CIUDAD VICTORIA,
Mexico Prison officials in northern Mexico say their inmates are
manufacturing furniture bound for Texas despite U.S. laws that
ban the importation of goods made with prison labor.
And they'd like to
contract with more U.S. companies to produce all kinds of goods. One
official said prison shops would even label their products to hide
their origin.
Prison officials in
Mexico's northern states are pointing to inmate workshops as a way to
stem the loss of business as foreign owned assembly plants abandon
the border zone in search of cheaper labor in Asia. Convicts already
do work for Mexican companies.
But prison labor is
strongly criticized around the globe on the grounds it undercuts
unions, steals jobs from law abiding workers and poses risks of
human rights abuses. Many countries, like the United States, bar
imports of products made by prisoners.
The prison director for
Tamaulipas state, Manuel del Riego, said Clint Hough of Austin,
Texas, is the first foreign businessman to accept the state's offer
of its inmates' services. Del Riego said Hough has been buying
furniture made by prisoners for more than a year.
Inmates at the Ciudad
Victoria prison said Hough ordered chairs for a Texas restaurant
chain as well as dining room furniture.
Hough, interviewed at the prison, would not
confirm that he takes the furniture across the border. "That I
would really rather not discuss because I'm afraid U.S. Customs would
ruin it," he said.
Wiping sweat from his
brow with a towel, Hough later denied ordering furniture from the
prison at all and said he merely teaches prisoners design and
finishing techniques.
Del Riego said 150
foreign companies many in the United States had
expressed interest in setting up production lines at the 11 prisons
in Tamaulipas.
On average, Mexican
inmates earn the minimum wage of 45 pesos a day ($4.50), half what
free workers along the border make. Companies hiring prison
labor
also save on health insurance, retirement and other benefits.
Inmates in neighboring
Nuevo Leon state now work solely for Mexican companies making such
things as T shirts and charcoal. "But we're open to foreign
companies and would be happy to have one," said Ediberto
Gutierrez, a prison administrator.
Baja California Norte
officials say they are in talks with the Tijuana trade association
that represents foreign owned assembly-for export plants,
known as maquiladoras or maquilas for short.
The border states have
plunged into recession with the exodus of maquilas, which had fueled
an economic boom in the region since the government in the 1960s
allowed mostly U.S. owned companies to take advantage of
Mexico's cheap labor.
"I
guess people
are going to have to commit a crime to get a job, because there are
hardly any jobs left in Mexico," said Raul Lescas, a researcher
at Mexico's Labor University in Mexico City.
While Mexico permits prisons to produce for
companies,
U.S. law bars the importation of convict made goods "no
matter what the circumstances," said Paula Keicer of the U.S.
Customs Service in Washington.
Keicer said officials
were not aware of prison made furniture being imported across
the Texas border. She said records of imports are confidential and
could not discuss whether Hough was bringing furniture into Texas.
Inmates at the Ciudad
Victoria prison said Hough hired them to make 60 straight back
hardwood chairs for a Corpus Christi barbecue chain and three
dining-room sets.
Covered in sawdust,
Serafin Herndndez Jr., a convicted drug smuggler who oversees the
operation, said Hough promised up to $1,000 for that order, to be
split among the 10 prisoners who built the furniture.
"He calls me each
week and asks how things are going or tells me, 'I need two more
chairs, a bedroom Set,' and we get everything ready for when his
trailer comes," said Herndndez, 32.
A dozen prisoners
wielded buzz saws, hammers and power drills in a yard surrounded by
towering rock walls topped with razor wire. Heavily armed guards
watched from a tower as the burly men transformed mesquite and pine
into rocking chairs, dining-room tables and benches.
Ovidio Silva, 38, who
was convicted of killing a man while running drugs, said he earns $20
a week, most of which he sends to his family. "This really
changed me," said Silva, whose biceps are covered with tattoos
of bikini clad women.
"People tell me I
even walk differently now like an educated man."
Silva said he wants to
open a furniture business when he finishes his 11 year sentence
this month.