What's "Rural" in Honduran Immigration?

In rural Honduras, the northward pull is strong

That's how the Washington Post headlined an article that, unfortunately, is unlikely to give people in the US anything other than another set of stereotypes about Honduras to add to drug violence and gang violence.

Let's start with "rural". I started the article thinking, maybe finally someone got out into Yoro to talk to people there, like the ones I worked with in the early 1990s-- before electricity arrived.

Or maybe they visited Santa Barbara, where on my first visit to the site my compadre was excavating in the early 1980s, we needed a flashlight to walk through the lightless night-time streets of the city-- the capital of the Department of Santa Barbara state.

That's rural. And there are still plenty of backwaters in Honduras where sanitation, electricity, and potable water are not routine, where cities are a long way away.

So imagine my surprise when I realized that the "rural town" here is Comayagua-- the colonial capital city, the capital of the department of Comayagua, and one of the most populous cities in the country.

I would have characterized Comayagua, located on the main highway that links San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa, as urban. It's a city of approximately 60,000 residents.

The valley in which the city sits is a center of commercial agriculture, which the Millennium Challenge Corporation described in 2009 as

of the utmost importance to Honduras, agricultural and cattle breeding activities carried out in the valley stimulate the national economy; the valley is leader in the production of oriental vegetables and pickles in Honduras and Central America.

Think Dubuque, Iowa.

Rural, if by rural you mean agricultural. Not if you mean remote and antique.

But that is what the photo essay accompanying the Washington Post story seems designed to suggest. 

The first image shows a man roping a bull-- a common part of life even near San Pedro Sula, the industrial powerhouse of the country, due to a long heritage of cattle ranching. The annual Feria Juniana in San Pedro Sula centrally features cowboys riding, and a cattle show-- like any country fair anywhere in the US.

But that image set a certain tone for the representation of Comayagua, which was reinforced by images of mango vendors on the side of a road, and reached an absurd climax with a series of three images of two young men, hard at work "at the Villa San Antonio community outside Comayagua".

Pause for geography lesson: Wikipedia, to which I resort out of necessity, informs us that the Villa de San Antonio is located 20 minutes outside the city of Comayagua, has 17,000 inhabitants, and its "principal economic activities include farming, factory work, and construction". 

Back to the images: the first shows a view along the paved highway. Cars drive by-- three are visible-- but our focus is on two young men in a cart. The caption describes them as riding to work "in a typical carriage pulled by oxen".

Now, "typical" usually implies "normal": what most people might use. Ox carts, though, are actually more used for specific kinds of work than as the typical form of transportation, even in the really remote rural areas I have worked in. As early as 1955 a US news article characterized Honduras as having moved directly from ox carts to airplanes, making this an especially durable image of primitiveness applied to the country.

The second photo in the sequence shows the same two young men and describes them as working "to extract dirt from the bank of a river, which they will later sell".

So far as I know, there is no market in Honduras for dirt (as such). It is possible that these two young men were digging clay, a principal material for building adobe houses that still form an important part of the housing stock in Comayagua.

Villa San Antonio's mayor made news last year asking for funding to pave the town's streets, noting that it also needed potable water. It is exactly the kind of place where adobe houses still are the most practical option for people.

So yes, Villa San Antonio is rural, if by rural you mean: poor.

But not rural as in remote, removed from urbanization. In fact, the mayor went on to talk about the need to plan for infrastructure impacts when the military air base at Palmerola is finally rebuilt as a civilian airport. Because Palmerola (Soto Cano Airbase) is in the Villa de San Antonio.

And Villa San Antonio and the other places featured in Comayagua are not particularly central to the story of Honduran migration, anyway.

News coverage today in La Prensa today says that 52,000 deportees were returned in 2012, about 32,000 from the US.

According to authorities quoted, they came primarily came from the departments of Cortés (where San Pedro Sula is located), Francisco Morazán (where Tegucigalpa is located), Yoro and Choluteca-- the last two actually rural.  No mention of Comayagua as a leading source of Honduran would-be emigrants to the US.

Of course, this isn't really a story about Honduras. Instead, it offers another stereotype: the story of Central Americans trying to reach the US, forced by Mexican drug lords to pack drugs into the US.

The narrative on immigration is just as incoherent as its representation of Comayagua. Admitting that the total of intercepted would-be undocumented immigrants at the Mexico border is at its lowest point in 40 years-- since the 1970s-- the article seizes on the fact that a higher proportion of those still trying to enter the US are from Central America.

For Hondurans, we are told, the immigration reform bill "has nothing to offer".

That's convenient: immigration reform offers nothing for Central Americans, who are coming in a "surge of unlawful newcomers", "an exodus".

Of course, it is both a small surge and an unsuccessful exodus: of an estimated 80,000 to 100,000 Hondurans trying to make it to the US in a year, we are told, more than 50,000 are deported from the US-- and what cannot be estimated is how many turned back before crossing the border.

There are real issues that could have been covered here. The portrayal of Honduran immigrants as semi-willing drug mules ignores a horrific and well documented recent history of hopeful immigrants being kidnapped by Mexican criminals and held for ransom, raped, even killed.

The Post could have followed the lead of Columbia University's Katy Orlinsky, whose reporting details the risks Honduran immigrants experience riding the Mexican rails. She documents the bias Central Americans face Mexico, where (as in the US) they are viewed as likely gang members.

Most of all, she presents these people in full humanity, wanting to "show Americans what they go through to make it to the other side" She wrote:

I worked to capture their feelings of hope and uncertainty, fear and anticipation... of the young people I met in the rail yards were brave and generous. They took care of one another. People shared food; they took turns keeping watch. They felt safe with one another.

The Post could have done something similar; the last ten photos in their essay actually tell that story, if they had been explained.

They start with images of Hondurans crossing the border with Guatemala at Corinto, on the northern coast, supposedly starting for the US. Next comes an image of a bus full of Hondurans deported from the US, at the old airport of San Pedro Sula. The two ends of the journey.

The images that follow mix two centers to support returning migrants, one at the border crossing at  Corinto, the other at the San Pedro airport.

Honduran press describes the center at Corinto in 2012 as intended to serve Hondurans deported from Mexico. Funded initially by the Red Cross, the Centro de Atención a Personas Migrantes responds to the medical needs of these Hondurans-- needs caused by the conditions that Orlinsky wrote about. The mission is one of serving people who have suffered.

The second center featured, Centro de Atención al Migrante Retornado (CAMR), is one of two located at the major Honduran airports. It is supported by the Catholic Missionary Brothers of San Carlos Borromeo, along with the Honduran government and an international NGO, the International Organization for Migration. Its mission, too, is to serve:

To assist those vulnerable Hondurans who return to the country, through actions directed to attend to their immediate needs and to promote their social adaptation and integration.

Vulnerable Hondurans.

This is the real story of Hondurans attempting to make it to the US: danger, risk, and need. Not as sexy as drug running, of course.

Oldest Clock in the Americas to Ring In New Year

On December 31 at midnight in Central America, the international Spanish-language TV stations Telemundo and Univision (along with CNN and NBC) will transmit the sound of the clock in the Cathedral in Comayagua striking midnight. Telemundo and Univision will broadcast from the Plaza in front of the Cathedral as part of a national celebration funded by the government of Honduras and the Alcaldia of Comayagua.

Why Comayagua? The clock mechanism in the Cathedral is said to be the oldest clock in the Americas. Photos of the mechanism show it uses a system of iron weights to power the escapement.

While the local history says the clock was built around 1100 A.D. (though some sources say 1374 A.D.), this kind of clock came into use in the 13th and 14th centuries in Europe. The clock is said to have been originally installed in the Alhambra, Islamic capital in Granada, Spain.

The official website of the city of Comayagua says the clock was a gift of the Duke of Consentania. Other sources say King Phillip II of Spain gave the clock as a gift. All agree the gift was to Jerónimo de Corella, the newly named Bishop of Comayagua. Corella was originally appointed Bishop of Trujillo, but in 1561 he arranged to have the bishopric transferred to Comayagua.

In 1586 the clock was installed in the church with today is called La Merced, but then was the Cathedral of Comayagua. In 1711 the clock was moved to the newly build Cathedral of Comayagua, where it remains today.

In 2007 the Instituto Hondureño de Antropología e Historia restored the clock as part of the renovations of the Cathedral of Comayagua. Part of the renovation involved constructing a new clock face, as the old one had deteriorated, though even that one is not the original clock face.

The clock, which must be wound every day, strikes quarter hours as well as the hour. The Cathedral bells the clock is connected to are 200 years old (La Emigdio) and 300 years old (La Concepcion), with the older bell being used to sound the hours.

So listen for this gem if you're watching television New Years eve.

Holy Week, Tradition, and Cultural Tourism

Honduran newspapers are publishing accounts of the annual observance of Holy Week, that runs between Palm Sunday and Easter. Religious processions carrying carved and painted images of saints will wind their way from major churches.

In a few places, their route will be decorated with brightly colored imagery created out of dyed sawdust. The most traditional location of these alfombras of tinted sawdust is Comayagua. According to an article in La Tribuna, by Friday there will be 43 of these artworks along the streets of the city.

International tourist publications encourage visitors to come to Comayagua this week, stressing its well-preserved colonial buildings, products of its long history as the capital of Honduras, before the mining town Tegucigalpa took over this role. Comayagua is represented as Honduras' equivalent of Antigua Guatemala, where Holy Week processions and the creation of sawdust carpets brings enormous numbers of tourists, an estimated 1.5 million in 2008. News reports claim that 50,000 to 60,000 tourists are expected to visit Comayagua for its celebrations.

The creation of alfombras has because a focus of national identity and nationalistic pride. Supported financially by the Ministries of Tourism and Culture, the creation of similar street decorations in the capital city, Tegucigalpa, is described by El Heraldo as an opportunity for

residents of the capital city and tourists to be able to appreciate this impressive artwork, that there is no need to envy that of other countries.

Yet as another article in La Tribuna about Holy Week observations in Tegucigalpa notes, the tradition of making alfombras has shallow roots, having been introduced only about forty years ago in Comayagua. The initiation of these religious artworks is attributed to Miriam Elvira Mejía, in 1963. A website created by her son describes her introduction of a custom of her native El Salvador. While the practice continued in Comayagua from then on, its adoption as an emblem of Honduran culture marketed to tourists is much more recent. Fifteen years ago, tourists visiting Comayagua for Holy Week reportedly numbered only 3,000 to 4,000.

Secular entanglements of what began as a religious tradition are visible in many ways. El Heraldo reported on alfombras in Tegucigalpa, some made by members of the parish, others sponsored by the Metropolitan Committee of the Foundation for the Honduran Museum of Man. Some of the planned alfombras will use innovative materials, flowers, seeds, and fruits, to create more effects than possible with the dyed sawdust that is more typical. The incorporation of varied materials is described as making these street carpets a celebration of the harvest, a surprisingly secular role for what are otherwise monuments to the Passion of Christ.

The variety of materials being introduced in Tegucigalpa recalls the decoration of floats in civic parades in the US, as does the sponsorship by secular organizations-- this year, according to El Heraldo, including Pepsi, the general store Larach & Compañía, the hotel group Plaza San Martín, and the bottled water company Agua Azul.

Nor is that the only secular aspect of the alfrombras of Tegucigalpa. The same article quotes Elder Rissieri, in charge of creating a 540 meter long alfombra in Tegucigalpa, saying that the "social theme" this year, "Honduras united in the faith of Christ", addresses tensions created by the coup d'Etat (here described simply as "happenings", acontecimientos):

"By means of this work we want to invite union by means of the Christian faith. The incidents that happened in recent months have been the cause of division within society and we want to unite it in the faith."

Holy Week thus presents a melange of colonial tradition, modern adaptation of a religious practice typical of Guatemala and El Salvador, and overtones of secular parades. And this year in particular, the urgency of increasing tourism income in the wake of the economic disaster brought on by the coup d'Etat is especially evident.

Newspaper coverage documents a particular emphasis by the Ministry of Tourism on increasing internal tourism during Holy Week. An article in El Heraldo quotes the Minister of Tourism, Nelly Jerez, encouraging internal tourists in Tegucigalpa, saying the government has granted a week of holiday for that very purpose. La Prensa's article encouraging internal tourism prominently mentions the alfombras of sawdust to be installed in the streets of Santa Rosa de Copán, another colonial city in western Honduras.

The self-conscious promotion of these events to the Honduran public underlines the blurring of lived tradition and commodified culture that has become ever more evident as tourism rose to the third greatest source of external income. As yet another article promoting internal tourism this Holy Week put it, based on an interview with Juan Bendeck, president of the National Chamber of Tourism (CANATURH):

At this time it is important to take pleasure in family and rediscover a noble and generous country that offers above all human quality.

Before taking your vacations, think of the social welfare that will be left to the country if you decide to undertake internal tourism and take the decision to explore this Honduras that is yours, and that awaits you with open arms.

Convert yourself into an ambassador for Honduras in the world, get to know the native soil that saw your birth... because it's all here!

Renewal

In April 2009 Honduras suffered a great cultural loss when an entire city block just off the square in Comayagua burned. This block of colonial buildings belonging to the Diocese of Comayagua, included a chapel of the Virgin of Carmen, the Bishop's residence, the church's radio station, the Colonial Art Museum, and the Colonial Ecclesiastical Archives. The fire, which started in the electrical system in the roof over the chapel quickly spread to all the interconnected structures, which burned. All that was left were charred adobe walls.

Much of the collection of the Colonial Art Museum was rescued; estimates are as high as 80% of the material on exhibit was saved. The Colonial Ecclesiastical Archive was nearly a total loss, with only a few charred bound volumes recovered. Fortunately, parts of this invaluable collection of documents had previously been microfilmed by the University of Texas, Arlington, and the Mormon Church. In the chapel there were a number of Colonial images of saints being stored, including Our Lady of Sorrows, Saint Mary Magdalene, Saint Peter, and the Virgin of Carmen with baby Jesus, and all of these were destroyed.

These saint's images, along with others, were used in processions around the city of Comayagua during Holy week. Last year, there was sadness, as the fire happened just after Easter. This year, however, there is joy.

Monsignor Roberto Camilleri, Bishop of Comayagua, commissioned a sculptor in Seville to make replacements for all the lost saint's statues. Reubén Fernández Parra, whose workshop in Seville is famous for religious sculpture, was commissioned last June to replace the 5 saint's statues, and to provide a sixth, of Saint Veronica. All are standing wooden and painted figures with the exception of the baby Jesus held by the Virgin of Carmen. The baby Jesus figure has movable arms and legs. The new image of Our Lady of Sorrows is an attempt to copy the destroyed one using existing photography. The Saint Peter statue was inspired by the one lost, but there was less photographic documentation so it is not a faithful copy. For the others, there was insufficient documentation to make replicas.

An article in Arte Sacro has a wonderful set of pictures of the new figures, and they also appear on Fernández Parra's website, where he has numerous photographs of his work. The ones for Honduras are the statues that currently appear first on the page. Welcome, then, to these beautiful new figures making their debut this week in Comayagua!