The story of Elizabeth Mendoza, La Ceiba restaurant owner, reflects the perseverance of immigrant entrepreneurs building businesses and protecting workers amid immigration uncertainty.
Elizabeth Mendoza rose to prominence in June of last year when she and her employees came to the aid of Compton police officers who were providing security at a pro-immigrant demonstration in the area. First, she offered them water and food; later, she helped them when they were injured by tear gas thrown by protesters.
“It was an automatic reaction. You don’t leave people lying there when they need help,” says the owner of the restaurants and pupusería La Ceiba in Compton and Bell Gardens.
Before she knew it, television cameras were outside her business every day. She began receiving calls from abroad from people wanting to hear her story. She cried often—she couldn’t believe the attention that she and that moment had generated.
In truth, it didn’t surprise her entirely. Elizabeth has the classic immigrant story. She moved from her native El Salvador, worked two jobs every day, saved money, sacrificed, and eventually achieved her dream: building a house for her parents and becoming the owner of her own business.
Her story began years ago in the town of Candelaria de la Frontera, very close to Santa Ana in El Salvador. There she learned from a young age what it meant to work and earn a living—starting when she was five years old.
“My dad expected a son, but he got a daughter. That wasn’t an excuse though. He put me to work from the time I was little, helping with whatever I could—bringing water to the cattle, gathering them when they got lost, helping him in everything,” Mendoza says.
Her father trusted her so much that on her seventh birthday he didn’t give her a doll or toys for girls. Instead, he gave her a horse he had specially brought from Guatemala for his daughter to ride.
“The horse’s name was José Luis, but I called him Chepe Beto. He was so beautiful. He would kneel down so I could climb on like it was a saddle. He loved me as much as I loved him,” she says.
Her childhood was not filled with typical children’s games or playing with friends. Hers was about working and preparing for life.
Around that time she began attending elementary school. She wanted to study, but only after finishing her chores at home. Sometimes she made the twenty-minute trip to school in a colorful way—riding on Chepe Beto.
The house where they lived belonged to her grandparents, so she always had one thought in mind: one day she would buy a house for her parents. They were not poor; thanks to hard work they always had food and clothes.
“I’ve always worried about poverty. I always wondered how I would make a living. As I grew up I even asked myself that when I met a boy—it was like asking, ‘How would I live with this one?’” she adds.
Later she moved to Santa Ana to start high school, but studying didn’t come easily to her. Material concerns were always on her mind.
The Journey to California
An older cousin she called “aunt” returned to El Salvador. She had already been living in Los Angeles, and the opportunity presented itself. Seeing Elizabeth’s situation, she suggested that Elizabeth go back with her to the United States. She would lend her the money for the trip and receive her there. Elizabeth didn’t hesitate for a second.
“I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t overthink it—it was the opportunity I had been waiting for, so I traveled to California. At first I didn’t like it. I had left my friends in El Salvador and missed them. I told myself I’d save ten thousand dollars and buy a car, then go back so the trip wouldn’t be in vain. But it wasn’t necessary.”
As soon as she arrived, she started working in a restaurant. After problems with the owner she found another job, where she stayed for 15 years.
“I did everything. In the first days I cleared tables, washed dishes and bathrooms. It was hard, but I was very hardworking,” she says.
A friend suggested renting a small space and opening a taquería. Elizabeth was honest—she didn’t know anything about Mexican food, but she knew how to run a restaurant. In that small location La Ceiba Restaurant and Pupusería was born. With it came her new life as a business owner and entrepreneur.
“The first years were difficult. We struggled a lot to build a customer base. But God didn’t abandon us. Little by little we lifted the place up. Later another location became available and we opened La Ceiba MiniMarket. We kept growing. My friend decided it was time to separate. I gave her the choice—she stayed with the mini market and I kept the restaurant,” she recounts proudly.
But that wasn’t all. During the business transition, she was offered another restaurant in Bell Gardens. She went to see it and didn’t like it—it was 2016, and she already had a nose for business.
“I said no. The equipment was old and poorly maintained. The company that owned the building called me; they wanted me to take the location. They put an offer on the table I couldn’t refuse. That’s how La Ceiba II was born. I renovated it and made it work. I turned it into a good business,” she says.
For years she has run back and forth between Compton and Bell Gardens, always watching over her two businesses. Recently things have been harder, especially in Bell Gardens, where immigration enforcement raids have become more frequent.
“These aren’t times to get rich; they’re times to meet the demands of the business. If I can cover the salaries of my 18 workers and the operating costs of the restaurants, I feel happy. Later this will pass—it will just be another story. We have to persevere,” Elizabeth says.
The times we live in do not frighten her.
“I’m Salvadoran—I’m not made to be afraid. I’ve lived through very difficult things: violence, scarcity, everything. This won’t scare me. We have to prepare for what we face day by day and for the future. We can’t sit with our arms crossed.”
“What worries me most are my workers. They get very stressed and fear immigration raids. But the greatest gift—the thing that makes me feel wonderful—is when they call and tell me ICE is nearby and ask what time I’ll arrive. Because, they say, when I’m there with them, they feel safe and protected.”
