The Lamentable Lapses of our Local Labor Laws
My hand trembles, as I sit here with certain foreboding; intending to relate my outrageous, ongoing and seemingly never-ending challenges with a simple matter at our illustrious labor office. The repercussions of this public airing of my quandary may yet prove to be my undoing, and I’m sure it will follow me with resolve for many days, months, (years? Egad!) to come. Yet, I feel I have no other alternative than to display and hope for (dare I dream?) an evaluation of the frustratingly sluggish and appallingly inadequate efforts of aforementioned organization. I hesitate in using the proper noun as I wouldn’t want to recklessly waken the giant from his cavalier slumber.
I had hoped to be brief and to the point, but alas! My tale is no tea time anecdote, so sit back, get comfortable, and … welcome to my world!
The Lamentable Lapses of our Local Labor Laws
My ex-husband and I have a small, yet thriving business. A two man operation, if you will. I run the office, he runs the sales. Now, having decided to take the plunge and expand our little “Mom and Pop” operation, we searched and found what we believed to be a unique product that we could offer to St. Maarten, and eventually the Caribbean at large at a quite attractive price. We searched and searched, but could find no local talent that would be able to provide the services that we required. So, off we went abroad to find such just an artist to fulfill our ambitious and hopefully lucrative dreams for out modest operation searching far and wide for a considerable time, when we thankfully stumbled upon two artisans who were ideally suited to our requirements. Our needs were simple: we needed workers who were willing to relocate for a contracted period in which they would provide knowledge of the craft we would be introducing to the local market, and who would also be willing to teach interested locals who were keen to learn said trade. These gentlemen would work for no more than two years, and return from whence they came, leaving behind a number of talented tradesmen, who would hopefully be employed by our company.
Now, being law abiding and honest citizens, we approached the proper governmental department to query what the requisites were for employing immigrant workers. We were given a list (with the unconditional essentials neatly highlighted) and were told to fill out a job vacancy request. We graciously filled out the applications, which were to be advertised somewhere amidst the echelons of this department for a period of six weeks. After this period had passed, and no qualified laborer could be found locally, we were then to submit our request for foreign laborers. Okay, we thought, six weeks. Not too bad really. Slightly disheartening, but not an devastating setback. Forms filled out, we returned to work, marking off on our calendar the date of the expiration of this vacancy request.
Six weeks passed by with swiftness, and the day arrived for our return to finally submit the necessary paperwork which would initiate the process for work permits for our foreign workers. Up to our elbows in copies of birth certificates, marriage licenses, conduct of behavior etc etc etc. we worked our way through, all the while eyeing the light at the end of the tunnel with optimism. Our fees paid, all paperwork submitted, we were told that we were now going to have to wait for another three months to receive the decision to our petition. Oh well, we thought, in for the penny, in for the pound. So wait we did…and wait…and wait. Finally losing (just a wee bit) of our patience, we decided to check up on our petition (six months having gone by). Apprehensively, with hat in hand we once again presented ourselves to the “oh so overworked” offices, our intention merely to provide a gentle reminder of our pending request. To our absolute horror, we discovered that our request could not be found! No record of any such transaction! Luckily, having dealt with similar agencies previously, I had made countless copies of all the documentation and kept a file in a safe (non-governmental) fire proof filing cabinet, with a combination lock for extra security.
Foreseeing yet another regrettable and unnecessary delay in this “simple” process, I dejectedly returned home to retrieve my colossal file. Upon my return to the office, I was simply dumbfounded to discover that “I” was remiss in leaving the originals at the office, for they only ever kept copies, as the originals were to be presented at another office (some colored building it seems), and as I was the party at fault, I would simply have to have new original documentation sent from the worker’s originating country. I prayed for strength, I prayed for patience, and I fervently prayed that the machete would stay put under the bed! Having been taught to meekly wait and murmur not, I once again submitted the required documentation and proceeded to do just that. This time though, the originals could not be removed from my tightly clenched fist without the aid of a mighty crowbar.
Finally word came after much meek and humble waiting. Anxiously we opened the long awaited missive with high hopes and expectations, only to discover that our petition had been denied! Regrettably this rejection was most likely caused by our uninformed oversight of the inclusion of particular supplementary perquisites that lawfully count as remuneration. This being the case, the net salary fell short of the required minimum for foreign labor (note: the salary we quoted in our request was slightly above local minimum wage for a manual laborer). Once again, proverbial hat in hand, we darkened the doorway of our now almost second home, in the hopes that with the simple explanation of our lack of knowledge for appropriate diction and the compulsory inclusions of “extras” et al, we would somehow be able to penetrate the thick, dense fog that hovers in these, our civil service enterprises. Perhaps, with some stroke of hopeful (though most likely improbable) luck, some civil, solicitous Samaritan who had been on sabbatical on our previous visits would take pity on our plight, and seek to aid us in our seemingly hopeless quandary. Regrettably, similitude and the luck of the damned continued to be our devoted comrade, our unsolicited shadow. No offerings of advice, no assistance in how to proceed henceforth. At a loss of further options, we decided to seek the counsel of our elected officials at the Government Building. Luckily, the commissioner of labor had an opening just a few days later and we quickly made an appointment to have a meeting..
I’m not the kind to laud any of our elected officials, far from it! Those who know me are all too aware of my constant condemnation of the often imperceptive and usually ill advised “boo-boos” of our nominated politicians. This particular day however, proved to be an awakening and a reassessment of these, our chosen leaders. The treatment I received in the office of our commissioner of labor was above reproach. His ante-room was crowded as several people were waiting either to see the commissioner, or were communicating their varied grievances to the harried (and my heartfelt commiserations were genuine) personal aides and secretaries. No rolling of the eyes, no filing of the nails, and For Real And For True…no solitaire games on the computer desktops! I was met with genuine respect, and although the wait proved to be almost unbearable, the fact that I was not ignored by the aides of the commissioner gave me the courage to sit still and wait. Upon entry to his office, I was a little surprised. I had expected an ostentatious office, certainly a room of larger dimensions. To my (thankfully masked) surprise, what I discovered was an office with an average sized desk and two guest chairs facing the commissioner. The room was barely large enough to hold even these conventional furnishings. The only shows of pride that I could see displayed were some sculptures and paintings that gave the viewer the understanding that Mr. Laveist took his heritage seriously in that they were so prominently and proudly displayed on his walls and cabinets.
The commissioner put paid to my past comments on Governments failure in responding to the needs of the residents, and hardly had the time to bid them good-day, much less to try to solve an issue of such epic (in our minds anyway) proportions. I was pleasantly surprised, in that the Commissioner made it his central concern that fateful day, and called up the lamentable labor location previously mentioned and tried to come to some understanding of the whole affair.
It was with obvious regret that we were informed that we would have to now appeal our denied application to the Executive Council. To cut to the chase..We appealed, we won. Well, that was almost two years ago, but I’m quite pleased to say that our foreign workers have arrived on our shores, soon to commence on our new endeavor. Suffice to say that there are nightmares galore when we consider that soon the work permits will have to be renewed…..!
