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Airport
Tampering
Under World Bank pressures, Honduras proceeded to privatize several
national entities: among these, the national airports.
Rich companies have been granted access to invest at ridiculous amounts in
Third World countries like ours. The bottom line is to stall the internal
functions of the countries amongst other things, thus weakening them even
further.
InterAirports
was granted the concession of the national airports after winning the bid
with no money, but a lot of ambition. Since day one it raised all fares
and rates, monopolizing importation fees and the flow of people.
After the initial pitch in of US$125 million destined to improve the
category of Honduras’ airports, we now face matters that have not been
accomplished by InterAirports. All this contractual jargon is a mystery to
us. Vital information concerning guarantees to the Government of Honduras
are totally obscure. “How obscene! Don’t you think so?”
No one seems to be responsible on how the basis of this bid came about.
Nor is there a reason to have granted InterAirport the concession over a
Canadian company, whose bid, some say was lower. This company who still
holds the grant to carry on remodeling and making improvements, simply
blames the Government of Honduras, using this as excuse to not complete
the dismantling of the hangars of the extinct Honduran airline TAN SAHSA,
a task we do not consider of such great magnitude.
The worst part of this: “Dealing with the Devil” as it was said of the
banana companies in the past, is: all codes of national and international
security, and of internal affaires have been violated, exposing us
nationally and internationally. The only difference between InterAirports
and the previous customs service is that the floors are swept more often
and there are more workers to carry cargo. Bureaucracy within the company
grew thanks to gargantuan profits. But, of course, the best move this
company made was to increase by 1700% the cost of handling cargo, not to
mention other import/export duties.
ANDI (National Association of Industries) has complained several times
about this company that has not only increased prices for the different
industries that require its services, but also hinders their operations.
Many countries that have experienced “privatization” are now slowing
starting to recover their own concessions, after having endangered their
own security and not stimulated national investors. Parallel to these
“privatization’s” the concept of “globalization” comes into play
dragging the currency into a spiral due to low production, such as in
Argentina. The formula to make things work and provide a national benefit
is hard to work out. Maybe combining national partnerships, and slowing
granting administrative control after the companies have proved themselves
is a better idea.
The InterAirport case is a delicate one as it has several overlapping
roofs. This concession should be submitted to the National Congress once
again, with it’s only mission being the search for emerging regulations.
For example: in case of war, invasion, national calamity, or any other
emergency, it’s control over customs, traffic, migration etc., should be
dismantled. If we analyze the magnitude of the control that this company
exerts, we would quickly learn that, not only personnel, and explosive
material flow but that also migration is restricted and regulated by
InterAirport.
Nothing more obscure is happening in our country than this matter. This is
time to ask the questions such as: “Who on Earth gave away the
“doors” to our country?” “Is there an evaluation on what has been
carried out by this company?” “Does the government have to wait 20
years to not renew the ‘income’ of this company who has become wealthy
in just a few months, and or, can we examine what has not been
accomplished at this time, and penalize them?”
It would seem there is always a knife at our throat, “Why are we so
incompetent in Honduras?”
Letter from Honduras: On owls, sheep and tennis
By NIGEL POTTER
It almost felt like what I used to call Home: I heard an owl calling, a sheep bleating outside my door and a couple of lassies came to the house to ask me about tennis.
Tennis! Here in Honduras! I don’t think I have seen a court in 10 years. Still they aim to ask me about the game for some weird school project. You might as well as try describing it to a Martian as to two school girls who knew absolutely nothing about the sport at all, barely even having heard I of it. I did my best, explaining the basic idea but lost then on the scoring. It’s not like football, I said, nothing like one-nil, one all, two-one, etc. rather more complicated. The first point is worth 15, the second 30, and the third 40 unless the other player equalizes, then it’s deuce until one of the players gains an “advantage.” And if you score nothing at least you have got love. But in tennis that’s not worth much because if love is all you got, you got nothing. The girls gave me that withering look that only teenage girls can do so well, thanked me politely for my time and trouble and went away leaving a trail of crazy but harmless bubbles behind them.
The owls were something else. Their haunting cries at night in the woods behind my home in Scotland always moved my deeply occasionally at dusk one would fly in front or past me, or I would see one perched on the post of a farm fence. I have never understood how their mystic hooting has anything to do with the twit - twit - two of children’s story books which is far too cozy, a million miles away from that desolate and lonesome cry across the dark woods so I missed the owls until the other night. They are called buhos in Spanish and that is exactly how they sound in Honduras. “Listen” my wife suddenly, said to me, “there’s an owl!” I didn’t believe it at first, it sounded almost like a dove cooing, but it was unmistakable, there was no doubt about it, the call was different but the voice and tone was pure owl: Bu - ho. I have heard it several times since and even once, the old Scottish hooting I know and love so well. They are sacred animals to me, somehow kindred spirits. And if I want really lonesome cries there are always the howls of the coyotes that I am sure will soon be investigating our sheep.
I bought one of the half - dozen sheep that exist in Honduras (I exaggerate, there must be at least ten) to eat because after ten years I suddenly had a craving for roast lamb and mint sauce. He looks rather more like a goat than a white woolly British sheep, not black - faced nor white but a reddish, rusty color and a loud bleat to go with it a not to mention the over-powering strong urine. He reminds me more of the sheep one sees everywhere in Morocco on the eve of the great Muslim festival when every family slaughters a sheep to celebrate Isaac’s sacrifice of one instead of his son: slung across Bikes, on the back of motor-scooters, on the tops of Buses, munching their last supper of grass on a thousand roofs. My older boy torments my youngest about our own forthcoming sacrifice. He just can’t wait to see the blood spilt and get his hands on a good lump of roast. The little one weeps bitterly, No kill sheep, he cries. I can’t say I am looking forward to the execution myself but if we don’t eat him the coyotes once they discover this large, strange animal is easy game, will. And I too do so much want my roast lamb.
Still for all the hooting owls and bleating sheep, I couldn’t be fooled for long but I was long a way from my old home when the other evening shots rang out. Two young men got drunk, got their revolver and went looking for another against whom they had some grudge over a bike. They found him and fired several shots all of which missed they were so drunk. They went on their merry way and were crossing local football field when they came across another young man on his way back to his house. “Boasting bastard!” They jeered, “Swanky Frankie” all of which perfectly summed up their victim though it hardly justified what they did next - they embraced him, pinion his arms, pressed the barrel of the gun in the stomach and pulled the trigger - click - gun empty. Swanky Frankie, when he realized to utter astonishment he was still alive, being a hefty lad, grabbed the fun off them and kicked them all the way down to the local nick.
And then suddenly it was back to Scotland. A friend brought me some venison, which we roasted over our wood fire. God, it tasted good - succulent and tender much better than any cow meat you can buy in the market. I hadn’t tasted deer in ten years and never have I seen a live one here yet they were common enough in the “owl woods behind my house back home.” Sad in a way that when one does see a rare animal like a deer here it is immediately killed. There is practically no game now. People are poor and hungry and long ago slaughtered anything that moves and can be eaten. You’ll see more rabbits in the Scottish countryside in ten minutes than you’ll see here in ten years. People here do occasionally eat rabbit but they are specially bred. I ate wild rabbit all the time in Scotland. The meat was tasty and was free and I felt I was striking a blow in defense of my vegetable patch against these marauders. I have never done so here. Eating rabbit is one thing, killing and eating a bunny is quite another.
HONDURAS, OUR ALLY
DEAR HTW:
In reference to the article by Eduardo Sanchez in the June 24 issue of HTW, in which he states Honduras is a firm ally of the United States. If this is so, then why has not the Honduran government made a maximum effort to bring to justice the murderers of 35 U.S. citizens slain since 1995 by thugs who roam about freely plying their murderous rampage on innocent human beings?
As to amnesty for illegal aliens, this is against the immigration laws of our country, such as they are. These illegals would do much better by staying in their respective countries of origin and trying to improve their lot and those of their fellow citizens by eliminating corruption and taking an active role in seeking a better way of life. Moreover, illegal aliens do not pay U.S. income tax and thus deprive our treasury of billions of dollars. Paying income taxes would uncover their illegal status and make them subject to deportation. It is estimated that there are more than ten million illegal aliens in the United States and among them were the terrorists who destroyed thousands of lives and the World Trade Towers and severely damaged the Pentagon also taking a sizeable toll in human lives.
As for foreign aid, well and good, but, how much of this aid gets to the people and not to the pockets of corrupt officials? Charity begins at home and there are many of our citizens who live on the edge of poverty. Aid should be given in the form of services such as the Peace Corps. John F. Kennedy stated that one cannot put a tractor in a Swiss bank and backed this up by initiating the Peace Corps in lieu of handing over cash. Foreign aid should be given only in the case of natural disasters as Hurricane Mitch and the like and then closely monitored to see it is properly distributed. We cannot be the world’s bankers forever. The bank will break eventually.
Mr. Dee Belveal has every right to express his opinion as do Mr. Sanchez, and I. We also have the right to disagree. HTW is a free press and does an admirable job of allowing freedom of expression.
A. Wilson
Via Internet
ZERO TOLERANCE
Dear HTW:
Re “Zero Tolerance,” Democracy does not end with mere elections. The fruits & obligations continue, as the populace has to hold its elected officials accountable for their promises & actions.
The Honduran press does a courageous job, for the most part, in providing information to the public, but the public must respond. Whining about misfortunes or running off to another country where others have made their system work does nothing to benefit Honduras. Saying “but I am only one” is cowardliness, laziness: Human history is replete with solitary individuals who, for better or worse, changed the course of history single-handedly.
Ultimately, the people end up with the government they deserve.
Sincerely,
Ed Elsner
Via Internet
CONGRATULATIONS HTW
Dear HTW,
I wish to congratulate you on your Online edition of “Honduras This Week.” It keeps me abreast of the goings-on in Honduras. For me, this is important because I plan on relocating to Honduras within the next 30 to 60 days. Although I am retired, I will not follow the seemingly standard trail of retirees. This translates to a yen for mountain scenery, cool air, rivers, waterfalls, caves and simple living arrangements. After much consideration, I have chosen the department of Lempira.
Because I plan on living in a so-called remote area, I wish to express my thanks to Nigel Potter for his writings concerning other-than-tourist areas. I also give thanks to Harold Rosenzweig for his articles about Copan and Honduras’ tourism in general. And, of course, I thank “Honduras This Week” (Online Edition) for publishing these articles so that I can read them in my home in California. Please keep up the good work, referring, not exclusively, to Mr. Potter, Mr. Rosenzweig and
HTW.
Sincerely,
Jack Simpson, Jr.
Prather, California
Via Internet
IT’S ABOUT TIME
DEAR HTW:
I was very glad to hear the great news about the new Honduran airline SOL AIR, is about time somebody created some competition in the area this is needed to promote tourism in the area. With the actual price other airlines are charging which is about over $600.00 for a round trip to Honduras you can get a vacation package including hotel and meals to many destinations in Mexico or U. S. , I hope the best for SOL AIR and I’m ready to support their effort please let us know what cities they will be serving in the U.S. and any web page or phone number we can call to make reservations.
Luis Rosales
Houston, Texas
Via Internet
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A preliminary report on Roatan’s National and Preventive Police Force
By EVA BROOKS
Special to Honduras This Week
ROATAN — Any visitor to Roatan would be impressed with the yellow painted, just about one-year-old police station on top of a hill between Sandy Bay and Coxen Hole. Sitting in from of the station you can experience a gentle breeze, can look down on the busy main road and let your eyes sweep over Roatan’s famous verdant, rich and peaceful green hills. It is a charming view.
The police station is sparkling clean, furnished with huge desks, one electric typewriter, a nice reception room with one phone, beautiful wooden chairs and a long bench. There are also three prison cages each usually occupied by several prisoners, sleeping quarters for staff, kitchen facilities and a beautifully appointed office for the Commissioner or Comisario Abraham Figueroa. The comisario also has a computer and a phone.
A volunteer at the mayor’s office at the municipals in Coxen Hole, Vivian Kivett de Tugliani had kindly made an appointment for me with the Comisario for 10.00 am on Thursday, June 27th. When I arrived on the dot with my bi-lingual, and very smart housekeeper, Arfa Conners, the Comisario was not there. Nevertheless my interview commenced with Lieutenant Maradiaga. He spoke some English, but found it easier to speak Spanish with Arfa, who translated for me. Maradiaga eagerly answered all of my questions and was most cooperative. He asked who I was, what newspaper I wrote for and generally understood the importance of getting facts to the public and consequently to the powers that be - the government - or anyone who could and would hopefully correct situations detrimental to Roatan’s citizen’s welfare and safety.
During our interview several police officers - all dressed in excellent, well-fitted and good looking uniforms, each carrying a gun, looked over our shoulders, sometimes offered opinions, and for the most part just stood around. They seemed to have a lot time to talk to me, they are on duty 24 hours for 14 days. They get time off to see their families every 15 days. They get three meals each day at the station. Behind the main building is a sort of recreation room with a Ping-Pong table and so on. Clearly this is not a bad life for these men. There seems to be camaraderie among the men and some women and everyone looked happy. Their salary is now Lempira 4,000.00 - over last year’s pay of L 3,000-. The minimum educational requirement is the completion of sixth grade. Each of the man had three months of training, and “practice with guns every day.”
When a “call” comes in -a report of a murder, a robbery or theft, a rape or a wife-beating, a serious quarrel, which may include the use of weapons, etc.- and if there is a vehicle available, (there are three vehicles attached to this station, the man will try to get to the place from which the call originated. If there is no vehicle several officers walk down the hill, hail a cab, which is paid for by the policeman. I hope I got this information correctly, but I did ask twice, there is no petty cash! Of course not too many calls actually come in.
Islanders, based on bad past experiences have very little or no confidence in the police’s effectiveness, efficiency and cooperation. I asked how many calls within a twenty-four hour period on the average would come in, but did not get a clear answer. I asked about maps that would help officers to locate the place from where the call announcing a crime was made. Sometimes the caller is able to give directions, but most often not. Sometimes the cabdriver is able to help to find the place, frequently not. This bought up the subject of maps. There are several maps tacked on the wall donated by The Bay island Conservation Association (BICA) and others, but neither was specific enough to find the often hidden locations. This is partly due to Roatan’s intricate geography, which includes bays, bites, keys, deep forests, lagoons and so on.
However there are excellent and very detailed maps with satellite photographs which gives specific information of each section of the island. These maps are at the municipal office in Coxen Hole. According to Lieutenant Maradiaga these were not made available to the National Police. “They wanted us to pay for the cost of the rather complicated processes involved in the duplication of such maps. And he said, in English so I would get it, “We don’t have that kind of money.” This situation seemed to be a personal affront to this lieutenant!
I then asked point blank, “What other complaints would you like to share with us?” I got a list from Lieutenant Maradiaga: No paper, no pens, no pencils, paperclips, flashlights, rain-ponchos, first aid kits, and most important of all communication systems. Two phones and one radio and intercom, I guess, is inadequate. And, he said in English, “We need English speaking officers, beside myself.”
Fighting crime, or as President Maduro’s slogan goes Zero Tolerance, is a complicated, expensive, enterprise and involves careful planning, monitoring and detailed instructions. It appears here from the partial evidence that there is a serious disconnect between what the police should and could do, given proper direction, adequate training, and generous support, which does include communication systems, vehicles and paper and pencil for record keeping.
There is much the police could do on this island that would be at least a partial deterrent. Policemen stationed here are not constructively engaged in the important process of deterrence, that is preventing crime, or in the pursuance of criminals. The process of catching a criminal offender is further complicated because witnesses must be produced who are willing to corroborate the crime committed. Clearly this is not always possible, since break-ins, etc take most often place at night or in the dark.
Clearly officers “waiting for a call” are not instructed to police neighborhoods, by car, motorcycle, bicycle, horse or donkey. Of course, most members of the National Police are not intimately acquainted with Roatan’s various neighborhoods and its many hidden places. Wouldn’t it be a great idea to assign small groups, who alternately do some “sight seeing”, learn about the island, talk to people, in short make their presence known. Might that develop trust and confidence in the police and consequently in the government generally. I live in Sandy Bay, spend much of my time on my porch, and so do almost all m y neighbors. None of us have ever seen a policeman!
There is another procedure for reporting a crime. That is, after it happened you go to the district attorney’s office located in the Cooper Building Nr.2 and record the event. You tell your story as specific as possible, adding date, hour, the number of perpetrators, nature and severity of the crime, including items stolen, a list of jewelry, small appliances, money, watches etc. This is recorded in Spanish; you need a translator, with great specificity and detail.
It has been a mystery to many others and me what happens to these reports. I made such a report some time ago, when my house was broken into. The ways and means of the break in was minutely recorded, list of stolen items carefully spelled out, date and time registered, number and looks of perpetrators noted, etc. So far nothing has happened. Of course, it is only four months ago, I am still hoping.
The above is an interim report. I am still hoping to meet with Comisario Abraham Figuerea. I am interested to find out if there is a process for fingerprinting offenders, what kind of record keeping is used, what happens to a criminal while he is in prison, what can be done to connect his men with the various neighborhoods, be a visible presence and so on.
Further can the “waiting for a call” police officers, continue their own education, reading appropriate books, see relevant educational videos, sharpen their wit with computer games, play chess, etc. Times, a very precious commodity, should be used creatively and productively. Am I asking for the moon?
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