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“Look at my hands. Do you see pretty hands with painted nails? No. These are the hands of a working woman. ” —Vicki Ponce, Electronics Recycler

REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK: Ingrid Lobet

When I met Vicki Ponce, I was surprised at the level of siege she and her business partners had to endure as they fought to create a recycling shop in their town. Small towns can be insular and intolerant, sure. But the hostility in Fronteras, in the northern Mexican state of Sonora, bordered on vicious.

Vicki and her colleagues (they're known in Fronteras as Las Chicas Bravas, or "The Tough Girls") told me about a time when they when they left a meeting, and townspeople surrounded them, blocking any escape. The crowd began jeering. Someone yelled, "Tough girls! Not so tough now, are you, now that we've got you corralled?" Children held up placards. One said: Fuera Chicas Bravas de Fronteras! ("Out of Fronteras, Tough Girls!")

"How do you think it made us feel?" Vicki asked me. "These were our neighbors. All we were doing was trying to create employment for as many of them as possible."

For a while, as I poked around Fronteras, I thought there might be a religious angle hiding in this story. I've been in small towns in Latin America where Catholics and evangelical Christians spread mean rumors about each other. Maybe that would explain the rage the Chicas seemed to engender. But Vicki and the other core members of the recycling group have no church in common. Even Vicki and her husband attend different churches. Religious tolerance may be one kind that does exist in Fronteras.

So what was the Chicas' crime? Why are some locals, including the mayor, so incensed by their efforts? I think it's partly the fact that Vicki and the others have refused to pay bribes. And that they have the temerity to insist on working into middle age. In Mexico, job ads still openly require attractive, young candidates, and older workers find it almost impossible to compete.

REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK: Ingrid Lobet

When I met Vicki Ponce, I was surprised at the level of siege she and her business partners had to endure as they fought to create a recycling shop in their town. Small towns can be insular and intolerant, sure. But the hostility in Fronteras, in the northern Mexican state of Sonora, bordered on vicious.

Vicki and her colleagues (they're known in Fronteras as Las Chicas Bravas, or "The Tough Girls") told me about a time when they when they left a meeting, and townspeople surrounded them, blocking any escape. The crowd began jeering. Someone yelled, "Tough girls! Not so tough now, are you, now that we've got you corralled?" Children held up placards. One said: Fuera Chicas Bravas de Fronteras! ("Out of Fronteras, Tough Girls!")

"How do you think it made us feel?" Vicki asked me. "These were our neighbors. All we were doing was trying to create employment for as many of them as possible."

For a while, as I poked around Fronteras, I thought there might be a religious angle hiding in this story. I've been in small towns in Latin America where Catholics and evangelical Christians spread mean rumors about each other. Maybe that would explain the rage the Chicas seemed to engender. But Vicki and the other core members of the recycling group have no church in common. Even Vicki and her husband attend different churches. Religious tolerance may be one kind that does exist in Fronteras.

So what was the Chicas' crime? Why are some locals, including the mayor, so incensed by their efforts? I think it's partly the fact that Vicki and the others have refused to pay bribes. And that they have the temerity to insist on working into middle age. In Mexico, job ads still openly require attractive, young candidates, and older workers find it almost impossible to compete.

But I suspect that their biggest transgression is simply refusing to accept their circumstances. They are striving. Their entrepreneurialism is subversive. They dare to have modest, rather than truly low, expectations. And for that they inspire envy, and resentment. continued »

Now the recycling business is growing, and Vicki is earning money. And, quiere o no quiere — whether she wants to or not — she's helping make Mexico a place where success isn't only about bribes, birthright, and connections. Sometimes, Vicki says, effort and steadfastness are enough to get you through.

// posted by Alice @ Thursday, April 30, 2009