Domestic workers Tony Marmalejo and Fidelia Rodam share their heroic stories about their immigration to the United States.
BY REECE LOOK
EL NUEVO SOL
Fidelia Rodam, a 47-year-old domestic worker rakes the stray hay out of a horse stable in a Sun Valley home in California. She immigrated from Aguacatan, a Mayan town in Western Guatemala, when she was only twelve years old in 1984. She is responsible for all the housekeeping duties at least once a week for $200 per week. This involves indoor cleaning as well as keeping the acre-long La Tuna Canyon home tidy. The horse arena in the backyard requires an enormous amount of upkeep that keeps Rodam busy from 10:00 am to 6:00 pm.
Rodam is one of the estimated 300,000 domestic workers living in Los Angeles County today. On a broader scope, she works for one of two million domestic employers just in the state of California alone. “Profiles, Practices, and Needs of California’s Domestic Work Employers”, a study by the UCLA Labor Center, also outlines that 16 percent of these employers hire for housecleaning, or for child and home care. Not to mention that housecleaning is more popular than home and child care combined at 54 percent. Another fact from the study shows that Rodam was employed by a white family; which UCLA ranks this ethnicity as the most common in California to hire domestic workers. Over half the domestic employer population of California is white, while the other 43 percent is made up of a combined group of Latino, Asian, mixed, and many other races. Chances are, if you are looking for household work in California, then you are going to be hired by a white homeowner. Rodam certainly was no different when she was job hunting.
Today, Rodam enjoys her status as a citizen of America. However, the road that got her to this point was an arduous one. She recalls many sleepless nights as a teenager, out in the Sierra Madre mountains, terrified of “la migra”. She said that her real challenge coming from Central America was to evade not only Guatemala, but America’s immigration police as well. Rodam and her family were forced to band together with other refugees who were also seeking better employment or just a safer living environment. The Guatemalan military killed 150,000 people during the early 1980s, primarily Mayan people; 100,000 were refugees in Mexico (some, like Rodam) came to the U.S.
During these murders and escape from the Guatemalan military in 1986, Rodam also witnessed terrifying sights such as the Mexican border patrol hovering over her and her group of 50 migrants in a helicopter; while dropping water on their camps in order to extinguish their fires that they desperately needed for warmth. A few days later on a rainy night in January, Rodam heard the pounding hoof beats of the Guatemalan military’s cavalry mercilessly riding towards them. Rodam and her group narrowly evaded their gaze by hiding on the embankment of a deserted road while flashlights danced over their heads. Time and time again this was the sleepless cycle in which Rodam was pinched in between two determined countries’ plans to keep her and her fellow refugees behind borders.
Beads of sweat start to form on her forehead as she pronounces her story to me while shoveling horse poop out of the arena. It was 83 degrees in Sun Valley, but that did not stop Rodam from getting her job done. In her mind, she articulated that her journey to get here was worth it and she would not trade her life now for anything else.
“Now, I make more [money] than I would have if I stayed in Guatemala. I came here in order to escape the poverty that my family has been struggling with our whole lives,” Rodam says.
Maria Verza, a journalist from apnews.com, said, “…in Guatemala poverty and a lack of jobs is the main reason people flee their nation of 17 million,” (“Poverty, Unemployment, Violence Drive Guatemalan Emigration”). Rodam believes that even if she stayed in her home country, went to school, and got a degree, that her family’s relentless poverty would still be the underlying factor of why she would not be able to make a comfortable living. This is why Rodam was faced with the toughest decision of her life when entering into her teenage years: a journey into the unknown, or continue to struggle in Guatemala.
“My family has been poor for many generations before me, so I decided to be the one to try and end this disease that has affected us so much,” Rodam said.
Nowadays we hear a lot about what it takes to cross the Mexican-American border. However, Rodam says that this was not nearly as difficult as crossing the Guatemalan-Mexican border. Being from western Guatemala, Rodam had to pass through dangerous water canals on her way to Mexico. Numerous times she lost family members and friends to either the rapids or a crocodile attack.
“Our makeshift rafts weren’t enough to keep away the crocodiles,” Rodam says, “My aunt’s neighbor was pulled into the water and we had to just keep going.”
***
The story of 52-year-old Tony Marmalejo, my former nanny is, somewhat different. Unlike Rodam, she had a slightly different journey to California and is currently acting on an overstayed visa. While nervously tapping on her coffee mug, she shared her story.
Growing up in Guanajuato, a central Mexican city known for its colonial architecture and silver mining, Marmalejo experienced violence like no other.
According to “USA Today”, the segment on “The Migrants” says, “Historically, 90% of the migrants who illegally crossed the southwest border of the United States came from Mexico.”
“Gang violence was always a presence throughout my entire life,” Marmalejo says, “whether they were personally trying to rob me or threatening me to work for them.”
However, she does clarify that the main reason she reluctantly left her mother behind in Mexico, was a reason similar to Rodam’s. Marmalejo was in her early 20’s pursuing a career as a secretary for a real estate firm in Mexico. She realized that she could make a better living doing almost anything else in California. Marmalejo could not set out at once though. Over the years she saved up enough money to pay for coyotes that smuggle migrants into the U.S.
“The service for me, my mother, and husband cost around 100,000 pesos in order to safely get us passed the Mexican-American border,” she says.
Not only is the price outrageous at over $5,100, but you have to pay that fee every time. There is no round-trip. The first attempt using these illegal coyotes resulted in a failed attempt. Therefore, Marmalejo thought it best to invest time in the long process of obtaining a temporary, working visa.
The plan Marmalejo had was to keep applying for a visa until she could gain entry into the Untied States. Her and her husband, Jose Hernandez, were able to get a six month visa right away, but her mother was unable due to some medical complications.
Specifically chosen, Marmalejo decided on California as the most suitable for her. She was pleased to hear that California is one of the few states that have a law for domestic workers that enables them to be paid overtime if they work over nine hours a day, or 45 hours a week.
According to a press release from Kamala D. Harris, U.S. Senator for California, she says, “…the first-ever Domestic Workers Bill of Rights Act, which ensures domestic workers- many of whom are women or people of color- have the dignity and respect they deserve.” This recent law was passed earlier this year and further blankets the domestic workers of the U.S. in numerous protections that they need.
“Nothing like this [Domestic Workers Bill of Rights Act] was enacted in Mexico, but this new law further gives me the breathing room I need to bring me to a comfortable level of financial stability,” says Marmalejo, “once again I am reminded why it was the right choice for me to come to the U.S.”
Now comfortably living in North Hollywood, California, Marmalejo and her husband continue to experience hardship. After speaking with them, the main difficulty they are having is getting Hernandez a driver’s license so that he can work. A couple of months back they already had a close call when Hernandez was driving a delivery truck and a cop threatened to proceed with arrest if he did not acquire a license.
Given the difficulty in getting a state license, the two decided to continue to risk it in order to make a living and despite all odds, they seem to be keeping a good attitude. A few hobbies keep them enjoying life even under the circumstances. Marmalejo started her own make-up business known as “Glamorous Choice” and Hernandez finds his passion within his cooking ability. He enjoys barbecuing for guests and continues to expand his culinary knowledge on a wide array of different cultures.
“I just want to be able to put food on the table for my wife, and if I can do that, then God has blessed me with a beautiful life,” Hernandez says.
Not only has the recent Bill of Rights for Domestic Workers improved the quality of life, but it has enticed more migrants to attempt the immigration process. An article from Pew Research Center, states that the number of immigrant women in the U.S. has grown from 2.6 million to 2.8. Out of the almost 3 million, two women Rodam and Marmalejo, one registered and one undocumented, both have finally developed a better understanding of their own “American Dream”.
Tags: domestic workers Fidelia Roman Reece Loock Tony Marmalejo