Danny Jacobson found his birth family with the help of a television announcement

By PETER SIMON

Danny Jacobson is a well-educated, polite, 15-year-old boy from a middle-class, New Jersey family. He ranks among the top 3% of U.S. students in national exams, has had poetry printed in the papers, is a black belt in Karate, and was elected to participate as a student ambassador for his country on a recent trip to Europe. Danny has achieved a lot so far in his life, but had he not been adopted soon after his birth, it could have turned out very differently.

Danny was born to a family in Comayagüela in 1988 at a time when his parents were separated. While his father worked in La Ceiba, his mother struggled to make ends meet, having to make and sell tortillas on the street right up until the point of his birth in a small hut; she didn’t even have time to make it to hospital. Their financial situation, combined with the fact that they had already raised a large family, meant that giving up their new baby for adoption was the only viable option.

Danny Jacobson poses with his parents, Barry and Rena

Many adopted children don’t have access to information about their pre-adoption past, but Danny’s parents, Barry and Rena Jacobson, were always open with him and provided help in finding out about his birth family. However, the company through which they adopted their son had a policy of keeping the child’s background from them. When Danny’s mind became inquisitive enough to want to know about his biological parents, the Jacobson’s did everything possible to track them down. What followed was to become a remarkable story.

At the age of seven, Danny decided that he was ready to try to find out about his origins, but it wasn’t going to be easy given the lack of information allowed to them. He even started taking Spanish lessons so he could communicate with his biological family should he ever meet them.

“We had very little information about Danny’s birth family, so we knew it was going to be difficult,” explained Mr. Jacobson. “But we did know the family’s name, so we started out by going through telephone directories and calling everyone with the same name.”

This proved fruitless, and after three years, their search led them to a priest from Connecticut who had spent time as a missionary in Honduras. He was willing to help and got in touch with Francisco Quin, a contact of his whom worked as an attorney in Tegucigalpa. He agreed to put out a TV commercial with a photo of Danny as a baby.

“After six months we hadn’t heard anything,” said Mr. Jacobson. “We were grateful to the man in Honduras who put out the advertisement but thought that was the end of it.”

Time passed and Danny was losing hope of ever meeting his birth family. In October 1998, he sat watching images and reports of Hurricane Mitch sweeping through Honduras, causing mudslides and flooding never before seen in the country.

“When I saw the reports on Mitch, I thought of my family in Honduras and I thought they would die. I was scared that I would never get to meet them,” Danny said, while speaking on his second visit to the country. “I later learned that one of my relation’s houses had fallen in a mudslide and my mother had to live on the streets for a while.”

Three years later, in March 2000 – some six years after the search started – Danny was sitting in his room doing his algebra homework when his mother came in and said there was as urgent call. His birth mother was at the end of the line waiting to speak to him.

“I was in shock when I first took the call,” recalled Danny. “I was so much in shock that I couldn’t speak and didn’t know what to say. We ended up speaking for about forty-five minutes though.”

It became apparent that the television advertisements had continued to run longer than the Jacobson family had initially thought, as it was through this method that contact was eventually made.

“We have never spoken to the gentleman who ran the advertisement and have no idea how long he ran it for,” explained Mr. Jacobson, “but thanks to him we were able to locate Danny’s birth family.”

Danny’s half sister, Sonia Carolina Flores, was called one night by a friend to tell her she had seen her name on Abriendo Brecha, a popular evening news program. She immediately contacted her mother and the program and it was not long before the Flores family confirmed that the boy in question was their son.

“We never realized that we would ever receive this great surprise,” said Danny’s birth mother, Sonia Lopez Aguilar, who was clearly moved by the chain of events.

It was not long before the two families started to arrange to meet. The Jacobson family sent photos of the teenage Danny to Honduras so that his birth parents had an idea of what he now looked like.

“When I saw the photograph, I realized that he had grown up exactly how I had pictured him in my mind,” said Sonia Lopez.

The reunion at Toncontin airport, Tegucigalpa on February 14, 2001 was an emotional, overwhelming experience, and eighteen members of the Flores family turned out to welcome Danny. Much to his joy, he also realized that his birth father, Santos Samuel Flores, had returned to his wife and family since his adoption.

“It was a very happy occasion and very emotional. My birth mother started crying as soon as she saw me,” explained Danny. “Afterwards we drove straight to our hotel before driving to visit their house the next day. Seeing the city was such a different thing after having imagined it for so long. Their house is about the size of my living room in the U.S., and it is home to about ten people.”

Danny expressed his feelings during that time through poetry. The poem with this article, A Different Kind of Town, reflects what he saw during the first journey up the mountain as he drove to his Honduran family’s house.

Many people might argue that 13 is too young for an adopted child to meet his birth family, but speaking on his second visit to Honduras, Danny shows maturity beyond his years when asked about his feelings on adoption.

“Sometimes I hear people saying that you can’t love an adopted child in the same way,” said Danny. “I think this is ignorant as through adoption, you can help other children who do not have parents. I wish more children were adopted as it would give them a chance in life.”

The decision to give Danny up for adoption was one that his biological mother found very difficult to make and at the time, she never thought she would see him again. The reunion reassured her that he was safe and had been taken in by a caring family.

“I thank God that his parents are good people,” she said. “We are very grateful of Danny’s situation and the opportunity that his parents have given him in life and to track down his own past. I just never thought that he would return.”
“The hard part for my mother now is when he goes home again,” said Sonia Carolina. “When he goes home again, it reminds her of letting go of him fifteen years ago. For her it is another separation.”

She need not worry, as Danny already has firm intentions of returning every other year if possible. Furthermore, his parents have taken it upon themselves to do everything possible to help his biological family, which includes fifteen young nieces and nephews.

“The first time we came here we bought loads of U.S.A. T-shirts and caps,” explained Mr. Jacobson. “However, this time we thought it better to change the focus from entertainment to education so we bought a bag weighing 65 lbs. of second hand clothing as well as enough multivitamins to last the children a year.”

This isn’t all the Jacobson family is doing to help Danny’s birth family. During their second visit to Honduras, they took many of Danny’s nephews and nieces to local markets to buy them school clothes and shoes. They are also funding one of his nephews, Allan Ricardo Lopez, a young boy with a great academic potential, to attend technical college.

It is evident that Danny feels a great deal for his country of origin and already has philanthropic ideas of how he wants to help later in life.

“In New Jersey a lot of people ask me where I am from,” he said. “When I tell them I’m from Honduras, they say it’s a country run by drug lords. This is so ignorant as America has this problem too.

“When I am older I hope to be able to do something great like start some kind of foundation that will help Honduran people,” Danny continued. “I would like to be able to do some volunteer work here at some point too, possibly Peace Corps.”

During his most recent visit, Danny went to meet with Professor Concepcion Ferrufino, chairman of mathematics at the National Autonomous University of Honduras (UNAH). He also runs the “Program for Rescuing Talent in Young People,” a plan whose mission is to help underprivileged children reach their academic potential. A number of students who are helping with the program were also present.

“People like Danny are a great motivation for many Honduran children. He gives hope to a country where many do not or cannot study,” said Professor Ferrufino.

Adoption in Honduras frequently receives negative coverage, and a letter published in last week’s Honduras This Week emphasizes this. However, it is important to realize that there is a positive side frequently struggling to make its voice heard.



Workshop for English Teachers Huge Success

BY ALEJANDRA PAREDES

“Lead your students to stardom” was the main subject behind author Mario Herrera’s energetic and expressive workshop, which took place Tuesday August 25 in Hotel Clarion at 10:00 a.m.. Herrera was invited by the organizations Book Master and Pearson Education, institutions that strive to enrich education in bilingual schools by providing top quality education material.

According to Herrera, children are taken into a whole different world when they first get into school. Before enrolling in a day care center or kindergarten, kids are generally the “stars of the show” at their homes, where they are given full attention and care. Once a child enters a classroom, he becomes one of many children, and this ‘stardom’ can get dimmed by the presence of a large number of children. This change can reach a point where it can damage his or her self esteem.

Herrera then invited the teachers, who included members of bilingual schools all over Tegucigalpa, to build their (the children’s) academic and emotional self-esteem through their participation in an English course based on a constructivist approach. This requires for a teacher to approach and concentrate on each individual child rather than on the child as a part of a whole. This will allow the child to feel better about himself and prepares him better to face the world.

José Alfredo Cordon, representative of Pearson Education in Honduras, and Marcia de Suazo, from Bookmaster, told us that Herrera, of Mexican descent, is a world famous linguist and author of the Balloons series, of enormous success in schools where English is taught as a second language. After his workshop in Tegucigalpa, Herrera was on his way to conduct similar workshops in Panama, Egypt, Mexico and the United States.
 

Her career to date has been impressive. She has graduated from The Sorbonne in Paris, The American Academy of Dramatic Arts in NYC and the Piero Dusa Acting Conservatory East, where she currently works, in Los Angeles. She has acted in movies and on television, developing both as an actress and as a creative writer.

Lazarus visited Tegucigalpa a few weeks ago for a class reunion, and it is here that she discreetly shared with her friends her achievements in Hollywood. Most were not surprised. Natalia’s talent for serious drama had been obvious since a tender age.

Her performances at Santiago Toffe’s Spanish class were highly regarded by the American School of Tegucigalpa’s teachers and students, and she represented the school on international Drama Shows. Many of us remember the intensity of an oral piece she wrote and performed herself called “El Amor y el Odio”, “Love and Hate”. Other audiences in the School requested an encore; her success was so stunning. Even then it was obvious she was going to make it big as an artist one day.

If you want to read more about Natalia Lazarus’ career, click on www.pierodusa.com, where you can learn more about a Honduran who demonstrates that dreams, no matter how far-fetched, can indeed come true.

Emotional encounter as son prepares for war

Marlene and Marvin stand close to each other as he waits for his passport to be issued.

By ALEJANDRA PAREDES

When he saw her, he removed his cap and leaned forward as she placed both hands on his head in silent blessing Then they hugged, and Marlen was unable to hold back her tears. It was a reverent scene, touching in all its heart-wrenching context. For Marlen 38, is the mother of Marvin, 22, one of the soldiers soon to be traveling to Irak. Their encounter, unexpected as it was, shows us the human face of this historic event.

When we saw 150 soldiers dressed in camouflage outside the Passport Office in Tegucigalpa last Wednesday, we asked at once what was going on. It was indeed part of the Batallion Xatruch, the most famous group of soldiers in Honduras right now, soon to be going to Irak. We asked if Marvin C. was in the group. He was there, and we greeted him after months of following his story. We then drove Marlene, our housekeeper, to greet her son.

Ever since Marlene became a housekeeper in our home, we have been witnessing the process of a mother daily preparing to let go of her son to war. She visits him every other Sunday at his post in Tamara, and follows his story on the news. She does not say much, but we can tell she is suffering, as the media hype exposes the potential dangers of the mission. Her son is of huge support to her, for she is a hard working woman who like thousands in this country, has been abandoned by the father of six of her children to take on the full load of a household. Marvin is her eldest boy, obedient and caring, hard working and disciplined. She will miss him dearly and we know it.

Marlene’s family lives around the Talanga area, on Francisco Morazan. Her family lives deep in the countryside, surviving on planting corn and beans, working very hard to put food on their plates. Forced by need, she recently left her younger children to the eldest, and came to Tegucigalpa to work as a housekeeper, earning 2500 Lemps plus room and board, roughly the same amount of money her son is going to make for going to war in the Middle East.

Marvin is well trained and smart looking. According to one of his lieutenants, he is a valuable element, a highly reliable man who possesses useful qualities as a soldier. He is a loyal teammate and they are happy to have him in their line-up. The soldiers all look forward to traveling to Irak, a trip that includes stops in Spain and Kuwait.

They feel honored to embark on a mission that ´fulfills the political will of the Honduran government´, according to one of the lieutenants, who asked for his name to be withheld. Some of them, though, feel let down by the fact they are going to be making virtually no money on this mission, money that would definitely compensate being torn from their families for at least 6 months. Families that, like Marvin’s, could use some extra money to help out in their humble homes. Yet they also feel proud to have been picked to represent their country, and they stand by their officers, ready to go.

As I see Marlene’s tearful face, I see a mother giving up her son for war, a face as old as history. I cannot help but pray for the best. That these fine men make it back home safely, that they come back to serve their country, a country that really needs them.



Street prostitution: danger with a dose of profit

Nicole (left) and Naomi wait for customers along 2nd Avenue in Comayagüela. They prefer to work in teams because it’s much safer

By LARRY SCHWARZ

TEGUCIGALPA – Not long ago there was an active red light district in Tegucigalpa located in the Belen district of Comayagüela. In 1998, Tegucigalpa’s mayor, Cesar Castellanos, decided to shut it down. Since he was tremendously popular, there was little opposition.
As an act of good faith the mayor offered to teach the displaced prostitutes a new trade or even provide them with alternative jobs. Most of them didn’t accept the offer, since their new salaries would have been substantially lower than their earnings as sex workers.

Today, a large concentration of auto parts stores dot the streets of Barrio Belen, and the prostitutes who once worked in that area have long since scattered to other parts of the city. With or without the red light district, Prostitution in Honduras remains completely legal.

“Prostitution is not a big national issue,” said David Facusse, 32, a cheerful, intelligent man who calls himself a “local cultural anthropologist.”

In Tegucigalpa, prostitutes are solicited through different means. Some local girls offer their services by advertising in the local newspapers; others work in brothels, which are not as common as they once were, but can still be found in parts of Comayagüela.
“Brothels used to be safe,” Mr. Facusse said, “but they’re not safe anymore. The quality of the girls isn’t very good either.”

Street hookers, as their name implies, stand on various corners and solicit business. One woman who called herself “Evelyn” waited for customers on a corner within shouting distance of the Hotel Maya. She agreed to be interviewed only on the condition that her photograph was not taken.

“If my family found out,” she said, “it would cause me problems.”

Speaking through Mr. Facusse, who assisted with translating, a rather nervous Evelyn, 26, described the extraordinary difficulties she’s faced while working on the streets intermittently for the last six years. Although she was flanked by two unthreatening, young taxi drivers, she insisted that she always worked alone. Three years ago, her common-law marriage ended, so the money she earns as a street prostitute helps support her three young children.

“On some days,” she said, “I don’t earn anything. Other nights, I can earn between 500 - 800 lempiras (US$28.75 - $46.00).”

When someone approaches her for sex, she negotiates the price, which is usually between 100 - 150 lempiras ($5.75 - $8.63). The location where the transaction takes place can either be a hotel, a park, an alley, or even right in the car. Since police frown upon the use of vehicles for this sort of activity, prostitutes try to avoid it whenever possible. During the negotiation, the message is clear: No glove, no love.

“I worry a lot about STD’s (Sexually Transmitted Diseases),” she said, “I always ask men beforehand to use a condom. If they don’t want to use one, I refuse service.”

The government requires her to look after her health, so Evelyn gets a general checkup at a local clinic every fifteen days. The cost: a mere four lempiras ($0.23). Every three months she gets tested for AIDS.

Beyond the health concerns, she has to contend with a considerable amount of danger while on the job. Many times she’s wound up in jail and has had numerous close calls with her life.

“Sometimes, if I don’t get in the car,” she said, “the customer hits me. I always ask for payment beforehand, but there have been times when clients pay, and when they’re finished, they pulled out a gun and ask for their money back. I always give it to them.”

The gangs tend to leave her alone, but their occasional presence can be quite menacing. During her interview, a red pickup truck filled with young thugs drove by slowly to see what was going on. Apparently, they weren’t interested enough to stop and cause trouble.
On a day-to-day basis, most men go to prostitutes looking for a routine sexual transaction, but every once in a while, the requests veer from the norm.

“Sometimes men ask to be blindfolded,” Evelyn said. “Once there was a foreign man who came to me many times over a period of several months. He always wanted to have his mouth taped shut with duct tape.”

Some people believe that prostitutes get sexual enjoyment from their work. ¨My pleasure is the money,” she said, “I am not looking for beauty. I just want the money. It’s just a job. Even if it’s a nice looking guy, there is still no pleasure.”

Before she became a street prostitute Evelyn worked at a factory as an assembly worker. With only a sixth-grade education, her hopes for getting ahead were rather dim. She decided to give prostitution a try, and a friend provided assistance and showed her where to go. Being a prostitute is much more profitable for her, but down the road she still hopes to find a different line of work. For now, though, selling sex on the streets appears to be good enough.

“I’m not ashamed of what I do,” she said. “I don’t feel bad at all.”
At the end of her interview, an aggressive, drug-crazed prostitute appeared out of nowhere. She reprimanded Evelyn and told her that she was going to be in trouble with a woman of higher authority. Talking to the press, the crazy woman said, was a very bad idea. Evelyn quickly jumped into a waiting taxi and abruptly vanished into the night.

It’s no secret that a good number of Tegucigalpa’s street prostitutes are transvestites and transsexuals. “Nicole” and “Naomi,” both 22, ply their trade along Second Avenue in Comayagüela. Although they stood on a dark, creepy corner, they could have easily been mistaken for guests waiting to appear on The Jerry Springer Show.

Nicole has been working the streets for five years; Naomi for two. Different theories have been tossed around on why transvestites are so prevalent in the industry. “Men looking for oral sex often seek a transvestite,” Mr. Facusse suggested, “because they think that guys know what guys like.” On the best day, being a transvestite prostitute is a very difficult line of work. Even so, Nicole and Naomi believe that, at the present time, the climate for them is the best it’s ever been.

They credit First Lady Aguas Ocana de Maduro, who spoke to the national police on their behalf and asked for an immediate halt to all harassment. With rumors circulating that the First Lady has left the country and may never return, prostitutes find themselves suddenly concerned for their future. In the grander scheme of things, no matter what becomes of the First Lady, it’s probably the least of their worries. “When we go out each night,” Naomi said, “We never know if we are ever going to come back. It’s just like spinning a roulette wheel.”

The tales of danger are enough to make even the toughest person cringe. Nicole and Naomi’s laundry list of past incidents is both sad and horrible. “I’ve been thrown out of moving cars,” Nicole recalled. “I was thrown off a moving motorcycle. I’ve been shot and had knives pulled on me. I’ve had the police hold me at gunpoint. I was thrown off a bridge and was bedridden for a month because I couldn’t move. I’ve also been shot in the foot.” “I was shot,” Naomi said, “and the bullet grazed my head, and came out through my ear. I didn’t even faint. It’s only through the work of God that I survived.”

Still, not everyone in the world views transvestite prostitutes as complete garbage.
“Most foreigners treat us with respect” they said. “Our experience with them has been generally good, and it’s very rare that we get mistreated by them,”

Potential customers aren’t always aware that transvestites are not women. At first glance, Naomi, in her tight, red dress could have easily been mistaken for a genuine woman with genuine women’s parts. “If anybody gets confused about what we are,” she said, “we explain.”
Both Nicole and Naomi have never had any operations to alter their appearance, but they are proud to announce that they’ve received hormone injections to increase their breast size. The cost of the treatments always comes out of their own pocket. “I was born in a woman’s body,” Nicole said. “I was born to be a woman.”

Like Evelyn, they also get checked frequently for STD’s and AIDS. Also helpful to them is an organization called Colectivo Violeta located in Barrio Guanacaste. Since 1993, they have provided support for transvestites and homosexuals – the primary goal being AIDS prevention for the gay community.

Stories have circulated about an ongoing turf war between transvestite prostitutes and their straight female counterparts. Since transvestites are physically stronger, the running theory was that they forced most of the straight women off the streets. “We have no rivalry with the other women – gay or straight!” Nicole and Naomi said firmly. “We are the sons of women, so we respect women. It’s absolute bullsh** that transvestites have kicked out female prostitutes.”

Nicole and Naomi have no boss, never carry weapons, and always work together for the purpose of safety but often get separated when a paying customer arrives. They generally work from about 8:00pm until dawn. “We work every day except Sunday,” they said, “out of respect for God.”

Demand for their services is rather high, and there is no doubt that there’s money to be made on the gritty streets of Comayagüela. “Most transvestites charge 200 lempiras ($11.56) for oral sex and 300 ($17.34) for sex with penetration,” they said. “We charge 200 lempiras for sex of any type, and on a good night, we can earn up to 1,600 lempiras ($92.47).

That’s not a bad chunk of change considering they only pay between 70 – 100 lempiras ($4.05 - $5.78) per night for the hotel rooms where they live. Nicole’s income is used to provide support for her adopted five-year-old child and her family in Olancho. Naomi gives a portion of her income to her family in the city.

The idea that prostitutes are poorly educated people is a myth as well. Although Nicole has only finished the eighth grade, she has been to nursing school. Naomi finished high school, and has a great deal of knowledge about computers.

Whatever your opinion is about prostitutes, a conversation with one is truly a sobering experience. After the interviews, Mr. Facusse was clearly moved by the honesty of the discussion. “I think they are very courageous, he said.”

 

Converging on Copan Ruins, the Conference on Honduras 2003

By MARCO CACERES

Ever since the spring of 2000 when projecthonduras.com began planning the initial Conference on Honduras in Washington, DC, I’ve consistently been asked about the purpose of the event. People have been interested in getting a final report of the conclusions or recommendations of each conference.

There have also been those who wonder why it is that we only focus on the themes of education,  healthcare, and community building, and do not discuss issues such as corruption, job creation,  and land reform. Finally, many cannot understand why it is that we refuse to criticize public  institutions, either for what they are doing or what they are not doing.

As the fourth annual Conference on Honduras (October 24-26) approaches, I have started to hear the same questions, requests, and concerns. Given that the event will be staged for the first time in Honduras, I think it’s more important than ever to engage the public in a dialogue about the goal of the Conference on Honduras series. Our plan is to perman