The Autobiography of "Presidente Farmer", Pepe Gomez

[Rum Baron]

The autobiography of the most beloved Presidente Gomez, as transcribed and edited by his faithful librarian, Miguel Cervantes.

I was but one of five children, born to my parents, Juan and Sarita Gomez. We children learned our letters and our farming at our parents' knees. We worked from dawn to dusk, harvesting corn while the old Presidente lived in his sumptuous palace overlooking the ocean.

As you may expect, we toiled with little hope of change for the better until rumors of the war in faraway Europe broke upon our shores. Every man who could even remotely handle a weapon rushed aboard the outbound ships for America, eager to get away from our Island. Really, who could blame them? Certainly not I, although I alone of our large family stayed behind to help my aging parents tend the farm, for we needed now to send corn at highly inflated prices to the United States, now eager for our contribution, as meager as it actually was, towards their war.

Unfortunately for Tropico, this meant that our island lost quite a few people, and those people who were left became dissatisfied with el Presidente Ramos. Yet four more years were to pass before yet another (barely legitimate) election was to be called. Oddly, our Presidente never seemed to mind that he would have an opponent. I suppose he laughed at our pitiful efforts to organize an opponent, knowing that he could always count on his troops to 'safely escort' the ballot boxes to be counted. But just because he pretended to be nice, and kind, does not mean he always was. There were always rumors that anyone who got a bit too troublesome would be taken to the docks late at night, and sent off with a leaky boat and a broken oar.

My papa and mama, they died in 1948. My brothers had all died in America's war. The election was called, and I could do as I pleased with no risk, save possibly being laughed off the island for running against el Presidente, or if I proved to be troublesome, sent off with the boat. No matter! I was able to convince old Rosita, at that time the head of the Island's Communist Party, that I should run for Presidente this time, instead of one of her usual fellows in the ranks. And why not? A farmer could do no worse.

Even so, I fully expected to get that uproarious laughter, and to be the butt of jokes for the next harvest, when I would run and gloriously fail.

And yet... miracles do happen.

For el Presidente died the same night the election ended!

As if shocked by a bolt of lightning, we rushed to the ballot boxes, and the last remaining soldier at the palace (the rest fled the island, absconding with el Presidente's access codes to his Swiss bank account!) was pressed into service to count the ballots! Naturally, I won. And honestly, too!

Humbled by the trust my fellow citizens placed in me, I installed myself in the Presidential Palace and began thinking about what to do. What could a simple farmer like me do to make our island better?

[Rum Baron]

As we began the new year of 1950, the first step was to take stock of the island. Obviously, as I was elected as a Socialist, my fellow citizens were most eager to take a bold step forward. We had three farms, as the rest died out when the war ended in 1945. We had some unexploited minerals, mostly in the form of a sizable iron deposit towards the north end of the island. I decided that since I was heartily sick and tired of growing corn, corn and more corn for the thirty or so years of my life I had lived on this island, that since Papaya was reported to grow well at the bases of hills, to convert the northern farm to a Papaya grove.

I decided that since farming was my best skill, that we should grow coffee. But where to put all the coffee farms? That would have to wait. Meantime, the Communists were very concerned about equal wages, and I decided they had a point. All the farmers were given a raise to 6 pesos a month, while my palace guards (and indeed anyone with a high school education) were given 9 a month. Should anybody on our island be so fortunate as to have had college (!) they would get the most princely sum of 12 pesos a month!

The Communists were also very eager to tell me I ought to promote relations with Russia, as I could cut the cost of building better housing. Since I had lived in either the farmhouse or a shack all my life, I agreed. I ordered that a Foreign Ministry be built, which would carefully ensure we remained neutral to both countries. I did not, as you may expect, fully trust the Communists when they claimed the Soviet Union had only our island's best interests. If that was so, where were they when we could have used a better Presidente than old Ramos who treated us like amusing pets?

Also, as I wished to ensure I had sufficient construction workers, I ordered that another construction office be built.

We got some foreign aid from both the US and USA as I had my capable assistants look over the ledgers, and with those funds I immediately asked our Foreign Ministry to pay the Russians two thousand pesos for their special blueprints in order to subsidize apartments and tenements. I also ordered an immigration office to be built. Aside from that, little was done in 1951.

In 1952, I was pleased to see that we exported more corn, and a tenement was constructed and completed. To hear my fellow farmers and workers cheer, you would have thought I was their Saviour!

In 1953, the Capitalists informed me of a use for a bank. Now, banks are, I admit, still a mystery to me somewhat as we never had more than a few pesos to live on most of my life, but they said the marvel of these banks was that with the already very low price of housing, I could cause it to be even lower! Of course, it cost eight thousand pesos to build a bank! It very nearly bankrupted our struggling island. However, the good news came over the radio that the United States desired iron for another war of theirs, and they announced a 10% increase in the price they would pay! An excellent bit of luck for my plans for that iron mine.

Unfortunately, not all was well in 1954, as my soldier left the palace! Also, nobody would staff my immigration office! Grudgingly, I ordered the payment of 500 pesos to hire one from overseas. However, the good news was that we had enough money in the island's treasury to safely order the construction of the iron mine and an extra Teamster's office to go with it. I'd certainly seen enough of those men moving corn to the dock to know their importance. It would be a nice change for them to start hauling iron!

By 1955, the iron mine was complete, and we had it operating in no tme. Also, we began exporting papaya for the first time, and I began getting the smell of coffee in my nostrils. The bank was finished, and a banker moved in and began dispensing his advice to everyone to begin saving their money.

1956 - a banner year! My fellow citizens (and immigrants) demanded that I call an election, so as to decide for themselves if my decisions were good or bad. Happily, I obliged, knowing that at least I enjoyed living in the Presidente's mansion for six years. Unfortunately, although the second Teamster office opened and began helping the miners move the iron, the strongly religious members of the island began demanding a church. Old Presidente Ramos had never cared much for churches, but it seems his death has wrought more changes than we thought!

The challenger against me was Susana Fuentes, one of the Capitalists. It seems that their faction was not happy about the lack of immediate industry. Honestly! A man has to crawl before he can walk, and our island has to grow more than enough food and mine enough iron before we can be confident about manufacturing and industry.

Luckily, the church was swiftly constructed, and I hired a priest. I also transferred some staff to ensure both the Immigration office and the Foreign Ministry were effective.

I won the election in 1957, 34-11. I also ordered a second tenement built.

[Rum Baron]

Alas! It appears that my film developer neglected to provide the proper pictures for the bookplates! Another picture of the beautiful island follows.

[Rum Baron]

In 1958, I embarked on my coffee program, expanding farming by adding an extra corn farm, papaya grove and three coffee plantations. Also, under pressure from the Communist faction, I decided to raise wages all around, to 7 pesos a month for the farmers, 10 pesos a month for those fortunates with a high school diploma, and thirteen a month for my banker.

By 1959, my fellow citizens were clamoring for entertainment! I decided a pub would not be a bad idea, especially as I could already taste a cold beer just thinking about it! Also, my foreign ministry advised that it would be a good idea to buy the blueprints for electrical plants from the USA, so as to keep the lights on in Tropico around the clock.

The demands on the treasury continued, as the Intellectuals (or eggheads as I and my advisors have sometimes slipped and said instead) wished for a high school. I initiated construction of the high school, and rounded out the year with a night at Tropico's new pub.

1960 saw the first-ever export of iron! The island is now exporting iron, papaya and corn. It has a fisherman's wharf to catch some fish from the sea and feed my fellow citizens a much less boring sort of food than corn, day after day. Things are looking well!

[Privateer0]

Good going, Presidente. I wonder what will happen next.

[Coconut Kid]

Rum Baron has not been here since 12/7. Perhaps he is taking the holidays off.

Or perhaps we need to organize a cheering section to encourage him to continue.

 

[Rum Baron]

It... has been a while.

To go OOC, I kind of fell out of playing Tropico, but now that I've found my old CDs i'm ready to get back into it