Putting Best Face Forward in a New World

During the past decade, Carlos Olamendi had more to worry about than the bulging bags under his eyes.

He was busy mapping the growth of his family’s South County chain of seven restaurants, which recently expanded to Arizona. He also battled his local school district over services for his deaf daughter, eventually helping to found and fund Orange County’s first private school for those with hearing problems.

He took red-eye flights to Mexico City in a futile attempt to persuade the government to extend the right to vote for Mexican citizens living abroad. And he launched a lobbying campaign in Washington to convince congressional leaders to grant amnesty to undocumented immigrants, like he once was.

How did Olamendi find time to swim and jog every morning, help his son with homework, and have sit-down dinners with his family?

He slept less than five hours per night, that’s how.

By the turn of the millennium, the bags under those Olamendi eyes had become baggage. He looked weary when he wasn’t, and older than he was. Not the best image for a man increasingly concerned about the image of the community he was representing. Today, Mexicans in the U.S. need young leaders with fresh ideas, argued Olamendi, now 44. Yet, he was looking aged and wasted.

So on Friday morning, Carlos Olamendi went in for an image make-over. At a San Clemente clinic, he had cosmetic surgery on his lower eyelids. Presto. In 45 minutes, he could face the world again with a look that matched his energy and commitment.

A look which also puts a better face on the immigrant community, frequently portrayed in shady stereotypes of drug users, sex symbols and low-lifes.

“It’s much better for people to see a Mexican who is healthy, robust and presentable,” Olamendi said in Spanish during a phone interview as he recuperated at his Laguna Niguel home. “Of course, the best image is the one conveyed by your knowledge, your culture and your wisdom.

“But this is a plus.”

The results were immediately apparent, report his wife and his physician.

Dr. Roger Ohanesian says he has seen more and more men--and more Latinos--coming in for cosmetic surgery during the 25 years he’s practiced in Orange County. The demand for better looks has increased as Latinos became more affluent and active in public life.

In Olamendi’s case, vanity and public service converge.

Poster Boy for Immigrant Community

A couple of years ago, he helped launch a Latino group, the Visibility Committee. Co-founder Mimi Lozano, an expert in Latino ancestral research, said the group aimed to lift the community’s positive profile by spotlighting upstanding members.

Olamendi was perfect as poster boy for the model Mexican immigrant: university-educated, world-traveled, well-spoken. As a young man in Mexico, he worked for the federal government and the United Nations, promoting the development of Indian communities and studying the impact of colonialism.

In Orange County, he was one of the first Latino members of the Lincoln Club, a conservative group of Republican business leaders. And recently, he started appearing more frequently in the local press. In particular, he made news in connection with his bilateral lobbying for immigrants through yet another new group, the International Coalition of Mexicans Abroad.

I met Olamendi for the first time Thursday, on the eve of his surgery. We talked for three hours at one of his family’s restaurants, a colorfully decorated place on Avenida Pico in San Clemente. A cell phone rested at the ready on the table.

One call came from his 9-year-old son.

“OK, Benito, I want you back at 4 o’clock because Mommy will be there,” Dad said in his accented English. “But I tell you what--I’m going to be asking you about the book you read. OK, my son? Go ahead and take one hour and play outside with your friends.”

He took another call from his wife, Lissette.

They met 11 years ago at a concert in Anaheim by salsa star Willie Colon. Olamendi was instantly smitten by the young woman from Havana, who had immigrated to the U.S. as a child. They married three months later.

Their second child, Mariacristina, was born six years ago. But their joy was tempered by the discovery that she was deaf.

Frustrated with public schools, they transferred her to Rancho Viejo School, a private Montessori program. In 1997, the Olamendis helped the owner buy a new building in Rancho Santa Margarita. It also houses the Aliso Academy, a nonprofit program attended by Mariacristina, who has since recovered hearing through surgical implants.

All immigrant parents should take part in their children’s schooling, says Olamendi, who has a law degree from Mexico City’s massive public university, the Universidad Nacional Autonoma de Mexico.

They should also vote. Buy their own homes. Get advanced degrees and better jobs. Many don’t because they are undocumented. And that’s what prevents the Mexican community from developing the strength and stature achieved by other immigrant groups, he says.

Next month, Olamendi plans to return to Washington to appear before Rep. Henry Hyde’s judiciary committee to press his case for “amnesty,” a term he dislikes because he says it improperly suggests immigrants are criminals and must be forgiven.

Olamendi gained legal residence through the nation’s previous amnesty program launched in 1986.

Olamendi was raised in Puebla, the lovely colonial city where his mother learned the art of fine Mexican cuisine under Spanish nuns. One of nine children in a middle-class family, he took the bus to California as a teenager seeking summer jobs.

He worked as dishwasher and busboy at a Capistrano Beach restaurant where his older brother, Jorge, was a waiter. By 1972, they owned the place and changed the name to Olamendi’s.

The roots of the surname are Basque. And baggy eyes run in the family.

“It’s the Olamendi stamp,” he says with a smile, pressing his fist in his palm as if to leave an indelible impression.

The Olamendis teased each other about having bags bigger than their eyes. But nobody ever considered cosmetic surgery, until his sister last year underwent blethroplasty, as the surgery is called.

“Gosh, you look good!” he said when he saw her later.

“They never talked about it in the old days,” says Olamendi, whose bags got bigger as the afternoon wore on. “In Mexico, people didn’t pay attention to those kinds of things. They just considered it a natural characteristic.

“Now, we’re in a different society and a different culture. Here, image is very important. Not just cosmetically, but physically and spiritually.”

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Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday and Saturday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or agustin.gurza@latimes.com