(Tucson to Nogales to Magdalena to Altar to Sasabe and back to Tucson)We drove through the U.S.-Mexico border at Nogales. I am still awed at how easy it is to cross the border into Mexico and how difficult and tedious it is to go the other direction, even as a person who holds a Passport that allows me to pass through legally. Right inside Mexico we stopped at comedor--a place run by volunteers and the Catholic church (I believe) that serves free meals twice a day to migrants (both men and women) who were recently deported. Some wonderful people dedicate their lives every day to cooking and serving food the hundreds of migrants who stop there. There is a tiny kitchen where the meals are cooked (on the menu that morning was eggs, beans, potato wedges, and tortillas) and enough seating for 90 people at a time. We helped hand out the food (which was received very gratefully), cleaned the dishes, and prepared the next meal. It felt nice to be helping people directly with such an immediate need. In the midst of all the people and commotion, I managed to have some conversations. I am so inspired by the will of these people to give up everything to try to make things better for their families.
On the way south to Altar, we stopped on the shoulder of the road to look at a few of shrines of Santa Muerte (the Saint of Death). Although clearly worshiped by some Mexicans (evidenced by the sheer number of these shrines and the upkeep and lit candles beneath them), they were not viewed so positively by some, resulting in the beheading of many of the statues/skeletons of the saint.
21 kilometers past the border anyone who is planning to stay in Mexico must get a visa. The tourist visas are free for those staying 1 week or less.
Then we continued on to the somewhat touristy town of Magdalena de Kino--named after Padre Kino, the Roman Catholic missionary who is remembered for improving the infrastructure of the area and supporting the indigenous people. His bones are in Magdalena and can be viewed by visitors. Like many towns in Mexico, a main plaza and church are the central architectural features. The grass around the plaza was so beautiful and green (and we were all excited because there isn't much grass out here in the desert) but ironically it is surrounded by knee-high fences so no one can walk on/enjoy the feel of it. Inside the church is a statue and supposedly if you can lift it you are free of sins. We had about an hour to walk around and grab lunch. Several of us enjoyed horchata--a cold, sweet, rice-based drink.
Next stop = Altar. Altar survives almost entirely by supplying migrants with supplies, services, and places to stay while in transit. This was immediately clear. There were lines of shops selling backpacks, water, gloves, hats, bandannas, shoes, electrolyte drinks, and anything else one might need for a long walk through the desert. Aside from the selling of these items, much of Altar's income comes from the dozens of casas de huespedes (guest houses) that house migrants who are passing through. Padre Prisciliano Peraza, the father of the church, showed us into several of these guest houses. Picture an average-sized bedroom entirely filled with bunkbeds--except these bunkbeds are wide, made out of metal with carpet on top, and there is about 2 feet of room between the top of one and the underside of the one above. Padre said migrants sleep next to each other like cigars in a box. The conditions are quite horrendous. We met several people who were staying in these rooms. One man said he had lived in Phoenix for the past 25 years. His whole family lives in Phoenix including his wife and 7 children. He has no family in Mexico. A couple days ago he was walking across a street in Phoenix and a policeman stopped him and asked for his papers. The next thing he knew he was being deported to Mexico. He says he has no choice--he has to try to cross because his entire life is on the other side of the border.
We then hopped back in the van and drove a few blocks to CCAMYN--a place run by volunteers that houses migrants for free for up to 3 nights. At CCAMYN, migrants are provided with bathrooms, showers, real beds, clothes, and food. Their mission is to provide a clean and safe space for migrants while maintaining their dignity by offering clean, free facilities. Since CCAMYN has no connections to coyotes or the drug mafia, there are far fewer migrants staying there (migrants are under tons of pressure as soon as they arrive in Altar to hook up with coyotes and these coyotes are networked with specific guest houses, shops, and vans that go north. It is very difficult for migrants to avoid getting caught up in this system). There were 5 individuals at CCAMYN while we were there--all from Guatemala. We had dinner with them and got the chance to hear their stories. Three men, not much older than myself, had been traveling from Guatemala for months. This was the first meal they had had in 3 days. One of them had been living in Florida with his wife who was pregnant with their child when he was deported 3 years ago. He has only met his daughter once, through Skype. There was also a brother and sister who are planning to cross tonight without a guide. We talked a lot with them and told them as much as we could about everything we thought they should know--how far away Tucson is, about desert conditions, where to go in Tucson to get food and shelter, etc. If all goes well, they should arrive in Tucson in about 8 days. My thoughts are with them.
In the morning we walked through Altar, stopping at the biggest grocery store to see the shelves stocked full of water, electrolyte drinks, and other supplies catered to travel. Berit and I hung out in the plaza and started some conversations with people. We spoke to an owner of one of the guest houses who explained that these migrants have no choice but to cross because they cannot support their families if they stay in Mexico.
From Altar we drove on one of the only roads connecting Altar to the border town of Sasabe. The dirt road slices through miles and miles of ranches and is owned by ranchers. Yet it is largely controlled by drug lords and is the main route taken by migrants to get to the border. Van drivers take out all of the seats in their vans and sometimes put 2x4 planks inside for benches. As many migrants as can fit fill the vans and they begin their 3 hour drive north on this insanely bumpy, often washed out road. Even sitting on my cushy seat, I was jerked about and had to hold on to the roof of the van so I didn't bang my head. We had to get out and check the road a few times to see if we could continue because the rains had created muddy lakes. We helped one truck get out of the mud. By the end, we were coated in dust.
We stopped in Sasabe and got out to walk along the Mexico side of the wall. The ridiculously expensive wall is completely symbolic because it doesn't stop anyone from crossing. Migrants just walk to the end of it and cross over the barbed wire fences. We spoke to some Border Patrol agents through the fence who seemed very young and not at all knowledgeable of the border.
(Berit, Mary Jeanne, and I felt weird about smiling in front of such a problematic wall; and note the layer of dust in our hair from the ride)Out of everything I felt/feel about the trip, mostly I am just numb. I don't quite know what to feel in the face of this confusing world I find myself in. At CCAMYN one man asked, "Do you know what it feels like to walk for a week?" I will never have to know. He doesn't feel he has any other option. And this is the story of millions. Should I feel helpless? Sorry? Angry? I am confused. So I am numb--not because I feel nothing, but because everything seems and feels so incomprehensible.
great narrative again jess, and i thought the pictures and map were geat too! didn'[t think you would get to this one so quickly. moust have written the night you called;got back.
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