates, and shows me where to place my duffle bag. Then I’m told the rules: no drugs or alcohol are permitted in the camp, dinner is at 6:30 pm,
lights are out at 10:30 p.m. Monday through Thursday, and the bus leaves the camp for work at 6:20 a.m., with or without stragglers. He also tells me
the that all new workers are required to see the camp doctor. The doctor has a small tent near the entrance and keeps regular hours to help the
workers with their various aches and ailments. I am administered a quick physical, and cleared to live in the camp.
The camp consists of two long dormitory style buildings, with six rooms on each side. The rooms are about 15’ x 25’ and hold anywhere from 6 – 22
people (most of the beds are bunk beds, so there can be up to 11 beds per room). There are also about 15 tents at the far side of the camp, each
containing 4 bunk beds. The tents have no electricity in them, but they are only temporary housing until Eiffel completes an additional camp up the
road. In total, this particular camp houses approximately 350 workers.
In the middle of each of the dormitory buildings are the bathrooms, each of which has 8 stalls and 8 showers (or roughly one bathroom per 22 workers).
In between the dormitory buildings is a large gravel field on which the workers often play soccer at night, and a large mess hall with two satellite
televisions, the kitchen, and a small store. In the back of one of the buildings are ten outdoor sinks for washing clothes. The fence is strewn with
drying clothes. The camp is reasonably clean (there is a full-time live in Janitor with two assistants), and with the full time guard, it seems
reasonably safe.
I’m completely covered in dirt and cement dust, so I go to shower. I realize that neither blankets nor towels are provided or sold at the camp
(oops), so I use a t-shirt as my towel, and will later have to use my pants and shirts as a blanket. When I get in the shower I strip down to my
birthday suit and sandals, and happily start lathering off the day’s dust and grime. When I turn around, to my embarrassment, I notice that all of
the other workers in the adjoining stalls are wearing their bathing suits. “Oops….nice to meet you folks.”
Dinner is served cafeteria style. There is good-natured shouting, but everyone seems pretty subdued and friendly after work. I’m invited to eat at
one of the tables by a worker I met on the site, and, to me, the food tastes excellent again.
I’m exhausted and head to bed immediately after dinner. By 9:00 p.m. my roommates have turned out the lights, and everyone is going to sleep. With
six people in the room, it soon becomes a symphony of snores, and although I am extremely tired, it takes me awhile to fall asleep. It gets pretty
cold at night and I wake up every time my “blanket” falls off.
Day 3
It seems like I just closed my eyes when I hear my roommates getting up. Instead of eating breakfast, I use the extra 20 minutes to get some more
sleep. It’s still pitch dark when I walk out of my room, and Francisco, Ishmael and Memo are waiting for me outside. They are all still wearing the
same clothes from yesterday (and will be wearing them the next day as well), so I imagine it is their only pair.
We get to the site about a _ hour before we have to start work, so my crew takes me to a house which has some of the Styrofoam pads which will be used
in the ceilings. We arrange them into make shift beds, and try to steal a little more sleep.
The site supervisor whistles loudly at 7:00 a.m., and we all shuffle out to get our wheelbarrows, buckets, and shovels and start again. Today I spend
more time looking around since I have fallen into the work routine. There are specialized crews for all of the different skill sets. One crew is
working with the steel, cutting long rods to the right size and tying four rods together with wire and steel pieces. These will become the rebar
columns in the walls into which we will eventually pour our concrete. Another crew consists of masons, who carefully lay the earth block, using
string and levels to ensure that the rows are even. They use a type of slurry on top of the blocks, but not in between them, and carefully pound them
into place with a rubber mallet. When they need only part of a block, they use a hammer to chisel it into the right size (the cement additive will
make the process of breaking the blocks much harder).
There are also masons standing on scaffolding within the houses. They have trays filled with a mixture of cement, lime and sand. They dip their
trowels into the mixture, and in one smooth, practiced, motion, whip it upward so that it sticks to the Styrofoam and chicken wire which has been
affixed to the ceiling. Finally, when an area is coated, they smooth it off with a 2 x 4 board. To me it seems somewhat inefficient and wasteful,
since excess mortar flies all over the house, but the workers are skilled and fast.
Today my body is starting to feel the effects of the physical labor, and I am a bit sore all over. Three days a week of squash hardly prepares you
for the rigor and pace of this type of work, and the unrelenting sun quickly saps your strength. Many of the columns we are pouring today are on the
second floor. The steps are not in yet, so with the bucket of concrete balanced on our shoulders, we take a slight running start, find footholds in
the rebar sticking out of the sloped staircase, and jog to the top. The work is even more exhausting than the day before. Every once in a while we
take a break, but not very often. I know I will never again look at construction workers taking a break, and make a wise-crack about poor work ethic.
By the end of the second day, I am really exhausted. I’m hungry, but more tired than hungry, and doze off through dinner. At around 7:30 p.m., I
pull a chair in front of my room and sit outside. The camp manager, Omar, a large, strapping, Mexican from nearby Constitution, is chatting to a
group of the workers nearby. He seems to fill the role of a caring father to many of the younger workers, and he treats them all with respect and
comradery.
Omar comes over to me and asks me if I want to attend a futbol game, which Eiffel has arranged, between two camp teams at the nearby stadium in town.
I’m tired, but it sounds interesting, so I accept. Before I leave, Roberto, the owner of Eiffel, and Antonio Mayo, its vice-president of development,
walk by. They know I am in the camp, but do a double take when they see me, since I am sporting a five-day beard growth, am in workers clothing, and
am surrounded by other workers. We chat for awhile, and while they are both supportive of my staying in the camp, I can tell they are also fishing
for an ulterior motive. I am sensitive to the fact that having the company lawyer at the camp may be a bit unsettling. I assure them that I am there
more for my own personal experience and insights, rather than on a formal inspection, and I let them know I have found Eiffel’s camp to be progressive
in many respects. They still ask if I would send them my personal observations afterwards, and I agree to do so.
When I get to the stadium, I know a few of the players (including a member of my crew, and one of my roommates). Knowing how hard we worked all day,
I am surprised to see that the players are able to race up and down the field at night. They are in amazing shape.
While on the sidelines, I talk to Omar about drugs. The smell of marijuana is prevalent on the job site and in front of the camp (although never in
the camp), and I have already been offered marijuana and cocaine several times. Omar says that he doesn’t feel that the marijuana use is a problem
for the workers. However, he believes that crystal meth has been making its way into the camp. He comments that while low level use of crystal meth
can increase alertness and block hunger, increased usage destroys lives. Its side effects, include violence, hallucination, depression and psychoses.
Omar estimates that as many as 10% of the camp residents are using the drug.
He tells me that he provides periodic counseling at the camp for drug and alcohol problems, and later shows me one of the books they distribute on the
subject. However, he says that his advice goes in one ear and out the other. He notes that he has observed that drug use is often strongly
correlated to the region that the workers are from. The workers from around Mexico City and Chiapas, rarely do drugs, whereas the workers from Juarez
and other border towns, frequently are heavy users.
Day 4
I’m definitely feeling the effects of the work today, and skip breakfast again to catch some more sleep. I now have blisters on my hands, a large
bruise on my shoulder from where the bucket rests. Moreover, even though I have showered, I still am coated in a fine film of cement. I vow on the
way to work, to take it easy today, and let Francisco, Ishmael and Memo pick up the slack.
Despite my vow, early in the morning one of the supervisors grabs my crew and tells us that the site is having a “visitor,” so we have to clean up the
camp. This involves shoveling large mounds of dirt in the front to level out the ground, using pick-axes to break up the concrete which has spilled
in the ground and on the road and carting it off, and general trash pick-up. As the day progresses, I start to increasingly dislike these “visitors.”
The only break I get is at mid-day when a supervisor comes by and wants to chat and practice his English. Many of the supervisors have made it a
point to introduce themselves and discuss the project with me. This is the first time I have taken a break to look around that morning, and I notice
that the rest of my crew has somehow slipped away. I stay at the shoveling as long as I can, but I am starting to feel increasingly sick. I haven’t
eaten since lunch the previous day, but the thought of food makes me feel nauseous. I don’t think it’s anything I ate, but simply my body’s rebellion
from enduring more physical work than it’s used to.
I drift off to get some water and discover that my “crew” has placed themselves on trash-picking duty. I can see that the trick is to clean up places
in the shade, and even after the shady area is clean, to start picking up every tiny piece of trash still within that shady area. Soon we’re
practically dusting off the rocks. I am learning…
Francisco, Ishmael and Memo want to learn English, so they begin pointing to every thing in the house and on their bodies. They tell me the Spanish
name of an object, and I tell them the English name. When we run out of objects, I ask them why they came to Loreto. They tell me that the pay is
much better. In Chiapas they would probably be making about $US400 per month, but here they are making about $600. Moreover, after six months or so,
there is a possibility that they could become “maestros,” and make even more. Even though their salary is relatively low, they are still able to save
enough money to send some back to their families, since most of their basic needs are met at the camp. They also tell me that they don’t go out to
drink and they don’t do drugs, mainly because they thought drugs were bad, but also because they don’t want to take money away from their families. I
later read that Chiapas is one of the poorest states in Mexico, with an estimated 40% of the population suffering from malnutrition.
I look at my watch, figuring it has to be lunchtime, and it is only 11:45 a.m. The competitive side of me wants to finish the day, but I am feeling
increasingly sick. So, I admit defeat, make my “choice,” and head back to camp.
When I tell the camp supervisor I’m not feeling well, he brings over some medicine and has the kitchen prepare a special meal. I talk to the camp
janitor over lunch. He previously lived in Kansas driving a bus for ten years, until he was deported as an illegal alien. His children are US
citizens and remained in the US. He says he gets by on $200/week, but has had trouble opening a bank account since the camp does not provide the
permanent address which is necessary to open an account.
I head into town for a haircut, and afterwards, decide to buy some gifts for Francisco, Memo and Ishmael. I wrestle with the idea for awhile, because
they are proud, and I don’t want to seem as if I’m providing charity or showing off. However, I decide that I will give the gifts to Omar and ask him
to hand them out after I leave. I buy shoes for Memo (he has been wearing open-toed sandals all week), sunglasses for Francisco, and a Walkman that I
had packed (but had never used in over a year) to Ishmael.
When I return to the camp, the workers are back. I sit in front of my room and talk to one of my neighbors. He is a young plumber from Juarez, and
contrary to Omar’s stereotype, he doesn’t drink or do drugs. He has a wife and a four-year-old son back home. He is articulate and obviously bright.
He has just arrived and thinks the camp conditions are fine, but doesn’t like most of the other workers. An older worker comes over to us and begins
complaining about his shoulder. I go in my room and bring out a bottle of Tylenol which I give to him, however he struggles with opening the safety
cap and hands it back to me. When I show them how to align the arrows, my neighbor laughs and calls it a “Mexican-proof” bottle.
Another worker who I have seen around the camp drifts over and starts to make small talk. After about five minutes, he asks me if he can “borrow” 20
pesos. I hesitate. On the one hand, this particular worker seems as if he is on drugs and strikes me as a “hustler,” and I know the only reason he
came over is to get money. I don’t want to be seen as the Bank of America. On the other hand, its only USD$2. When my neighbor isn’t looking, I
slip it to him, and he soon leaves.
By that night I’ve gotten to know quite a few of the workers. Frankie, Ishmael and Memo wait for me for dinner, and a number of the workers come over
to say hi or practice a few words of English. After dinner, I ask the three of them if they want to join me outside the camp for a glass of whisky
that I have in my bag. We all head across the dirt road, and the group of three soon turns into fifteen. It’s a moonless night, full of millions of
stars. The conversation is mellow, and we talk about families and politics (they are all pro-Calderon). I also learn that Eiffel has initiated some
progressive ideas at the camp that could probably be emulated at other camps. For example, Eiffel periodically provides buses to transport the
workers back to their home States for free so that they can see their families. All of the workers from Chiapas will be going home for Christmas.
Also, with Eiffel’s help, two workers in the camp have recently obtained their GED equivalent.
The workers are not heavy drinkers, and we are all pretty tired, so at around 9:30 p.m. we say our goodbyes, shake hands, and return to camp. Memo
and Francisco walk me to my room. They ask me if I will remember the experience, and if I will visit them next time I come to Loreto. I tell them
truthfully, yes.
Observations/Recommendations
Clay Pit
Maintaining/Increasing Block Production. The plant is currently running at zero excess inventory. Establishing excess inventory, particularly with
AV about to commence, is critical. Jeff is doing an excellent job with the tools he has, but I believe he could use some higher-level help/support to
analyze ways in which to increase the block production level. It is unclear whether more/different equipment, more back-up parts, full-time mechanic,
or a combination of the foregoing are necessary. Short reports on projected block use/and projected block should be circulated weekly to senior
management in order to keep on top of production and head-off any shortages.
Performance Based Compensation. Carlos should probably be compensated, at least partially, based upon production. Contractors should be encouraged
to compensate block masons, at least partially, based upon number of blocks layed.
Camp Conditions
Committee of Camp Supervisors; Encourage Best Practices in all Camps. I think Eiffel has provided some progressive ideas for “best practices” that
could be emulated in other camps. For example, the free buses home, satellite television, organizing soccer games at the stadium in town, and
providing capable, on-site medical care. It would be a good idea to organize a committee of camp managers (Omar would seem to be a great person to
head this up), with perhaps a representative from LBC (Walter Cunningham?), whose focus would be to recommend and implement different ways to improve
the workers quality of life.
Improving Minimum Standards. I think we could begin to get more detailed on the minimum standards that we contractually require of our other
contractors, down to the number of bathrooms/janitors/guards per person, so that each of the camp standards are brought to roughly the same minimum
level.
Suggestions for Improving Living Conditions. An obvious long-term strategy is to develop affordable housing so that the workers can bring their
families and settle in Loreto. Roberto, the owner of Eiffel, mentioned to me that that this is something he is interested in, but it is along way
off. In the meantime, I think there are many small things that can be done to improve the workers lives while they are in the camps. One of the
main hardships of the camp (aside from the physical demands of the labor), is the boredom of living with 350 other men, with little to do for
entertainment. I think a small library with games might be helpful, periodic music or other entertainment could be provided, a few bicycles to get
back and forth to town. Many workers have old shoes and only a few pairs of cloths, therefore, an onsite good-will store, with affordable used
clothing would also probably be well received by the workers. Perhaps there is also a way to work with the local bank to make it easier for workers
to open a savings account, or better yet, to organize a credit union for all the workers.
Specialized Workers Fund. I spoke to Mark Spalding about implementing a specialized fund for the workers, which could help to implement the ideas of
the workers committee, mentioned above. Interested LBC employees could also be given the opportunity to donate a small amount directly from each
paycheck ($30 –$50?) to go towards this fund and to support these types of initiatives. Dave S. said this type of deduction would be easy to
implement (and tax deductible).
Providing Educational Opportunities. Education is also an area where meaningful changes could be implemented. Opportunities to obtain GED
equivalent degrees could be expanded, and courses in English as a second language could be provided. I do not think most of the workers would be able
to transition from construction to hospitality as the resort town grows and develops, however, I do think there are some that could, and LBC could
help to create transition opportunities.
Drugs. Finally, I don’t know what the solution is, but resources should be put towards trying to eradicate the problem of harder drugs. Perhaps
through counseling and/or random testing, with termination strictly enforced. More than anything, those types of drugs present the opportunity for
ruined lives and the possibility of spreading to the town and affecting it in a negative way.
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flyfishinPam
Super Nomad
Posts: 1727
Registered: 8-20-2003
Location: Loreto, BCS
Member Is Offline
Mood: gone fishin'
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Wow you found it. I couldn't get there directly but figured it out here are the links to that writeup that baja girl just posted:
first go here:
http://www.loretobayfoundation.org/
then go here:
http://www.loretobayfoundation.org/index.php?tg=oml&file...
(link to the "loreto worker's fund" on the main page left hand margin at the center)
then click on "A week with the workers" near the bottom center just above "DONATE NOW"
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flyfishinPam
Super Nomad
Posts: 1727
Registered: 8-20-2003
Location: Loreto, BCS
Member Is Offline
Mood: gone fishin'
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This is not on their Spanish version of this website. Wonder how the Loretanos would like to hear to the above comments on them.
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bancoduo
Banned
Posts: 1003
Registered: 10-3-2005
Location: el carcel publico mazatlan sin.
Member Is Offline
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A GIFT FROM GOD
http://www.loretobay.com/cms/page4186.cfm
Can anyone tell me how that CO2 emissions thing works?
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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"One of the main hardships of the camp (aside from the physical demands of the labor), is the boredom of living with 350 other men, with little to do
for entertainment. I think a small library with games might be helpful, periodic music or other entertainment could be provided, a few bicycles to get
back and forth to town."
hahahaha - a library with games - I have beer coming out of my nose I'm laughing so hard. Yep a little Dostoevsky and a game of chess, that will work!
HAHAHAHA
"organize a credit union for all the workers" oh my God, this guy doesn't know chit. Go ahead, lend these guys some money. HOHOHOHO
"Opportunities to obtain GED equivalent degrees could be expanded, and courses in English as a second language could be provided"
Yessir, let's go school after working as a slave all day long. It will only take a few years to learn to read and then I can study chemistry and
physics.
And why the hell would these guys want to learn English? I would bet a significant number are indiginous people from the mainland that can barely
speak Spanish.
And especially after the past 6 years of fine American foreign diplomacy, the wall that's being constructed along the border, the militarization of
the border, and those vigilanty minute men maniacs, most Spanish speaking Mexican adults absolutely despise Americans and could care less about
learning English. I watch Mexican news on TV every evening as part of my efforts to learn Spanish. All of these things are top news stories and the
Mexicans hate it. My wife and her two well educated adult sons and my neighbors, all of whom have lived their entire lives in Mexico, think Americans
are out of their minds. - Sorry for the rant.
Please folks, I'm not slamming the hard working guys manning the wheel barrows, shovels, and trowels. Maybe some would appreciate what Americans think
are the finer things in life. - some, ok 2 or 3.
But what 9 out of 10 men want after work, anywhere in the world, are party girls, cold beer, and some money to send home to the family.
The turkey that wrote this is just another example of gringo elitists that are in fact stupid as dirt and an embarassment to this gringo.
Jesus Christ I'm upset again. And I didn't even consider the Arbeit Macht Frei apsect to this yet. This is complete lunacy.
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Baja_Girl
Nomad
Posts: 157
Registered: 4-2-2007
Location: Pasadena, CA
Member Is Offline
Mood: suavidad
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I HATE THE buttcrack WHO THOUGHT IT WAS SO WONDERFUL TO SPEND A WEEK WITH THESE POOR PEOPLE AND COMMENT ON THEIR "DRUG PROBLEM" - WHAT APPALLING
ARROGANCE...PAM, LET'S INVITE HIM TO A DAY OF FISHING WITH TWO BAJA GIRLS, YOU AND ME WILL HOLD THE GUY DOWN UNDER WATER WHILE OLDHIPPIE REPEATEDLY
KICKS THAT buttcrack WHERE IT HURTS THE MOST...YES, I AM UPSET THAT SUCH A CLUELESS SOB
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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"Can anyone tell me how that CO2 emissions thing works? "
It's complicated to this simple guy, but supposedly limits in CO2 emissions have been set by the Kyoto treaty. To exceed limits, you pay money. The
idea is to make it expensive to pollute. Therefore the US didn't sign the agreement.
"The company offset more than 200 tons of CO2 emissions, 165 tons of which was for employee air travel, through contributions to the Climate Trust."
The executives dumped 200 tons of CO2 in the atmosphere flying around. It's still there, don't misunderstand. The word offset is highly misleading. It
is not a good thing.
So to make to make the more simple minded of the bunch, the mid level marketing folks, feel good, and to enable the complete greenwash press release
full of lies that bancoduo (2 banks?) linked to, the top level guys contributed money to the "Climate Fund" Who knows, they probably own that. Maybe
it's the "We're going to retire in the best Climate Fund". Certainly not in Loreto.
The company (Econergy) that is doing nothing but claiming to be building the windmill project which has been demonstrated by fact and logic to be too
small to do much good is based in England, has financial ties to Loreto Bay, and is playing the carbon credit game. Which so far has been a losing
game. In April 2006 CO2 permits were at 30 euros per ton CO2, last month they were 1.2 euros a ton. They bought a million tons of permits sometime
during the crash. Losers!
See:
http://www.fool.co.uk/news/comment/2006/c060503c.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/European_Union_Emissions_Tradin...
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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baja girl, I hear well fed gringos make good chum. excellent way to dispose of .... things
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amir
Senior Nomad
Posts: 559
Registered: 5-4-2007
Location: Todos Santos, BCS
Member Is Offline
Mood: chiropractic
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hmmm, let's see: it will take 100% of a worker's income, for 80 years, to buy a house there... well, that's cool! But wait, this equation is not
complete... "employees could also be given the opportunity to donate a small amount directly from each paycheck" to fund their own welfare programs...
hey, they'd be happy to do that! And wait, there's more! We'll teach them not to eat (after all, we can't really make a profit by feeding them); we
can teach them not to send a penny home (all their relatives will be dead anyway after 80 years in the camps)... We can enslave each ignorant Indian
for 80 years of hard labor and with their "voluntary donations" from their paychecks we don't really need to build more bathrooms for them... heck!
that would be a waste... Yes, I have it! I see it now: We could use that extra money to buy more brick-making machine, and run them 3 shifts a day...
OH PLEASE! SOMEBODY STOP ME! THIS S.O.B. LAWYER MAKES ME SO FURIOUS... I CAN HARDLY STAND IT!
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Cypress
Elite Nomad
Posts: 7641
Registered: 3-12-2006
Location: on the bayou
Member Is Offline
Mood: undecided
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amir.
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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Amir,
It is infuriating, more so than any other project so far in baja. I think most, if not all, the folks that read this website love baja for what it is.
It is so unique and wonderful. These folks are not only ruining a special place, they are ruining a special place within a special place. To make
matters worse, they are doing so under the guise of something good, environmentalism. And, they have tons of money and the collaboration of experts in
financing, the law, and the Mexican Government. And they have figured out a way, via the international aspect of all of this, to avoid the oversight
of any single nation and its regulatory mechanisms.
For example, I think they can say anything they want in their press releases without fear of it coming back to bite them. Whose going to bite back?
The owners who I think will eventually regret their decision. How? Sue somebody? Who? Is Loreto Bay even licensed to do business anywhere? Who you
going to take to court? Where would you do that?
This is a land grab to make lots of money and run, being executed by some very cagey folks.
I look at it as a challenge. The Internet is a wonderful thing. It allows them to lie and it allows us to tell the truth. Stay tuned.
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Paula
Super Nomad
Posts: 2219
Registered: 1-5-2006
Location: Loreto
Member Is Offline
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This is not in defense of Loreto Bay. I don't like anything about the place. But it is interesting that an LB attorney spent a few days on the job
with the workers, and I assume that what he said about them and Eiffel may be true. Eiffel is not Loreto Bay, it is a contractor working for LB. I
hope they are providing decently for those unfortunate workers who have to leave their homes to provide for their families. The problems arise for
the workers when LB breaks with a contractor and the workers go unpaid and stranded here. This has happened before.
I assumed that the opportunity to donate to a fund for construction workers was intended for LB executives and employees, not the workers employed by
Eiffel. If it ever happens, I wonder if anyone will ante up.
Edited for clarity
[Edited on 5-17-2007 by Paula]
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Roberto
Banned
Posts: 2162
Registered: 9-5-2003
Member Is Offline
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Quote: | Originally posted by jimgrms
Cost more to use enough mortar. it is 3rd rate work, ... |
I'm curious to know what your credentials are to make a statement like this. Care to elaborate?
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Sharksbaja
Elite Nomad
Posts: 5814
Registered: 9-7-2004
Location: Newport, Mulege B.C.S.
Member Is Offline
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I got all excited,
I was hoping for a non-biased report...
DON\'T SQUINT! Give yer eyes a break!
Try holding down [control] key and toggle the [+ and -] keys
Viva Mulege!
Nomads\' Sunsets
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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Paula, you're correct, there's not much a contracting agency can do with an unfit contractor besides tell them to stop work if they are in violation
of the contract. Not good for either party.
The library the lawyer suggested needs a history of Cesar Chavez. Nothing like a labor strike to get managment's attention. The people in Loreto need
to educate these workers about the power they have if they stand together. No project manager wants to change horses in mid stream, especially when
building a house of cards on a foundation of lies.
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oldhippie
Banned
Posts: 742
Registered: 6-25-2006
Member Is Offline
Mood: muted
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pam, email me your photos
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wilderone
Ultra Nomad
Posts: 3821
Registered: 2-9-2004
Member Is Offline
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The worker camps are another example of what LB promises (talk) and the truth. In Dec. 2004 they stated: "In many ways, the greatest achievement in
housing, is the agreement with our contractors to pay a generous "living" wage for workers. Because of this, we know that those who work at building
Loreto Bay will be able to afford decent housing in the community."
LB promised to build 2,000-2,500 affordable housing units. How many have they built? If the workers rented the empty units at the "Village" (gag
me), it would begin to acquire the Mexican authenticity that they think they're creating. 5 workers per unit could afford to live at LB. Why should
they not have the same rental options as other LB employees who are involved with the project? If anything, the workers deserve first priority for
the rental opportunity.
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Don Alley
Super Nomad
Posts: 1997
Registered: 12-4-2003
Location: Loreto
Member Is Offline
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Quote: | Originally posted by grover
"...Discover authentic Baja...5-star luxury that honors Baja Mexico’s nature and history..."
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Hmmm...There is a street/walkway in Loreto Bay called Calle Zapanta. Yes, Zapanta. Could that be an old photo of Emiliano Zapanta, Authentic Mexican
Hero?
[Edited on 5-17-2007 by Don Alley]
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Cypress
Elite Nomad
Posts: 7641
Registered: 3-12-2006
Location: on the bayou
Member Is Offline
Mood: undecided
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This Loreto Bay thing is looking more and more like a high-dollar trailer park.
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