The ultimate remittance

August 4, 2008 | Capital markets, Demographics, Global news, Markets

“Earth isn’t a place,” says Mayor John Amalfi, the hero of James Blish’s Blish’s multi-volume space epic Cities in Flight [One of our Ultimate Future Cities – Ed.], at the end of Earthman, Come Home.  “It’s an idea.”

 

Homeownership is an idea, too, one whose powerful lure moves money and people across vast distances.  As reported in this inspiring story from The Boston Globe on the ultimate remittance:

 

American dream goes global

 

More immigrants buying land in native countries

 

She was raised in a little wooden house with a thatched roof in the Dominican Republic, a nation she left behind 17 years ago to clean offices in Boston’s skyscrapers and dorm rooms at Harvard University.

 

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Lying between Cuba and Puerto Rico

 

We have that in common; back in 1971 and 1972, I cleaned dorms at Harvard.

 

Thayer

Corridors I have swept: Thayer Hall, Harvard Yard

 

But now Vinela Arias is preparing to return home in style. A few weeks ago, she and her boyfriend put a bid on a two-story stucco-ed colonial in an elite gated community in Santo Domingo with three bedrooms, a sundeck, and private quarters for a live-in housekeeper.

One day, Arias hopes, she will never have to lift a mop again.

 

Gated_housing_santo

Gates community, Santo Domingo

 

By moving to America, Ms. Arias dramatically boosted her earning power.  At the same time, she also dramatically boosted her cost of living, so she dramatically reduced her standard of living, including her consumption of housing.

 

For Arias and her boyfriend Ramon Quinonez , owning a home worth just over $100,000 - which will cost them roughly $1,000 a month - will mark a triumphant return to the Dominican Republic after years of sacrifice in the United States.

 

We read past a phrase like ‘years of sacrifice’ and taken it as a given, but I now realize it’s wrong.  Ms. Arias didn’t sacrifice for her own future – rather, she made a big investment. 

 

Arias, the youngest of seven children, followed five older siblings to the United States.

 

Their sacrifices meant years apart from their families.

 

Except the ones who moved to the US before her. 

 

Ms. Arias she gave up her Dominican community to move to a foreign land, but the lifestyle she led in America was probably better than the lifestyle she left behind.  In fact, we can deduce that it was, for Ms. Arias took advantage of international remittances to improve the lives of her extended family:

 

The money they sent home built their parents a new house and furnished it with comfortable chairs, a stove, and a microwave.  And the money they still send back pays for doctors’ visits as their parents age.

 

In other words, there’s no doubt that Ms. Arias’s quality of life here in Boston was not only better than what she left behind, it was so much better she could provide for her parents. 

 

As I posted in capital’s underground river, remittances are a huge source of capital flows to the developing world, including the tiny Dominican Republic:

 

Dal_fed_remittances_chart1

The Dominican Republic is the eighth largest remittance importer, at over $2 billion annually

 

As I put it a year ago:

 

Even as this debate is playing out, the other river is being actively primed by both US and Mexican capital markets, as highlighted in this Economist article:

 

ACROSS the Mexican countryside, villages are denuded of their working men but kept alive by their labour. 

 

Increasingly we see communities of separated families, where geographical bachelors have migrated to the cities and the jobs, and their spouses, parents, and children stay behind.  With capital mobile, labor too can be mobile, because it can send its capital home:

 

The northward exodus to America numbers about 500,000 people a year.

 

The Dominican’s population is 9.5 million; Mexico’s is 110 million.  The Dominican, with a population 1/10th as large as Mexico’s remits 1/5th as much.  Dominicans remit twice as much per capita – industrious people, like Ms. Arias, who is choosing to convert that accumulated equity into leisure back in the Dominican.  She is, in a word, investing for retirement, as is her partner.

 

Quinonez graduated from college in the capital of Santo Domingo then gave up a job at a TV station eight years ago to join his sister in Massachusetts and to send money home to their mother.  Now, instead of a coat and tie, he wears an apron and baseball cap to stack organic vegetables at Whole Foods.

 

Both of them said they daydream about the house at work, though it will probably be at least a decade before they can live there permanently.

 

Homeownership is a dream that changes behavior. 

 

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Delta Intur, building affordable houses

 

They are buying the home through the Dominican group Delta Intur Corp., which held its first housing fair in New England last month. Sales are jumping 8% a year, said sales executive Haydee Rodriguez.

 

“It’s the kind of house I dreamed of,” said Arias, who arranges the furniture in her new home in her mind while riding the bus from her Roxbury neighborhood to work. “It’s mine.”

 

Early_morning_bus

Commuting from apartment to dream

 

It is the American dream in reverse:

 

No, it’s the American Dream in export.  It’s the human dream.  People want to own their own homes.  You are what you live in.

 

Arias is part of a growing contingent of immigrants who are gobbling up real estate in their native countries, discouraged by high housing prices and foreclosures in the United States [Please lose the cliches — those forces work in opposite directions – Ed.] and enticed by the possibility of returning home to a better life than the one they left behind.

 

Dominican_housing_1

Typical home in the Dominican.

Note rebar from the unfinished second floor of the adjacent house

 

If you can buy it, they will build, and they will build from the same cultural and demographic heritage as their target customers:

 

Developers from countries such as El Salvador, the Dominican Republic, Mexico, and Peru are increasingly courting immigrants at housing fairs across the United States, including two events in Massachusetts in the last few weeks. Thousands of immigrants are buying homes in their native countries every year, and more private lenders and some governments are offering financing to sweeten the deal.

 

In any locale where the home is a financial asset, homeownership is a form of savings with tangible byproducts.  So anticipatory homeownership – savings in anticipation of borrowing and owning – is a form of behavioral improvement for the future.  That’s a great thing.

 

“It’s something that’s growing,” said Romi Bhatia, vice president of international operations for the Microfinance International Corporation, a company based in Washington that makes financial services available to poor people in developing countries, including a plan this month to offer mortgages to Mexican immigrants in the United States. “There’s a huge untapped market,” he said.

 

Buying houses has always been part of the immigrant experience in the United States. An estimated 5% of immigrants - tens of thousands of people nationwide - invest every year in some type of house project back home, according to a 2005 survey of eight Latin American countries by Manuel Orozco, a senior associate at the Inter-American Dialogue in Washington.

 

One in twenty of immigrants, legal and illegal, are savings for a home ‘back home.’

 

Immigrant_-savings

From the New York Times: immigrant entrepreneurs

 

But Orozco said immigrants still face barriers to buying homes. Often, they cannot qualify for mortgages [in their home countries – Ed.] because they live in the United States, so they send money to relatives who oversee construction of a home.  Even when immigrants qualify for loans, he said, interest rates are often prohibitively high.

 

Many countries have under-developed housing finance ecosystems, which in turn inhibit the expansion of their physical housing and their national infrastructure.

 

In recent years, though, more real-estate developers, private lenders, and governments are making it easier for immigrants to buy homes directly, according to government officials and the Inter-American Development Bank in Washington. The Dominican Republic’s government is allowing immigrants to apply for up to $10,000 in aid for down payments.

 

Wise government works at the frontiers of bankability and affordability.

 

In Mexico, mortgage lender Su Casita had loaned about $66 million in mortgages to 1,420 Mexican immigrants in the United States as of early last year.

 

Su Casiia does excellent work; and proof of its success is that its parent company, Caja Madrid, is buying the remainder that it does not already control.

 

El Salvador’s government started coordinating housing fairs in the United States two years ago because immigrants demanded it, officials said, to avoid getting ripped off by fraudulent contractors.  So far, the fairs have attracted more than 4,000 Salvadorans; more than a quarter said they were prospective buyers, according to the officials.

 

In Massachusetts, Salvadoran immigrants streamed into promotional events last month for the English-named Riverside Gardens, a development in the Salvadoran state of San Miguel. In restaurants in Chelsea, East Boston, and Attleboro, potential buyers watched videos and flipped through brochures, perusing properties ranging from vacant lots for $27,900 to lavish red-roofed villas for more than $200,000.

 

A well-designed development program offers a range of prices, lot sizes, house sizes, and configurations.

 

The costs can be expensive in a country where the average income per capita is less than $6,000 a year, but affordable for immigrants who earn US wages.

 

“It’s all part of the market that we’re looking for - the Salvadoran people who live in the United States,” Luis Urrutia, manager of Constructora Universal, which owns Riverside Gardens, said in an interview from El Salvador. “They should have something they can be proud of.”

 

Cuniversal_riverside2

 

The companies are trying to attract immigrants with American-style amenities, including manicured lawns, 24-hour high-tech security, and prestige: Riverside Gardens‘ home models are dubbed Princeton and Vanderbilt, and the grounds include a gym and hot tub.

 

Ronald Espinal, 25, of Attleboro, a sous-chef who works 14-hour days at an Italian restaurant, owns two empty lots in Riverside Gardens, including one he bought last month for $32,000.  Although he will soon be a US citizen, he misses El Salvador and plans to build homes on the lots. He intends to use the homes for vacations or, perhaps, retirement.

 

“I think about retiring, resting my body,” he said in a phone interview as pots and pans clanked in the background. “Here, you work all the time.”

 

Mr. Espinal is 25.

 

“That’s part of my goal, a better life for my family,” [Ms. Arial’s partner Ramon] Quinonez said. “I think about it, and it inspires me to keep fighting and working. I’ve acquired something - and I tell myself all this wasn’t in vain.” 

 

Homeownership isn’t a place, it’s an idea.

 

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“Our dream house,” by a Kibera savings cooperative

 

The American Dream, exported.

 

House_in_hands

Take one back home

 

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