As Congress and the country debate the future of immigration, Peruvian-born Jose Valdivia (at right in picture) and his family are bringing new life and stability to a rundown stretch of New Haven’s Annex neighborhood — and showing how their hard work pays off for everybody.
As a law student in southern Peru, Valdivia looked around and saw his colleagues graduating without jobs. He didn’t want to leave the city of Arequipa, surrounded by snow-topped volcanoes and built out of glowing white rock. But he heard of better prospects in a far-off New England town. Now, 15 years later, with luck, patience and a boost from a local merchants association, Valdivia and his cousin Eduardo Angulo (left in the above picture; chef Raul Vazquez is in the middle) have brought a business, family, and taste of Peru to the Annex.
The chefs of Machu Picchu, on Farren Avenue across the blocked-off Ferry Street Bridge, cook up Peruvian specialties like ceviche (fish cooked in lime juice), lomo saltado (steak with fried potatoes) and paella-like mixtures of seafood and rice. The chupe de camarones mixes potent cilantro with lime and giant shrimp hidden by long noodles. Poking out of the broth: A hunk of corn.
That’s the way they make it at home, said Valdivia, who still takes his turn behind the stove when the restaurant fills up. He’s happy to cook —‚Äù that means business is hopping. But it wasn’t always that way.
It took a long time, and a lot of patience, to get the business running. First beckoned to New Haven in 1991 by an uncle offering a dishwashing job in a West Haven steakhouse, he had to climb the restaurant-business rungs. “I was working too hard —‚Äù 12 hours, 14 hours, a second job.” He started punching in at the (now closing) Stop & Shop warehouse in North Haven.
Angulo, his cousin, had run a rotisserie chicken restaurant in Arequipa. He came over two years later and took a similar path. It took years to save the money to break out on their own.
Then one of them spotted the building on Farren Avenue.
“It was completely abandoned, broken walls, totally different,” said Valdivia. But at least it looked affordable. Spotting the landlord, “I went to ask him if I could rent it.” They worked out a contract for rent. But apparently that rent wasn’t making it to the bank: The city foreclosed the property.
The plan seemed foiled. If they could raise the cash, the Peruvian pair could buy the building back. If a bank would give two immigrants with no credit histories a loan… fat chance.
“When you don’t have credit, you don’t have anything,” Valdivia said. So they turned to the Spanish American Merchant Association, a local non-profit that helps out underprivileged entrepreneurs.
“We talked to SAMA and they [brought] us our opportunity.” He took a business course and procured a $50,000 loan. The process from there still took effort —‚Äù “Too many inspectors. That’s different in my country” —‚Äù but the venture met success.With the restaurant up and running, Angulo and Valdivia built an Arequipan enclave around their corner. They flew over two dozen children, parents, cousins, uncles —‚Äù into apartments above, next to, and down the block from Machu Picchu.
Angulo said he will always miss his country, but “the economic situation was not good. There’s no work for lawyers.” An enthusiastic chef, he said he’d be content to leave his law career behind and run the business for the indefinite future. Opening the business has left him feeling “thankful for this country.” “I think everyone can do it: Who works, wins.”