The Gringos Are Coming

By Gabriel Flores Arredondo

The Director of Engineering of a huge steel plant announces that the whole department will disappear, since a joint venture with an American engineering company will be created to handle all future expansions of the Mexican steel conglomerate. The new company will be formed with American and Mexican personnel and invites the employees to join it.
The gringos arrive and work starts. The American director and the project managers are assigned parking spaces near the building. They reject them preferring to park in the general area. This initial democratic gesture surprise Mexicans.
Most gringos are liked and respected. In the first office party gringos arrive with their wives. One of them asks a secretary to dance with him and refuses to take no for an answer. Mexicans are shocked since a man with his wife present dancing with another woman is unheard of in town. Once recovered from the shock some bold Mexicans dance with some of their wives.
This party creates a new more liberal atmosphere. Interoffice sex occurs. Something also unheard of, since all females, as a rule, date only guys from other companies to avoid gossip. Some secretaries date unattached Americans.
Everything is rosy for three years until the crisis came. Inflation reaches over a hundred percent. Mexicans are every day poorer and gringos every day richer.
This fast paced novel, based on fact, provides a deep insight on the differences between Mexican and American customs and culture, as well as a detailed account of the Mexican crisis under the Lopez Portillo regime.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483526096

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Index

1 – THE GRINGOS ARE COMING

2 – THE BALL STARTS ROLLING

3 – THE IMPOSSIBLE DREAM

4 – AN ECONIMIC PUZZLE

5 – VIVA MEXICO

6 – PLAYING SHERLOCK

7 – STRANGER BEDFELLOWS

8 – A HOT, HOT SUMMER

9 – A TALL STORY

10 – THE TOWER CRUMBLES

11 – LET THEM EAT PORN

12 – STARTING OVER

13 – DISHONESTY

14 – YANKEE GO HOME

15 – THE DEEP BLUE GOODBYE

ONE – THE GRINGOS ARE COMING

"President López Portillo has decided to initiate a gross expansion program on several key industries. This expansion will obviously require foreign technology. Foreseeing a future in which we will no longer have to depend on it, every expansion will be performed by newly created joint ventures, half Mexican, half foreign, with Mexican personnel in every key position who will absorb this technology and be prepared to use it one day in similar projects without foreign assistance.

Not a bad idea. I said in a low voice to Ricardo Fernandez. We were standing along some other thirty coworkers, comprising the engineering department, assembled in the spacious director's office.

The director, Manuel Quiroga, a tall lean man with strong Indian features continued. In the case of the metallurgical industry, Fundidora has invited Dillon Corporation, one of the best in the field, to form a joint venture who will be called Dillmex, S. A. de C. V. The first job to be handled by Dillmex, will be the basic engineering for our expansion program which will include two palletizing plants, one concentrating plant and a three hundred kilometer long ore slurry line from our mines in Chihuahua to the Altos Hornos plants in Monclova.

Altos Hornos, near the U. S. border, was the first steel plant of the government owned conglomerate. Fundidora was purchased a few years ago and a new plant was recently built in the Pacific coast.

You, as the best people from Fundidora have been selected to form a part o this group. Officially you will continue working for Fundidora and will work for Dillmex on a borrowed basis.

Any Questions? He asked after a thirty minutes long speech.

Everyone looked at each other but there was total silence. There were indeed many questions but Quiroga's dictatorial personality seemed to intimidate the group.

Are we going to celebrate? I asked lighting my pipe.

He gave me a hard look.

What? You find the question insolent?

It isn't, it's just mildly impertinent…to show you I don't fear you like all your others.

He stretched his legs behind his swivel chair and lighted a cigarette.

Not yet. He finally said.

We all filed out from his office to our respective working places in the left wing of the building, where some dozen desks and some dozen drawing tables were scattered on the center of the huge hall. The hall was surrounded by small cubicles commonly referred to as stalls by the ones not lucky enough to have one and which were occupied by the managers of the different sections and chiefs of some sub-sections.

Many places were empty. In 1977, two years before, the engineering department comprised seventy five persons, some of them working overtime to complete an expansion program. Once the program was completed, some of them were transferred to other departments within the plant, and some others, mainly newcomers quitted and went to work for the private industry lately offering better paid jobs. Nobody was fired, in spite of the fact that the present work load required no more than five persons.

Ricardo's desk was next to mine.

So you think the joint venture is a good idea Miguel? He asked pulling his swivel chair next to mine.

Sure…actually I don't know why nobody thought about it before. We need a foreign form to pull the project together. The cost of forming the venture is minimal compared with the cost of the services performed.

You think so?

Of course, forming a joint venture is mostly paperwork…and the company will be able to work for other companies, both private and government owned.

Maybe…but what about the technology transfer? Do you thing the American will give it to us just like that?

Well I said. I don't think that's an official part of the deal. Most probably the idea is to let us watch how things are done and hope we learn from it. Suppose you want to know Frankenstein's secret to create monsters, what better way to do it than working with him?

Hildeberto Martínez, passing thru and overhearing our conversation said. Those fucking gringos are smarter than you think Miguel. Frankenstein is going to let you move the bodies, strip them, clean them, prepare them and he will perform the brain surgery while you're having your coffee break.

Well I said. Even if that's the case we have nothing to lose.

Hildeberto sat on the desk facing mine, lighted a cigarette and said. I wish they send us some sex starved gringas with big tits so we have something to gain.

They'll probable send a couple of big horny and well endowed negroes in case someone wants something to suck. Gilberto said joining the group.

Hildeberto worked in the Civil Engineering section and Gilberto was head of the electrical engineering section. Both have been on the job for over twenty years. Now, seriously I don't give a shit about the technology transfer. The transfer I'm worried about is our transfer to Dillmex.

I never worked for gringos before. Gilberto said. But I heard they are a bunch of slave drivers.

That's not what I meant. I was thinking about our labor standing once we are working for Dillmex. Don't you think this might be some kind of trick to get rid of us without any indemnization? Hildeberto said.

The eternal concern of the Mexican worker. The Federal Law specified that every worker separated from his job would receive from the company, among other things, an amount equal to three months salary plus twenty extra days for every year worked. By policy some companies paid this compensation as dictated by law, while some others use every mean at their disposal, legal or illegal to avoid it.

I don't think so. I said. Fundidora has never been that kind of company…and anyway why do it now after two years of paying us to scratch our balls?

Maybe they think it has been going long enough. Hildeberto said. By the question is why doesn't Dillmex get their own people?

I'm sure they will. I said. Dillmex will require more Mexican personnel…most probably Fundidora decided that can start with us because we're doing nothing.

Fundidora has nothing against us. Gilberto added. In any case the move is intended to get rid of Quiroga.

It was common knowledge Quiroga was not well regarded by the board of directors. It started two years before when Arturo Sielsky, a chilango (from México City) was nominated Director of Production. Sielsky started firing directors and managers and substituted them with other chilangos. For some reason he couldn't get rid of Quiroga, so he decided to undermine his power, hiring in every department within the plant, people cable of performing the required repairs and modifications previously performed by the engineering department under Quiroga."

I wander why they have been unable to hire him I they hate him o much. Ricardo said.

I've heard he has a brother who is a doctor who happens to be the López Portillo personal physician. Hildeberto said.

It doesn't make sense. Ricardo said. Of he so well backed, how come the chilangos dare to declare war on him.

That's the point. Hildeberto said. No war has been declared…it's just a cold war. He wants to be director of engineering. He is. He wants to receive a director's salary. He's getting it. He has no reason to complain.

That's Mexican politics. Gilberto said looking at Ricardo.

Ricardo was born in Chicago and had been living in México for less than three years.

And those chilango bastards are experts at it. He added.

Gilberto was not along in resenting chilangos. Almost everyone in Monterrey did. This included people who had never met one. The main cause of resentment was centralism. Everything you did in business or politics required the green light from México City.

The most important local paper El Norte, routinely attacked centralism on its editorial pages. The fact that from the federal taxes collected in the state only some twelve percent was returned, to comprise almost the total state budget, was frequently mentioned. Thus the locals blamed the chilango tyrants, among other things, for every inadequacy on the services provided by the state, and tended to be distrustful, if not downright hostile towards them.

I never liked Quiroga, but I hope he stays as director. Hildeberto said. Suppose he's fired and replaced with a chilango. Can you imagine the situation? Finding ourselves between chilangos and gringos?"

Whatch it guys. I said. You're falling into the steep incline of one of the greatest evils of mankind: xenophobia and racism.

A very dramatic phrase Miguel…but I'm not xenophobic or racist…I just hate chilangos and gringos. Gilberto said.

We all laughed. And Negroes, Germans and French? I asked.

Oh yea, those too…well, are you suggesting we kiss the gringos asses when then came?

Stop it Gilberto. Hildeberto said. That's not what he suggested and you know it…now let's discuss the important issue. Shall we accept our transfer to Dillon?

Do we have a choice? I asked.

Of course we do…Quiroga said, or lead us to think, that the engineering department will disappear. It will be absorbed by Dillmex, but we are under no obligation to work for another company. We can go to the Public Relations department and request our transfer to another department within the plant. They will have to do it or give us a pink slip and our money.

I wouldn't like to be fired at the present time…not even for the money involved. I said.

That's because you're single Miguel, you have a place to live of your own, you have money in the bank and you speak English. I pay rent, have a family to support and my English is lousy.

Oh yeah, everybody gives me that line every time.

Well, I don't like to make waves. Gilberto said. And I would like to know how the others feel about it.

Let's find out. Hildeberto said and signaled Gilberto to follow him.

There you go trouble maker.

I turned to Ricardo. You're not worried about your labor rights are you?

Of course not. I've been with the company less than a year. If thing turn out badly, I'm sure I can find a job in another company. Also I can return to the United States. I'm an American citizen.

Why don't you? What keeps you away from the land of the free? Ricardo was twenty years. The quiet intellectual type. Michael Douglas with glasses.

That's precisely what brought me here…the freedom. My father found it excessive. At the time I was seventeen and my sister fifteen. She started dating three guys at the same time. I got mixed up in a gang. My father thought very soon she would start screwing everyone in sight and I would start using drugs, or selling them, or both. So suddenly he quit his job, sold the house and the car, told us to pack and brought us here.

Do you think he was right?

"Most probably he was. Most families in our neighborhood has the same problem…and it was not a chicano neighborhood…we lived in a white middle class neighborhood."

But let me tell you something. He continued. When we arrived here, Monterrey seemed to us the most hideous place on earth…the dirt…the beggars…the slums in the outskirts of the town…these dirty old buses spilling fumes. Jesus, what a dump!…and I could hardly speak Spanish. The kids in school laughed at me every time I opened my mouth. I felt abandoned in hell. I never hated anyone in my life as I hated my father those days.

You still miss Chicago?

No, not anymore. Mainly because I got used to this town. The scene is the same, but somehow you get used to it. In six months I was able to master Spanish completely. I finished high school. I made friends. I was hired here to give English classes to some managers. Quiroga was one of my students. One day he told me there was a pile o drawings in English left behind after the third expansion program that required being sorted out and filed… and asked me whether I was Interested in the job. I did and here I am.

Ricardo was the only person hired in the last two years in spite of the fact them more than forty people defected. Also he seemed to be the only one with something to do.

Did you ever work in Chicago?

Yeah…I had a couple of summer jobs in a sporting good store.

Did you felt slave driven?

No…not really…anyway I didn't have any point of comparison then. Over there you have to earn your salary. Over here you may have to or you may not. I would say over the there the amount of work is more balanced. Everybody works. In here some people have to work their asses off while some other gets paid to scratch their balls.

Don't look at me Richard…you know it's not my fault.

He laughed. "Yeah, but that proves my point. Anyway I agree with you, some gringos are very nice and some others are real bastards. I hope we don't get the latter in Dillmex.

During the next week the main topic of conversation and discussion in the office was Dillmex. About half the people felt threatened. A group of fourteen rebels led by Hildeberto got an appointment with the head of Public Relations and requested their transfer to another department.

Upon hearing about their request, Quiroga summoned everyone for another meeting in his office. He was boiling red. He said someone was spreading rumors very pendejos (extremely stupid). That we shouldn't listen to them. He stated that our labor rights would not be jeopardized, since our paychecks would be coming from Fundidora and he gave us his word of honor to that effect."

After the meeting I stopped to talk with Jorge. He was sharpening a pencil sitting behind his drawing table. Are you reassured now Jorge? He had been thirty years with the company and was one of the rebels.

"Are you kidding Miguel? If this company was still private I might have believed him, but this is government. This company is run by chilango politicians…and you know, when a fucking politician says something is not going to happen, it happens. I'm more convinced more now than ever that the company wants to play dirty."

The next day I passed Hildeberto's cubicle. He was behind his desk reading a newspaper. As always, we wore a guayabera that hung loose on his skinny frame. "Hi…are you still spreading pendejo rumors?" I asked him.

He looked up and laughed. Not any more. Quiroga convinced me I was mistaken. I decided to bet on Dillmex.

"Really?. and are you going to convince the rest of your group? They seem to be more nervous than ever.

I did try…and failed. I'm distrustful by nature but I listen to reasons. These assholes do not.

But isn't that treason?…start a rebellion and then joining the enemy?

Not in this case. I didn't start a rebellion…I just showed them there was another way…and what the hell they're adults…hey look at that

I turned. Quiroga was entering the area accompanied by half a dozen strangers. They seemed to be inspecting the cubicles, the desk and the available space. Quiroga was in his shirt sleeves while the strangers wore suits and ties. The strangers had another thing in common. They all had pink white faces.

TWO – THE BALL STARTS ROLLING

The Americans selected available cubicles and desks and settled. For a few days they had apparently nothing to do. They would sit on their desks reading books or the newspaper. They would stand up and walk around the office to stretch their legs and return to their desks looking bored.

I was tempted to offer them a lecture on idleness. One or twice they would get together for a chat, and sooner or later, probably out of a joke, a very loud laughter erupted from the group.

On one of those occasions I turned to Ricardo and said. A crowd so jolly can't be too bad…don't you think?

He smiled. I would like to know who is who. I know that the big guy, The John Wayne type that took the office beside Quiroga's is Fred Norton their boss, but I know nothing about the rest.

I understand. I said. that the Tony Perkins type is James Whitcombe, he's British and he will manage the concentrating plant…the one that tries to look like Burt Lancaster is James Gilbert, he will manage the slurry line and the fat one that looks like Brian Dennehy is Tom Murdoch…he will manage the palletizing plant in Monclova. I'm not sure about the rest.

Ricardo was a movie fan like me and often we describe people by comparing them with movie stars he or she resembled the most. He described me as a Dustin Hoffman type.

Brian Dennehy !…no way Brian is a beast. This guy Murdoch has a very kind face, and anyway, don't you think they should have been introduced?

I do, but you know Quiroga, he's probably waiting until we are formally working for Dillmex.

And when will than happen?

When the ball starts rolling

The quietness of the office didn't last long. A girl was hired as Manager of Public Relations. I had seen her before around the plant. She was dark, slightly overweight and not very good looking. She was the daughter of an engineer who worked in the plant and Quiroga's friend. She started hiring personnel, purchasing office equipment and modifying the office space. The ball started rolling without us.

The office was a beehive of activity. Carpenters arrived and made a new series of cubicles. We saw new people every day. The place was crowded in spite of the fact that sixteen persons from our previous staff left their places to work in other departments within the plant.

One day arriving to the office I met a friend from the Accounting Department. He was carrying to his cars a bunch of books and a couple of ashtrays.

What's up Rolando, are you leaving us? I asked him

We all are, the whole department is leaving. Those fucking Dillonians want the whole building for themselves.

The accounting department occupied the right wing of the building which was located exactly in the city limit with neighboring towns Guadalupe and San Nicolás. The building was beside the Fundidora's flat products division and originally planned for their personnel but by the time it was finished it was too small for them so it was assigned to us.

That's good news. I said We need it.

We…have you been assigned to Dillmex?

Not yet…apparently there's an agreement to be signed. It's not Dillon's fault…you know how slow Fundidora's wheels move sometimes…I hope it will happen soon?

Do you like those fucking gringos? He seemed surprised.

I don't know them well to say so…however I like the way they work, and there's some details that makes you like them.

Like what?

Have you ever wondered why no gringo has his name on the parking slots in front of the building?

I suppose the girl from public relations have been to busy to look that matter up.

On the contrary…that's the first she did on arrival. She made the list assigning Morton the place closest to the entrance, the same as Quiroga on the other side of the door. In Norton side all his managers will follow in accordance with the importance of the project. She secured Quiroga's approval first and then took the list to Norton. Surprisingly Norton rejected it. He said they didn't want any special privileges…how about that!

Really?..is that the way they work in the United States? He seemed amazed.

Well, apparently that's the way they do it in Japan…and it works for them. It makes the subordinates feel less subordinate and the superiors feel less superior. Some Americans recently adopted the system. It should have been a lesson for Quiroga, he should have followed suit, but he didn't.

And he never will; can you imagine him looking for a place to park in the backyard? I would like to see that.

So do I.

Accounting moved to a nearby building in the street. Dillon started to move the Purchasing, Accounting and Programming departments to the vacated space. Some four months have elapsed since the gringos arrived when Celestina, the public relations girl, told us that everything have been arranged for our transfer to Dillmex. I was told to present myself to Jack Orwell in Purchasing.

Both wings of the building were separated by a well kept garden some fifty yards long by thirty yards wide. The wings were communicated with each other by aisles around the garden. I walked the west aisle to the left wing. Purchasing occupied the section nearest the garden. I walked past three rows of cubicles facing each other to an open area where three desks faced two larger cubicles.

I saw Orwell sitting behind his desk in the larger one. However I went to the desk where three girls were typing. The one nearest Orwell office was occupied by an efficient looking girl some ten years older that the other two.

Morning…are you Orwell's secretary? I gave her my best smile. We have seen each other before and exchanged a few words.

Yes…you want to talk to him. She returned my smile

That's right…apparently I've been assigned to this department..

Well, welcome to the clan…if you wait a minute I'll walk in with you to translate.

That won't be necessary…I speak English.

Then go right in.

I rapped slightly on the open door and entered his office. He was a big guy about forty, slightly overweight with red hair and mustache. He had cold blue eyes.

Mr. Orwell, I'm Miguel Robles, I belong to the group assigned to Dillmex. Celina told me to talk to you.

Oh yes. He reached for a folder and extracted a sheet of paper. I have your resume here…sit down. He looked at it for a few seconds. It says here that your present position is Import Administrator. I don't know what that is…can you explain it to me.

I sat down and smiled. That's a good question. The position did not exist in the company. It was invented to justify a certain salary. I've always been a sort of Friday man. Translations, writing up reports, contracts and import permits, both in English and Spanish.

During our last expansion program my duty was to write a two inch thic document called Quarterly Physical Progress Report for the Export-Import Bank in Washington to justify expenditures that amounted to two hundred million dollars.

Impressive task…but your salary, it says here is twenty thousand pesos, seems to me a little low for that kind of work.

I'm glad you think so…that's the way Quiroga punishes me because I don't treat him like a god…like almost all the rest.

He smiled. I see…so you're studying at night for a bachelor degree …

Someone entered the office with some typed purchase orders which he left on one corner of his desk, obviously for signature. He was a man of about forty .with curly hair and dark features.

Pancho this is Miguel Robles, he will be working for us. Miguel, he's Francisco Vidal, my best buyer.

We shook hands. A gleam of recognition came into his eyes, but he said nothing besides murmuring a welcome and left.

Where the hell have I seen you before Vidal?

Suddenly it came to me. In a whorehouse. I had gone there with a couple of school mates a couple of years ago. When we entered the joint looking for a table, one of my schoolmates saw his brother sitting in a table with another man. The other man was Vidal. We all sat together and introductions were made.

A little later when Vidal left with a girl, the guy he was sitting with, told us he had a small shop where he manufacture special screws and Vidal was a buyer from PEMEX (the national oil company) and a greedy one. Besides entertainment, which invariably included drinks and girls, he demanded a fifteen percent 'commission' on any order he placed.

How about that?

What the hell are you doing in Dillmex Vidal?

Obviously you didn't left such a profitable job voluntarily.

Do you have any experience as a buyer Miguel?

I have done everything; locate vendors in the Thomas Register, request quotation, make comparative studies of equipment, except placing the order. Quiroga does that.

Good, I need at least another buyer to handle imports and you speak English better than Vidal, you want the job?

Of course.

He explained my duties for a few minutes. Even with our expansion to this wing, we're still a little crowed, but I have a place for you, come with me.

He got up and I followed him to one of the aisles and to the open left wing area. There was a row of newly made cubicles behind the purchasing department open main area, separated by a wooden partition and facing an open area cluttered with desks. He told me that some of those cubicles were occupied by Expediting, part of the Purchasing department. We stopped in an empty cubicle.

This will be your place and pointing to a place where some desk and chairs were piled against the wall. You can take what you need from there.

He looked at my slim lightweight frame. If you need help to move the desk, ask the janitor to help you.

How about that!

My own stall after a twenty year wait.

I selected a chair and a book chair from the pile and moved them inside the cubicle. I measured the available space to see it one of the larger desks would fit in. I found it would. There was enough space for a couple of extra chairs. I went to the pile, selected a desk and started to push it towards the cubicle.

Hi. Somebody said behind my back. I turned. It was Fred Morton, no less. Are you working for purchasing?

Yes, I'm just starting…I'm Miguel Robles. I held his penetrating gaze."

Look Miguel, I have a problem. He said looking at me and at the cubicle alternatively. "I'm looking for a place to locate Greg