Venezuelan small-business owners on the rise

As turmoil grows at home, many newcomers opt to start small businesses in the service sector

As journalists working in Caracas, Venezuelans Lisbeth Canga and Humberto Tancredi steeled themselves against death threats. Tancredi in particular drew criticism for his political reporting on the airwaves.

But by the summer of 2013, the married couple had reached their limit: The private communications firm Canga worked for was bought out by the government; their neighbor's car, mistaken for Tancredi's, was shot seven times; and their 9-year-old daughter was accosted by a man at her private school as a means of intimidation.

"If it were just the two of us, we would have stayed to fight for the truth," Tancredi said earlier this month. "But when you have a child involved and her life is at risk, you have two options: throw in the towel or risk everyone's life."

Shortly after the incident with their daughter, the family packed up two suitcases, sold everything else and flew to the U.S., moving to Katy and acquiring political asylum. In April 2015, they followed in the footsteps of many fellow immigrants in the area affectionately called "Katy-zuela": They opened up their own small business, an art gallery named Latin Arte.

Members of the established Venezuelan community have noticed a recent wave coming to the area and starting up an entrepreneurial lifestyle. In 2014, more than 1,600 Venezuelans became naturalized or obtained legal permanent residency in Texas, according to figures from the Department of Homeland Security.

Leonardo Martinez is a Houston-based notary public who serves as a de facto point person for newly arrived Venezuelans looking for housing, jobs and other basics.

While they had been coming to the Houston area since the late 1990s to work in the oil and gas industry, Martinez said that over the last three years both newcomers and those who arrived within the past decade have opted to start small businesses in the service sector, running restaurants, beauty salons and other services.

"The stampede of oil workers has ended, and now you see everything," Tancredi said.

The Houston Hispanic Chamber of Commerce was unable to provide detailed figures on the number of Venezuelan small-business owners, but officials did note an upward trend beginning around 2014.

The growing local Venezuelan community is a big draw for those seeking an out from the continued political and economic turmoil in their home county.

The Pew Research Center reports that as of August, U.S. asylum applications filed by Venezuelans in the current fiscal year have jumped 168 percent compared with the same period a year earlier, making Venezuela one of the top nations of origin for asylum applications to the U.S.

When Jose Vielma left Venezuela in 2007, it was becoming a hassle to run his three restaurants and live under the constant threat of violent crime.

In 2009, Caterina Bohlmann, who was married to an American citizen, started the paperwork for her U.S. residency once her sons' private school in Venezuela closed and she saw the depletion of basic necessities. As a pharmacist, she had a hard time stocking shelves with over-the-counter drugs at a private clinic.

Bohlmann, like many who left behind family members in Venezuela, laments "the worst corruption in the history of my country."

Last year both Vielma and Bohlmann joined the local trend by starting their own ventures with early signs of success.

Vielma runs El Kourmet, a stationary food truck in Katy where he serves more than 125 burgers a day made with a special Venezuelan sauce and cheese.

Bohlmann is part of a trio of party caterers based in Katy called Party4U where she provides home-cooked Venezuelan and Italian dishes under the name of Titi's Cuisine Il Carretino dil Sapore.

Within six months of opening their art gallery, Canga and Tancredi reported they had broken even, and by January of this year the couple opened up a complimentary entertainment space next door called Studio 80.

With the goal of maintaining some tie to the country they likely will never return to, Canga sells local and imported art pieces from Latin America, Venezuela in particular.

The couple has even started their own nonprofit network, Apoyate Venezeula, to help incoming Venezuelans navigate the legal system in the U.S., especially those seeking to start businesses here.

"You have to reinvent yourself here, and that can be hard," Canga said.