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Getting to Know the Migrants
During my time in Tecún Umán, I got to know some of the migrants as we worked together doing the daily tasks at the shelter. In addition, I interviewed migrants and consulted other workers at Casa del Migrante to try and better understand the motives, hopes, and fears that migrants have when they leave their home country.
The following vignettes are excerpts from the journal I kept over the summer. Some are interviews with migrants, others with volunteers, and still others were just informal conversations that struck me.
July 17, 2011
Several migrants came after dinner and I served them. Later, I listen in on one of their interviews. The man was from Nicaragua and explained that he was going north "por la pobreza, por trabajo" (because of the poverty, for work). He started talking about the price of tortilla in Nicaragua, butI couldn't understand everything that he was explaining, as he was mumbling. He said that if you go to Nicaragua with U.S. dollars, you can buy a house. The value of the dollar in Nicaragua is much greater than their currency. Thus, the remittances that he could send home would be worth quite a bit to his family.
Several migrants came after dinner and I served them. Later, I listen in on one of their interviews. The man was from Nicaragua and explained that he was going north "por la pobreza, por trabajo" (because of the poverty, for work). He started talking about the price of tortilla in Nicaragua, butI couldn't understand everything that he was explaining, as he was mumbling. He said that if you go to Nicaragua with U.S. dollars, you can buy a house. The value of the dollar in Nicaragua is much greater than their currency. Thus, the remittances that he could send home would be worth quite a bit to his family.
July 22, 2011
The other day I interviewed 3 migrants in the afternoon. It was fairly informal, as I asked them all the questions in front of everyone. I used the same basic structure, but as I talked to each person, different questions would pop into my head that made each interview a bit different. Some things they had in common were that they did not want their families to join them. They also seemed to be convinced that the train was the best way to go since La Migra (Migration Police) was constantly stopping buses, demanding money from migrants or deporting them. Even though there are robbers and the concern of Los Zeta, a violent group linked to the drug cartel, on the train, they seemed to think that its speed makes it worthwhile.
Yesterday, while I began folding laurndry at the start of my afternoon shift, one of the migrants joined in to help. His name was Marlot. He is 19 years old, from El Salvador, and wants to go to the U.S. to study and work. He said that he had been educated in Guatemala, but didn't know English. He has no family or friends in the US. and didn't really have a set destination. It pains me to think of how ill-prepared he is. If he doesn't know English, I don't know where he's ging to go to School. And he has no contacts to help him out. He's so nice and helpful that I want things to work out for him, but I just don't know how he's going to get by. Erika said that she's seen him at the Casa before, which means that he has probably been deported from Mexico.
The other day I interviewed 3 migrants in the afternoon. It was fairly informal, as I asked them all the questions in front of everyone. I used the same basic structure, but as I talked to each person, different questions would pop into my head that made each interview a bit different. Some things they had in common were that they did not want their families to join them. They also seemed to be convinced that the train was the best way to go since La Migra (Migration Police) was constantly stopping buses, demanding money from migrants or deporting them. Even though there are robbers and the concern of Los Zeta, a violent group linked to the drug cartel, on the train, they seemed to think that its speed makes it worthwhile.
Yesterday, while I began folding laurndry at the start of my afternoon shift, one of the migrants joined in to help. His name was Marlot. He is 19 years old, from El Salvador, and wants to go to the U.S. to study and work. He said that he had been educated in Guatemala, but didn't know English. He has no family or friends in the US. and didn't really have a set destination. It pains me to think of how ill-prepared he is. If he doesn't know English, I don't know where he's ging to go to School. And he has no contacts to help him out. He's so nice and helpful that I want things to work out for him, but I just don't know how he's going to get by. Erika said that she's seen him at the Casa before, which means that he has probably been deported from Mexico.
July 23, 2011
I talked informally with a couple of different migrants today while handing out clothes. One had lived in San Francisco and commuted to San Jose to work construction and roofing. He then moved to Omaha and worked in a Chinese retaurant. He was a rather large fellow, so I was able to give him and extra large playera (t-shirt). The migrants always want t-shirts and we rarely have any to give them because they are in such high demand.
Another migrant that I talked with explained that he had been living in New Jersey working as a dishwasher. He liked New Jersey because he had a lot of money there that he would send bck to Guatemala to provide for his children. His kids lived with his grandmother because his parents and his wife were "killed." It was unclear as to whether they were actually killed, as in murdered, perhaps during the Civil War, or if he meand that they had died (he was speaking to me in English). His wife had been dead for the past 10 years and he had 3 kids, the oldest of whom is a 15 year old girl.
I talked informally with a couple of different migrants today while handing out clothes. One had lived in San Francisco and commuted to San Jose to work construction and roofing. He then moved to Omaha and worked in a Chinese retaurant. He was a rather large fellow, so I was able to give him and extra large playera (t-shirt). The migrants always want t-shirts and we rarely have any to give them because they are in such high demand.
Another migrant that I talked with explained that he had been living in New Jersey working as a dishwasher. He liked New Jersey because he had a lot of money there that he would send bck to Guatemala to provide for his children. His kids lived with his grandmother because his parents and his wife were "killed." It was unclear as to whether they were actually killed, as in murdered, perhaps during the Civil War, or if he meand that they had died (he was speaking to me in English). His wife had been dead for the past 10 years and he had 3 kids, the oldest of whom is a 15 year old girl.
More than 5000 migrants have died! Does anyone care?
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Angel's Story
Angel, the only year-long volunteer at the Casa, one day told me the story of his brother's journey to America as a migrant. He explained that part of the reason that he was working there and planning to dedicate his life to serving migrants by becoming a Scalabrini priest was to be able to help people like his brother.
Angel's brother suffered at times on his journey. One time, he was riding the train when La Migra showed up. Everyone was jumping off. As his brother hopped off, his backpack got caught on some part of the train, ripping. With the backpack stuck, he landed just out of reach of the train as it sped by. His knee collided with a rock and was badly wounded. He hobbled his way through town and was eventually helped by a secret medical clinic run by a church. As his leg healed, he was forced to stay in the room of the house, as the streets were constantly patroled by La Migra.
When his leg healed, he attempted several times to swim acrs a river to get to the U.S. His first two attempts failed and he was sent back across. The third time, he was able to run away, but then he faced the reality of being in a foreign country with no money, no clothes, and nowhere to go. He called a cousin that was already in the U.S. who lent him $2000 to get to Houston. He began the search for labor on the street corner. Some days he found work, some days he didn't. Every once in awhile he would get lucky and get a week-long job. The work usually involved things like repairing roofs, some of which had dangerous chemical substances. One of his fingers was badly burned, and Angel recalled seeing a migrant pass through with the flesh from his arm burned from this sort of substance.
I asked Angel if his brother sent remittances home, and he said only a little money was received. In addition to having to pay back his cousin, his brother got caught up in spending the money he had. Angel explained that most migrants aren't used to having money and when they finally have it, they don't know how to save it. He said that his father used to give them money for the week on Sundays. Each week, the entire amount was spent. These were the kind of money-managing skills his brother was raised with; thus, he often spent his earnings as he made them. When he was finally deported from the U.S. two and a half years later, he returned home with nothing. Angel said he plans to try and return to the U.S. soon.
After hearing this story, I was extremely frustrated. I didn't understand how people could decide to migrate and expect to make a living in the U.S. when they are so ill-prepared. The fact that Angel's brother squandered all his earnings, essentially returned a failure, and desires to back and repeat this failure was absolutely beyond me, especially since he was nearly killed by the train. Even thinking about it now, I'm still kind of confused and frustrated by it. However, it makes me realize just how important places like Casa del Migrante are for educating and caring for people whose journey has left them with nothing. It also makes me realize how judgmental I have been. I might not understand how migrants can leave without being properly prepared, but I also don't really know their backgrounds enough to understand what they're going though. And regardless of their reasons, the people who come to the casa need the services that it provides.
Angel's brother suffered at times on his journey. One time, he was riding the train when La Migra showed up. Everyone was jumping off. As his brother hopped off, his backpack got caught on some part of the train, ripping. With the backpack stuck, he landed just out of reach of the train as it sped by. His knee collided with a rock and was badly wounded. He hobbled his way through town and was eventually helped by a secret medical clinic run by a church. As his leg healed, he was forced to stay in the room of the house, as the streets were constantly patroled by La Migra.
When his leg healed, he attempted several times to swim acrs a river to get to the U.S. His first two attempts failed and he was sent back across. The third time, he was able to run away, but then he faced the reality of being in a foreign country with no money, no clothes, and nowhere to go. He called a cousin that was already in the U.S. who lent him $2000 to get to Houston. He began the search for labor on the street corner. Some days he found work, some days he didn't. Every once in awhile he would get lucky and get a week-long job. The work usually involved things like repairing roofs, some of which had dangerous chemical substances. One of his fingers was badly burned, and Angel recalled seeing a migrant pass through with the flesh from his arm burned from this sort of substance.
I asked Angel if his brother sent remittances home, and he said only a little money was received. In addition to having to pay back his cousin, his brother got caught up in spending the money he had. Angel explained that most migrants aren't used to having money and when they finally have it, they don't know how to save it. He said that his father used to give them money for the week on Sundays. Each week, the entire amount was spent. These were the kind of money-managing skills his brother was raised with; thus, he often spent his earnings as he made them. When he was finally deported from the U.S. two and a half years later, he returned home with nothing. Angel said he plans to try and return to the U.S. soon.
After hearing this story, I was extremely frustrated. I didn't understand how people could decide to migrate and expect to make a living in the U.S. when they are so ill-prepared. The fact that Angel's brother squandered all his earnings, essentially returned a failure, and desires to back and repeat this failure was absolutely beyond me, especially since he was nearly killed by the train. Even thinking about it now, I'm still kind of confused and frustrated by it. However, it makes me realize just how important places like Casa del Migrante are for educating and caring for people whose journey has left them with nothing. It also makes me realize how judgmental I have been. I might not understand how migrants can leave without being properly prepared, but I also don't really know their backgrounds enough to understand what they're going though. And regardless of their reasons, the people who come to the casa need the services that it provides.