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Sep 5, 2005

Hispanic Indians Face More Challenges
By CHRIS ECHEGARAY
WIMAUMA - Marginalized in their own countries, virtually invisible in this one, an indigenous population from Mexico, Guatemala and other Central American regions looks for jobs on Florida farms and construction sites.
Spanish is their second language. English is a remote third, if they ever learn it.

Their migration began in California in the 1980s, anthropologists who study them say. Now, a steady flow of mostly Oaxacans, from a state in southern Mexico, are settling in Hillsborough County. Local agencies estimate several thousand are here.

``They can't subsist off their land anymore,'' said Konane Martinez, health projects coordinator for the National Latino Research Center at California State University San Marcos. ``There's ecological disasters, erosion. More and more stay here, since the border is tight and intense. There is a whole new community of indigenous speakers facing challenges.''

Alayne Unterberger, executive director of Florida Institute of Community Studies, which helps migrants in Hillsborough County, said the indigenous Indians are trying to adjust to three cultures.

``They don't fit in with Mexicans,'' she said. ``They don't fit in with Latinos. They don't fit here. They are three times removed from where they started. We just don't know enough about them.''


Culture Clashes

This new work force's language and lifestyle are rooted in ancient civilizations. They have little frame of reference for Western medicine or U.S. amenities.

In Mexico, where Spanish is the official language, there are more than 50 Indian dialects and languages.

The lack of familiarity with their culture becomes apparent at hospitals, social service agencies and, recently, with authorities. A highly publicized ``abduction'' of a Mixtec Indian teen in April highlighted the problem.

Authorities found out the girl, about two months pregnant at the time, ran away from Bradenton with her boyfriend. Previously, they lived together at a migrant farm in Ruskin.

She had no record of her birth date or her age, although officials estimated it at 15 and not 12 as believed early on. Authorities were in a quandary: Should they file charges? How would they communicate?

In the end, the girl returned to her family in Mexico. The 25-year-old man was held at the request of the Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement for being in the country illegally.

Another example: A Mixteco-speaking mother and her feverish baby showed up at a Ruskin clinic in February. Clinic workers called Juan Ramos, who runs the Florida Institute of Community Studies' Pocos Hijos Para Darle Mas (translation: fewer children so you can give them more).

``The mother wanted to leave with the baby, but staff was trying to communicate the situation,'' Ramos said. ``I try to find one person who speaks Spanish and Mixteco so they can help. A lot of them don't have a cell phone, only a few. The trick is finding them and asking for help.''

In Ruskin, an estimated 2 percent of the migrant patients speak an Indian dialect, Hillsborough County social worker Chien Mai said.

``We try to get around translation with the help of body language, gestures, and there are some common words they pick up,'' Mai said.

Because of the communication barrier, those who share the same dialects tend to live near one another in trailer parks, or campos, in Wimauma, Ruskin and Dover, Ramos said.

Mario Torres, 22, came to the United States from Tierra Colorada, a small village in Oaxaca. He wanted to make some money and return to build a modest home there.

Torres crossed over with cousins and a couple of villagers who spoke Mixteco bajo. The seven worked agricultural, landscaping and construction jobs in Georgia until they decided to part ways. Several of Torres' cousins went north to New Jersey.

After a day of working the fields in Georgia, Torres went to buy soda and bread rolls at a grocery store. The cashier spoke Spanish. She didn't give him change from a $5 bill, and he didn't know how to ask for it.

He realized he was alone in Georgia. He learned Spanish with books, including the Bible, and by watching television.

``If you don't learn Spanish, there is no way we can get around here,'' he said in Spanish. ``Hombre, English, it's kind of hard for me right now.''


Ancient People

Mixtec and Zapotec Indians are the largest indigenous cultures of Oaxaca. Mixtecs established kingdoms in the region about 900 A.D. The Zapotecs established an empire from 1500 B.C. to 750 A.D.

Spaniards conquered Mexico and began building their own culture with some of the natives, but the Indians in remote areas remained untouched.

Not much of the modern world made it into their culture. To this day, their medicines come from plants and herbs. They live in huts without electricity and running water.

Their interaction with Spanish speakers often comes when the government displaces them for projects requiring their land.

There's no protection from other citizens, either. Spanish- dominant Mexicans sometimes work them on ranches for slave wages. Even here, the Indians are bullied by Spanish- speaking Mexicans, FICS director Unterberger said.

``We've logged a few complaints of Mexicans taking the pay of the indigenous,'' she said. ``They are at the bottom rung of the ladder there and here.''

In the United States, many see Spanish, not English, as the key to a better life.

Faustina Pablo's first language is Mam, rooted in Mayan civilization. She relies on the fourth-grade Spanish she learned in her hometown of Todos Santos, Guatemala. Pablo picked up cooking oil and rice at the Good Samaritan Mission with 7-month-old Leticia in her arms.

``I'm teaching her Spanish because there's not many people who speak Mam,'' she said. ``I picked tomatoes in Immokalee, where I have family and friends who speak Mam. But it would be very difficult if we didn't know Spanish.''

Pastor Ramiro Ros of the Beth-El Mission, which provides food, legal services and Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, estimates that one in 10 of those served speak Mam or another dialect.

``It's very interesting to see this,'' Ros said. ``Social workers are having a hard time all over. At least these people are smart enough to bring a person that can speak Spanish and their language when they come for food or go to a clinic.''