Signs Brought to Light
My Emcadisa Story
The 2021 film “CODA” was an intriguing view into the world of a deaf family in Gloucester, MA, and the dynamics of a hearing daughter as she helps her family and their fishing business interact with the community. It was a nuanced and fascinating peak into their world and, in particular, the life of a teenager, torn between her daily duties as translator-in-chief and her innate desires to break away from those heavy responsibilities and pursue her own interests..namely, singing and boys. CODA, btw, stands for “child of deaf adults.” The movie won best picture that year.
Little did I know that just months later in Nov 2021 I would be immersed in my own deaf story in San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. One that is still going strong. I had just left my career in tech and was actively working on Sonrisas Felices, my philanthropic project - you can read about that here. My partner in the education aspect of Sonrisas is Katie, who runs the non-profit in San Juan that offers university scholarships to low income Nicaraguans. I sponsor three girls from that program under the Sonrisas auspices, so Katie and I became close colleagues and friends. She is a wonderful person, doing all sorts of great projects that benefit so many in San Juan.
Katie approached me in October 2021 to see if I wanted in on a new venture that she was cooking up with her partner and former employee Javier. Javier owned land outside of San Juan that contained the physical bones of a cafe that he was working to open but got squashed by the turmoil of 2018. Javier and his wife also owned a vivero (plant nursery) across the street that had an operational history yet had gone into neglect. Thus, Javier was very keen on finding partners to revive these assets.
Being people of generous heart and intent, they came up with the idea of creating a small, for-profit business with a social mission: to employ differently-abled people. It would have two parts; a restaurant and the nursery.
But what did that mean? Wondrous, untamed debates ensued. People with disabilities, of course, but whom and from where and how to find them and train them? It’s not like Nicaragua has municipal level data on these types of groups. This idea at times felt anchored by complexity in those early days.
As is often the case, the universe delivered an answer. A deaf student from Katie’s non-profit had just graduated university and was having difficulty finding work. Through him, we discovered that there’s a sizable community of deaf Nicaraguans in the shadows of the local economy. We put the word out, arranged focus groups and indeed several young deaf adults and their families showed up, eager to share their stories and struggles. I wasn’t there but heard it was an electrifying session.
Emcadisa was born. We incorporated in Nicaragua, a horrendously laborious process, under the name Empoderar Capacidades Diferentes SA (LLC equivalent) - “Empowering Differently-Abled”, in english. Emcadisa.
We had just 6 weeks to open this restaurant and take advantage of the busier dry season. We were fortunate to have a young man named Carlos who was fluent in Nicaraguan Sign Language, thus was integral in our training efforts. Our chef Edwin, a hearing person, learned dozens of signs related to the kitchen in just two weeks, as he was training two deaf cooks that had no experience. It was a frenzied flurry of activity.
Wrangling $25k of funds from an initial group of investors.
Setting up the restaurant with new equipment and supplies.
Hiring the staff and establishing a very difficult and expedited training regimen. Restocking the nursery with an army of new plants, rebuilding infrastructure, and creating our business processes.
Meeting with the parents regularly to check in.
It truly was madness in the most sublime sense.
We opened January 15, 2021. The mayor showed to welcome this very different and prideful business to Cebadilla, the poorest community in San Juan del Sur, and to cut the ribbon.
And since that day I’ve been saying one thing consistently…CODA ain’t got nothing on our story.
A small business on the side of a road in Nicaragua, bringing together a group of young people who have known each other since they were school kids. I’ve seen pictures of them together, much like above, as 5 year olds in the special school in Rivas. They are a family, and they’ve been through so many trials, together. Most have never had a job. Most were at home, doing what their parents needed around the house but largely cut off from the churning wheels of interactional society. Several are functionally illiterate. One individual who works in our nursery, Deybi, did work construction in the past and was abused and put into very unsafe situations. Now, the pride that radiates from his being when he’s potting plants or building a garden for a client is extraordinary to behold. This tenacious group of people are bent on building this business, against all odds - a feeble economy, a challenging location, an oppressive political environment that hinders tourism. For me, this is by far the most fascinating and thrilling endeavor of my professional life.
Emcadisa was created to be an incubator. To employ differently-abled people who desperately need work, deaf or otherwise, hope they gain the experience and confidence to find a job themselves elsewhere, then take on the next individual to fill the spot. That’s the ultimate vision and canon of success. In two years, we have three workers that quit for other jobs, two from Nicafé (restaurant) and one from Plantafé (nursery). We’ve replaced two of them so far, both deaf since birth.
The business is hard. Really hard. And we are overstaffed, by design. I spend most of my time trying to produce more energy, more sales, more projects, and to continue feeding our capital needs. We’ve survived two years, our second anniversary celebration was just two months ago. On that day we also said a heartfelt adios to Randall, who was with us from the start. Randall began in our restaurant as a server and barista, and his shyness around clients and interest in working with his hands compelled him to switch to the nursery. He did well and learned a lot.
The mayor’s office of his hometown noticed his profile on our social media and offered him a job, as they had just opened their own nursery. Randall went for it. Now, he can walk to work instead of a difficult and costly commute. It was a courageous and uncertain shift for Randall, and we are overjoyed to watch him take wing. Here he is at our 2nd anniversary celebration, his final day:
Follow our story online, below. The twists and turns are delicious. Even better, come see it for yourself, Nicaragua earnestly awaits.
Restaurante Nicafé
https://www.facebook.com/RestauranteNicafe
IG: @nicafe.restaurante
Nursery Plantafé
https://www.facebook.com/ViveroPlantafe
It has been amazing and inspirational to follow your story, Jeff. And as one of your oldest friends, I can honestly say I have never seen you so energized and fulfilled. When passion and opportunity meet, the possibilities are endless and the outcome is magical!