This Fall, I've been given the opportunity to share a documentary on the human rights crisis for migrants in southern Mexico at a number of venues. The documentary, Assaulted Dream (Asalto al Sueño) is by German filmmaker Uli Stelzner. It portrays the daily life of the migrants, from the friends that they make to the dangers they face, through the migrants' own telling of their stories.
In September, the film was shown in its entirety at Lehigh University in Bethlehem, Pennsylvania and clips were shown as part of a more extensive discussion on the topic at the Unitarian Universalist Church of the Lehigh Valley, also in Bethlehem. This November 15th and 16th, the film was shown at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship at Stonybrook and Adelphi University in Garden City, New York. Clips were shown during 2 classroom presentations at Patchogue Medford High School. After all the presentations, viewers engaged in a brief discussion and question and answer period.
Many of the people who viewed the film stated that they were learning about the issues faced in Mexico for the first time. Others had had more personal experiences with migration (whether through friends or relatives), and expressed that the film did a good job of portraying the situation. All in all, about 165 people have attended the screenings since the "tour" began in September. I believe it is very important that people are exposed to this film and understand how the situation for migrants in Mexico factors in to general debates about immigration policy. This understanding is especially critical as we gear up for a potential reform at the federal level in the coming year.
Future prospects for showings include additional high schools and libraries in New York, as well as universities in Washington, D.C. A short sampling of clips from the film can be viewed at the following link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a3tUC6oP6Ts
Monday, November 16, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
“Illegal” in the Hospital Bed
“Illegal” in the Hospital Bed:
The Experience of Undocumented Migrants in Mexican Medical Facilities
When Cesar was finally rescued from the train tracks where he had fallen and was bleeding from an open wound on his ankle, he thought the worst was over. As a Central American migrant traveling towards the United States, he had been risking his life ever since he crossed into Mexico – hiding from “migración” agents, trying to dodge thieving and kidnapping gang members, running from aggressive local police, and traveling on top of the northbound cargo train with its menacing steel wheels. Cesar had fallen from the train when the foreman had braked suddenly (and possibly intentionally), causing Cesar to lose his balance, fall, and watch as the train’s wheel sliced off his right foot.
Unfortunately, Cesar’s problems didn’t end with the arrival of the rescue crew. In the hospital where he was taken, he was operated on by inexperienced students who weren’t able to sew up his stump at his ankle and left him with an open wound. Rather than remedy their error by correcting the problem at the ankle, the hospital staff tried to get Cesar to consent to an amputation above the knee. They threatened that his whole leg would become infected and repeatedly attempted to get him to sign off on the surgery. Cesar, however, held out because he was certain that his knee and lower leg were still in good shape. He waited for 20 days with the open wound. No one would hear him out. Finally, the hospital director found out about the situation and ordered Cesar’s doctors to put a skin graft on his wound. With the graft, Cesar was able to heal and he regained full functioning of his knee and lower leg, which he uses to maneuver a prosthetic device he obtained through charity care. Cesar was correct that it had not been necessary to amputate above the knee. In fact, if the more drastic amputation had been performed, it would have been much more difficult for Cesar to adjust to a prosthetic leg than it has been with his small prosthetic foot.
The poor quality of care, unethical manipulation of consent, and delay of necessary medical attention that Cesar experienced in this Mexican hospital exemplify what many other migrants have faced in the Mexican hospital system. Just last spring, Amnesty International put out an urgent alert detailing the discriminatory treatment Nicaraguan Yasser Vilchez Grant Domingo received during a hospital stay in southern Mexico. Not only was Yasser’s treatment delayed, but the doctor involved actually physically and verbally abused him because he was a “damn migrant.” According to migrant rights advocates, medical negligence and abuses against migrants in Mexico’s hospitals are a widespread problem. Doña Olga Sanchez Martinez, who runs the Jesus el Buen Pastor migrant shelter in Tapachula, Mexico, and helps care for injured migrants after they are discharged from hospitals, says that she has been witnessing these types of occurrences for the past 15 years.
A recent story-gathering project at the shelter sought to document some of the difficult experiences of migrants in hospitals of Mexico with more detail and precision. The migrants in the shelter told stories about getting discharged in the middle of the night, being given painful operations without anesthesia, getting operated on without their consent, and being left without nurse support and forced to change their own sheets after receiving a serious operation. Other migrants spoke about being verbally abused and told that they deserved to be in pain because they were foreigners. The stories point out that, while some of the problems experienced can be attributed to the low economic capital of the migrants (a disadvantage shared by the poor of Mexico as well) the harsh treatment migrants receive is at times motivated by anti-migrant sentiment and discrimination on the part of the health care provider.
Although these abuses continue to occur, relatively little remedial action has been taken. The lack of consequences, combined with the long history of inconsistent and/or inferior care in Mexican hospitals, suggest that there are a number of systematic issues that need to be addressed in order to combat the problem of medical negligence and abuse of migrants. Given the difficult and dangerous situation migrants already face in Mexico, there is all the more reason for medical providers to stick to their professional commitment to heal the sick and injured by providing critical and unbiased medical attention and working to preserve the human rights and dignity of the migrants that they treat.
The Experience of Undocumented Migrants in Mexican Medical Facilities
When Cesar was finally rescued from the train tracks where he had fallen and was bleeding from an open wound on his ankle, he thought the worst was over. As a Central American migrant traveling towards the United States, he had been risking his life ever since he crossed into Mexico – hiding from “migración” agents, trying to dodge thieving and kidnapping gang members, running from aggressive local police, and traveling on top of the northbound cargo train with its menacing steel wheels. Cesar had fallen from the train when the foreman had braked suddenly (and possibly intentionally), causing Cesar to lose his balance, fall, and watch as the train’s wheel sliced off his right foot.
Unfortunately, Cesar’s problems didn’t end with the arrival of the rescue crew. In the hospital where he was taken, he was operated on by inexperienced students who weren’t able to sew up his stump at his ankle and left him with an open wound. Rather than remedy their error by correcting the problem at the ankle, the hospital staff tried to get Cesar to consent to an amputation above the knee. They threatened that his whole leg would become infected and repeatedly attempted to get him to sign off on the surgery. Cesar, however, held out because he was certain that his knee and lower leg were still in good shape. He waited for 20 days with the open wound. No one would hear him out. Finally, the hospital director found out about the situation and ordered Cesar’s doctors to put a skin graft on his wound. With the graft, Cesar was able to heal and he regained full functioning of his knee and lower leg, which he uses to maneuver a prosthetic device he obtained through charity care. Cesar was correct that it had not been necessary to amputate above the knee. In fact, if the more drastic amputation had been performed, it would have been much more difficult for Cesar to adjust to a prosthetic leg than it has been with his small prosthetic foot.
The poor quality of care, unethical manipulation of consent, and delay of necessary medical attention that Cesar experienced in this Mexican hospital exemplify what many other migrants have faced in the Mexican hospital system. Just last spring, Amnesty International put out an urgent alert detailing the discriminatory treatment Nicaraguan Yasser Vilchez Grant Domingo received during a hospital stay in southern Mexico. Not only was Yasser’s treatment delayed, but the doctor involved actually physically and verbally abused him because he was a “damn migrant.” According to migrant rights advocates, medical negligence and abuses against migrants in Mexico’s hospitals are a widespread problem. Doña Olga Sanchez Martinez, who runs the Jesus el Buen Pastor migrant shelter in Tapachula, Mexico, and helps care for injured migrants after they are discharged from hospitals, says that she has been witnessing these types of occurrences for the past 15 years.
A recent story-gathering project at the shelter sought to document some of the difficult experiences of migrants in hospitals of Mexico with more detail and precision. The migrants in the shelter told stories about getting discharged in the middle of the night, being given painful operations without anesthesia, getting operated on without their consent, and being left without nurse support and forced to change their own sheets after receiving a serious operation. Other migrants spoke about being verbally abused and told that they deserved to be in pain because they were foreigners. The stories point out that, while some of the problems experienced can be attributed to the low economic capital of the migrants (a disadvantage shared by the poor of Mexico as well) the harsh treatment migrants receive is at times motivated by anti-migrant sentiment and discrimination on the part of the health care provider.
Although these abuses continue to occur, relatively little remedial action has been taken. The lack of consequences, combined with the long history of inconsistent and/or inferior care in Mexican hospitals, suggest that there are a number of systematic issues that need to be addressed in order to combat the problem of medical negligence and abuse of migrants. Given the difficult and dangerous situation migrants already face in Mexico, there is all the more reason for medical providers to stick to their professional commitment to heal the sick and injured by providing critical and unbiased medical attention and working to preserve the human rights and dignity of the migrants that they treat.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
14 Stories
Migration stories – Stations of the Cross
During Easter time in Mexico, it is common for communities and groups to put on reenactments of the Stations of the Cross. For migrant rights activists, the event has become a way to take their message to the streets and affirm the human rights of migrants. On the Wednesday before Easter, I attended one of these migrant-focused Stations of the Cross ceremony in Arriaga, Chiapas. Arriaga is a town that receives a lot of migrant traffic because it is the starting point of the cargo train that many migrants take to head northward. Migrants in transit as well as community members participated in the ceremony, which was led by Padre Heyman, the priest at the migrant shelter in Arriaga.
The event started with a mass (which I missed because my bus got me in late). Afterwards, we walked along the railroad tracks that so many migrants utilize to travel northward. We carried banners affirming the rights of migrants and the need to protect these rights. When we arrived at a “station”, we all stopped and listened to the priest and his assistants as they read a reading about the life of a selected migrant. These migrant stories highlighted the difficulties that migrants face in the journey. When the ceremony was over, we all gathered under a large tree near the railroad tracks and shared a meal together.
That same day, I headed northward towards the migrant shelter in Ixtepec, a town in Oaxaca further along the train route that also sees a lot of migrant traffic. During these visits to Ixtepec and Arriaga, I had the opportunity to talk with and hear the stories of many migrants. Some of the stories were very powerful, and I felt compelled to find a way to share their messages with others.
The linking of Stations of the Cross and migrant rights got me thinking: why not present the stories in a similar format? Here, I will present 14 stories to represent the 14 stations. Normally, I provide a little bit of contextual information when I share migrant stories, however here I will just let the stories speak for themselves.
1. Victor, a 28 years old Guatemalan. I had met him before in Albergue Belén. A big flirt. Now in Arriaga, he looks just as energetic, with smiling eyes. He tells me that, during the trip from Tapachula to Arriage, he stayed with a group of people in the house of a man nearby the Arrocera. They paid and everything, but soon after they left the house, the grandson of the man was there in the path, waiting with a shotgun. It was clearly a trap. Arriving in Arriaga, Victor and some of his traveling companions submitted the demand against the man.
2. A middle-aged Honduran man. He tells me he lived in the United States all his life, since he was 14 years old up until recently. He insisted on speaking me in English, telling me that he doesn’t like to speak Spanish because he hardly spoke Spanish when he was in the U.S.
3. A young 15-year old Honduran, with caramel colored-skin and almost blond hair. He told me it was natural. He tells me he’s been assaulted and robbed three times already during his short time traveling in Mexico. His mom lives in North Carolina and he hasn’t seen her for almost 13 years. She left when he was 2 years old. She married an American and has become a naturalized citizen. For the past 10 years, she has been fighting with the immigration system of the U.S. to get papers for her son. But they still haven’t come through. The reason he’s traveling to the U.S. illegally? “I got tired of waiting.”
4. Melvin, 18 years old from Honduras. He had been studying in Honduras and just had one year left, but he decided to migrate. He was excited by the idea of the adventure. Close to Ixtepec, he was assaulted. He now works in the shelter in Ixtepec, to help out the priest while he waits for his papers to come through.
5. A Honduran man, about 20 years old, tells me about how authorities in a detention center in the U.S. chained his ankles and wrists all together and forced him to wait, kneeling on the floor almost 48 hours. He was there until a higher commanding officer came and scolded the men who had done it to him.
6. A short Salvadoran who wants to go to the U.S. to help make a future for his mom. He can't find work in his country. It’s his first time heading north.
7. Why did you migrate? One of the migrants asked the young woman nursing her baby by the train tracks, waiting for the train to start up. Well, for the povery, she answers. Where we were living in Tecun Uman, Guatemala, we didn’t have a house. We would settle in abandoned houses and then, when someone came to kick us out, we would look for another one.
8. A migrant who looked like he could have been a Vassar student. Birkenstocks, dreadlocks, glasses… He told me he’s lived in Texas for the past three years, but he was deported about 6 months ago. Now he’s on his way “home” to Texas.
9. A middle-aged man who follows the news. He told me, Bush didn’t go to war in Iraq for the oil, it was for the power. We chatted politics.
10. A 40-something Guatemalan. Short, with curly hair. He’s traveled back and forth between Guatemala and the U.S. many times. He proudly tells me, “I’ve been in all the migrant shelters in Mexico.”
11. A young Salvadoran tells me how, just a few weeks ago, he was in Phoenix, Arizona. He had just crossed into the U.S. and was staying in a hotel. INS raided the hotel and deported him.
12. Odi, 27 year old Guatemalan woman. She was assaulted and began working in the shelter in Ixtepec. The priest there helped her get her papers. She brought her son to Mexico and was working on getting him his papers. She wanted to keep working in Mexico and build a life there for her and her son. “I don’t want to go to the U.S. anymore,” she would tell me. But then her ex-husband put out a demand that the boy be returned. When I saw her, she had just gotten back from bringing him back to Guatemala. Now, she tells me she wants to go to the U.S. Sure, it’s dangerous. But now there’s nothing to lose.
13. José, 29, Salvadoran. He tells me, “I didn’t migrate out of necessity. My parents had money. I migrated because I wanted to make a life for myself.”
14. Padre Alejandro Solalinde of the Ixtepec shelter. Has been witness to the repeated human rights violations carried out against migrants. Has made a number of public demands against the abuses. Has received a number of death threats from these same assailants and gang members. Despite all the challenges, radiates a sense of peace, compassion, and understanding. Sits at night with the migrants to watch the news.
During Easter time in Mexico, it is common for communities and groups to put on reenactments of the Stations of the Cross. For migrant rights activists, the event has become a way to take their message to the streets and affirm the human rights of migrants. On the Wednesday before Easter, I attended one of these migrant-focused Stations of the Cross ceremony in Arriaga, Chiapas. Arriaga is a town that receives a lot of migrant traffic because it is the starting point of the cargo train that many migrants take to head northward. Migrants in transit as well as community members participated in the ceremony, which was led by Padre Heyman, the priest at the migrant shelter in Arriaga.
The event started with a mass (which I missed because my bus got me in late). Afterwards, we walked along the railroad tracks that so many migrants utilize to travel northward. We carried banners affirming the rights of migrants and the need to protect these rights. When we arrived at a “station”, we all stopped and listened to the priest and his assistants as they read a reading about the life of a selected migrant. These migrant stories highlighted the difficulties that migrants face in the journey. When the ceremony was over, we all gathered under a large tree near the railroad tracks and shared a meal together.
That same day, I headed northward towards the migrant shelter in Ixtepec, a town in Oaxaca further along the train route that also sees a lot of migrant traffic. During these visits to Ixtepec and Arriaga, I had the opportunity to talk with and hear the stories of many migrants. Some of the stories were very powerful, and I felt compelled to find a way to share their messages with others.
The linking of Stations of the Cross and migrant rights got me thinking: why not present the stories in a similar format? Here, I will present 14 stories to represent the 14 stations. Normally, I provide a little bit of contextual information when I share migrant stories, however here I will just let the stories speak for themselves.
1. Victor, a 28 years old Guatemalan. I had met him before in Albergue Belén. A big flirt. Now in Arriaga, he looks just as energetic, with smiling eyes. He tells me that, during the trip from Tapachula to Arriage, he stayed with a group of people in the house of a man nearby the Arrocera. They paid and everything, but soon after they left the house, the grandson of the man was there in the path, waiting with a shotgun. It was clearly a trap. Arriving in Arriaga, Victor and some of his traveling companions submitted the demand against the man.
2. A middle-aged Honduran man. He tells me he lived in the United States all his life, since he was 14 years old up until recently. He insisted on speaking me in English, telling me that he doesn’t like to speak Spanish because he hardly spoke Spanish when he was in the U.S.
3. A young 15-year old Honduran, with caramel colored-skin and almost blond hair. He told me it was natural. He tells me he’s been assaulted and robbed three times already during his short time traveling in Mexico. His mom lives in North Carolina and he hasn’t seen her for almost 13 years. She left when he was 2 years old. She married an American and has become a naturalized citizen. For the past 10 years, she has been fighting with the immigration system of the U.S. to get papers for her son. But they still haven’t come through. The reason he’s traveling to the U.S. illegally? “I got tired of waiting.”
4. Melvin, 18 years old from Honduras. He had been studying in Honduras and just had one year left, but he decided to migrate. He was excited by the idea of the adventure. Close to Ixtepec, he was assaulted. He now works in the shelter in Ixtepec, to help out the priest while he waits for his papers to come through.
5. A Honduran man, about 20 years old, tells me about how authorities in a detention center in the U.S. chained his ankles and wrists all together and forced him to wait, kneeling on the floor almost 48 hours. He was there until a higher commanding officer came and scolded the men who had done it to him.
6. A short Salvadoran who wants to go to the U.S. to help make a future for his mom. He can't find work in his country. It’s his first time heading north.
7. Why did you migrate? One of the migrants asked the young woman nursing her baby by the train tracks, waiting for the train to start up. Well, for the povery, she answers. Where we were living in Tecun Uman, Guatemala, we didn’t have a house. We would settle in abandoned houses and then, when someone came to kick us out, we would look for another one.
8. A migrant who looked like he could have been a Vassar student. Birkenstocks, dreadlocks, glasses… He told me he’s lived in Texas for the past three years, but he was deported about 6 months ago. Now he’s on his way “home” to Texas.
9. A middle-aged man who follows the news. He told me, Bush didn’t go to war in Iraq for the oil, it was for the power. We chatted politics.
10. A 40-something Guatemalan. Short, with curly hair. He’s traveled back and forth between Guatemala and the U.S. many times. He proudly tells me, “I’ve been in all the migrant shelters in Mexico.”
11. A young Salvadoran tells me how, just a few weeks ago, he was in Phoenix, Arizona. He had just crossed into the U.S. and was staying in a hotel. INS raided the hotel and deported him.
12. Odi, 27 year old Guatemalan woman. She was assaulted and began working in the shelter in Ixtepec. The priest there helped her get her papers. She brought her son to Mexico and was working on getting him his papers. She wanted to keep working in Mexico and build a life there for her and her son. “I don’t want to go to the U.S. anymore,” she would tell me. But then her ex-husband put out a demand that the boy be returned. When I saw her, she had just gotten back from bringing him back to Guatemala. Now, she tells me she wants to go to the U.S. Sure, it’s dangerous. But now there’s nothing to lose.
13. José, 29, Salvadoran. He tells me, “I didn’t migrate out of necessity. My parents had money. I migrated because I wanted to make a life for myself.”
14. Padre Alejandro Solalinde of the Ixtepec shelter. Has been witness to the repeated human rights violations carried out against migrants. Has made a number of public demands against the abuses. Has received a number of death threats from these same assailants and gang members. Despite all the challenges, radiates a sense of peace, compassion, and understanding. Sits at night with the migrants to watch the news.
Unsung Heroine
This past Monday, Doña Olga Sanchez, the founder of the Albergue Jesús el Buen Pastor where I have been working (and a personal heroine of mine!) received the Unsung Heroes of Compassion Award from the Dalai Lama. The ceremony was held in San Francisco, CA. See the following article for more details on the event: http://www.examiner.com/x-7312-Miami-Interfaith-Spirituality-Examiner~y2009m4d26-Dalai-Lama-honors-the-2009-Unsung-Heroes-of-Compassion
Social Butterfly
On a lighter note, check out where I appeared in the local newspaper here in Tapachula. I'm with some of my French friends.
http://elorbe.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=4821&Itemid=16
http://elorbe.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=4821&Itemid=16
Friday, April 24, 2009
Memory of War: El Salvador
During my time in Guarjila (see article below), I was very impacted to hear first-hand stories about people’s experiences in the civil war of the 1980s. This war was between the popular FMLN revolutionary movement and the government-sponsored forces. I am particularly attune to the history of this war because of the key role the U.S. played in backing up the government forces against the guerilla. Beginning with the Carter Administration and continued by the Reagan and Bush administrations, the U.S. sent seven billion dollars of foreign and military aid to El Salvador in ten years. They also provided direct training to the Salvadoran military. The justification for this assistance was to detain the spread of communism. The aid was continuously provided despite the numerous reports put out by international human rights groups that the government was carrying out multiple human rights abuses and organizing death squads to carry out massacres in rural villages.
The people who now live in Guarjila are example of the rural people from all over El Salvador who had their lives completely uprooted and shaken up because of the war and the death squads. Almost everyone in the town can name at least one relative who died in the violence. They also tell the story of the massacre that occurred in the town. A group of people were invited to a “meeting” by the river. When they arrived, they realized it had been a trick. The death squad forced them to line up in a ditch in the ground and filled the ditch with dirt so that only their heads were above ground. Then the death squad cut off their heads. Although not directly involved in the guerrilla, the people were mostly likely targeted because the region was known to be an area of FMLN sympathizers.
For more information on the war in El Salvador: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvadoran_Civil_War
The people who now live in Guarjila are example of the rural people from all over El Salvador who had their lives completely uprooted and shaken up because of the war and the death squads. Almost everyone in the town can name at least one relative who died in the violence. They also tell the story of the massacre that occurred in the town. A group of people were invited to a “meeting” by the river. When they arrived, they realized it had been a trick. The death squad forced them to line up in a ditch in the ground and filled the ditch with dirt so that only their heads were above ground. Then the death squad cut off their heads. Although not directly involved in the guerrilla, the people were mostly likely targeted because the region was known to be an area of FMLN sympathizers.
For more information on the war in El Salvador: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Salvadoran_Civil_War
Guarjila: Memory, Resistance, Community
This year, I spent my birthday in Guarjila, El Salvador. I was there for a conference on Salud, Community, and Volunteerism that my supervisor at the Jesús el Buen Pastor shelter had asked me to attend as a representative of the shelter. The community left an incredible impression on me.
When I first entered Guarjila, I was immediately struck by the political slogans and murals adorning everything from lampposts to the corner store. It is an incredibly politically conscious town. And not just in the sense that everyone is involved in some type of politics. No, in Guarjila, everyone is united in a common politic. The town leaders proudly proclaim that 99% of the down is for the left-wing party Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (FMLN). Which makes for an exciting time these days in Guarjila, after the victory of the FMLN’s candidate Mauricio Funes in the recent presidential elections. Now, there is a sense of hope in the air, a sense of possibility for progressive change.
Political slogans in the center square of Guarjila
Not only is Guarjila politically conscious, it is also organized. The community is governed by its own autonomous government system that is distinct from the federal system. They have their own community workshops in carpentry, fish hatchery, and drying fruits for packaging and sale. The proceeds from these workshops go to help the community in its administration and special projects. The community runs its own autonomous health clinic and community pharmacy. They rely heavily on community health promoters to provide health education and basic services. Guarjila also has its own radio station, which spread messages about community events, health, and political solidarity.
The high level of organization of the community is evident in the story the community members tell about the time the police tried to shut down this radio station due to its political content. When the police arrived at the office of the radio, they began removing the transmission equipment. Community members observed what was going on and a call went out to the whole community. Within a half hour, a huge group of people had gathered outside of the office. Practically the entire community was present. They demanded that the police give back the equipment it had taken and that the police reimburse the community for the equipment that had been broken in the removal process. In the end, under the pressure of the whole community, the police gave in, and acceded to their demands.
Radio Sumpul
The organization and political involvement that can be seen in Guarjila is not happenstance; it is a result of the history of the community. Guarjila is a community of ex-refugees from the war in El Salvador in the 1980s. During the early years of the war, many people from the state of Chalatenango, where Guarjila is located, fled from the homes to escape the violence and death squad raids that were being carried out on FMLN sympathetic and other rural communities. They settled into refugee camps just across the international border in Mesa Grande, Honduras (about two hours away by car). There, in the refugee camps, they lived in terrible conditions. They were like prisoners, not permitted to leave the camp. They were not given adequate sanitary facilities and the people lived, according to one resident, “all piled on top of each other.” The people began to organize among themselves to make the best of the little they had and were given. With this organization, life improved somewhat.
Still, after six years or so, the people could no longer stand the life in the camps. They decided it was time to go back home. They organized amongst themselves in their section of the encampment and communicated their decision with the UN commission on refugees. The war was still raging in Chalatenango, but the people gathered up their courage and started the two-day march homeward. Out of the 11,500 people living in Mesa Grande, 1,474 left to settle in Guarjila. No one had lived on the land previously, but all of the people were from towns nearby. When they arrived, the land was ravaged by war. The people had to go around digging up landmines and there was hardly any wood to build their houses. Despite these challenges, through their organization, the people were able to ensure that resources were shared. They took the little there was and divided it up among themselves.
Mural commemorating the war in El Salvador
In 1992, the Peace Accords were signed and the people of Guarjila were able to access more resources and work on improving their situation. Little by little, conditions in the community started to improve until every family had a decent home and food on the table. Throughout this entire process, the community has remained organized and in solidarity.
Learning about the history of Guarjila and its current organization during the conference had an incredibly impression on me. I’m very interested in community organization and in my work in the past two years I have worked to “build community” in places of social isolation and discrimination. I have seen how difficult this task can be. At the same time, I have learned that when a community is truly organized and involves all its residents, real positive steps can be made that promote that well-being, health, and prosperity of the entire community. These positive results are clearly seen in Guarjila. For example, through the system of health promoters and accessible care (the medical visit costs $1), the community, despite its poverty and lack of resources, has achieved significant advances in the health status of its population. In the past six years, the community has experienced 0% infant and maternal mortality and a malnutrition level that is 1/3 that of the federal level.
Dried fruits workshop in Guarjila
Despite the positive nature of these impressions, the people of the town consistently reminded us that they are not without their challenges. The principal challenge they face is emigration of their youth. Even with the success of their community building efforts, the youth of the town (primarily the young men) don’t find many professional possibilities for themselves in Guarjila. They leave the town and migrate to the United States with the goal of finding work and earning larger amounts of money than they could earn in El Salvador. A total of 16% of the population of Guarjila is currently living in the United States. Some of the emigrants leave behind young wives and children. Some of them never return. The problem of family disintegration is very prevalent in Guarjila, the town’s health promoters tell us, and causes a wide range of problems in the health and structure of the community. On the flip side, emigration does carry with it the benefit of increased financial resources that arrive in the community. However, town leaders attest that the money earned abroad usually stays within the families and is not put towards community development activities.
The strong emigration from Guarjila can noted in the absence of youth in community spaces and leadership roles. In the carpentry workshop, for example, the head carpenter tells us that, although they started the workshop with 12 people, now they are left with only four because the rest have left for the United States. Which leaves me wondering: a few years down the road, who will continue to carry through the community organization that I find so impressive and that Guarjila’s residents have worked so hard to achieve?
Learning about this challenge, and seeing its effects, left a deep impression on me. I realized that, no matter how organized and progressive a town like Guarjila might be, its residents will never truly be able to live successfully as an integrated whole when they are enmeshed in the global capitalistic system. Even if they try to break out of that model with their community projects and workshops, it seems impossible to completely escape.
So I leave Guarjila feeling inspired, excited about the possibility of community organization, but at the same time tempered in my excitement by the realization that the world system in which we live complicates the process of autonomous community organization. The conservative politics of ARENA, the exploitation of El Salvador’s resources by multinational corporations, and the manipulation by the United States government in the country have all contributed to economic problems in the country, and lack of feasible economic opportunities for youth. The striking inequality between the economies of the United States over El Salvador has created a strong “pull-factor” towards the U.S. to find work. At the same time, cultural and economic “imperialism” (such as adoption of the dollar as El Salvador’s national currency and the imposition of hundreds of U.S.-based chains and businesses in the country), combined with the chain migration built on the legacy of war-time emigration of refugees also contribute to the emigration phenomenon.
The old currency of El Salvador, before the adoption of the US dollar
Any efforts to halt emigration from communities like Guarjila have to address the economic situation of El Salvador. They must provide real economic opportunities for youth and affirm the right of the country to manage its own economy and natural resources. I, along with the people of Guarjila, am excited about the potential this incoming FMLN government has for making positive change. Perhaps one day we will truly be able to know what the community building and organizing efforts of a town like Guarjila can achieve, when backed-up by a supportive political and economic environment.
When I first entered Guarjila, I was immediately struck by the political slogans and murals adorning everything from lampposts to the corner store. It is an incredibly politically conscious town. And not just in the sense that everyone is involved in some type of politics. No, in Guarjila, everyone is united in a common politic. The town leaders proudly proclaim that 99% of the down is for the left-wing party Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front (FMLN). Which makes for an exciting time these days in Guarjila, after the victory of the FMLN’s candidate Mauricio Funes in the recent presidential elections. Now, there is a sense of hope in the air, a sense of possibility for progressive change.
Political slogans in the center square of Guarjila
Not only is Guarjila politically conscious, it is also organized. The community is governed by its own autonomous government system that is distinct from the federal system. They have their own community workshops in carpentry, fish hatchery, and drying fruits for packaging and sale. The proceeds from these workshops go to help the community in its administration and special projects. The community runs its own autonomous health clinic and community pharmacy. They rely heavily on community health promoters to provide health education and basic services. Guarjila also has its own radio station, which spread messages about community events, health, and political solidarity.
The high level of organization of the community is evident in the story the community members tell about the time the police tried to shut down this radio station due to its political content. When the police arrived at the office of the radio, they began removing the transmission equipment. Community members observed what was going on and a call went out to the whole community. Within a half hour, a huge group of people had gathered outside of the office. Practically the entire community was present. They demanded that the police give back the equipment it had taken and that the police reimburse the community for the equipment that had been broken in the removal process. In the end, under the pressure of the whole community, the police gave in, and acceded to their demands.
Radio Sumpul
The organization and political involvement that can be seen in Guarjila is not happenstance; it is a result of the history of the community. Guarjila is a community of ex-refugees from the war in El Salvador in the 1980s. During the early years of the war, many people from the state of Chalatenango, where Guarjila is located, fled from the homes to escape the violence and death squad raids that were being carried out on FMLN sympathetic and other rural communities. They settled into refugee camps just across the international border in Mesa Grande, Honduras (about two hours away by car). There, in the refugee camps, they lived in terrible conditions. They were like prisoners, not permitted to leave the camp. They were not given adequate sanitary facilities and the people lived, according to one resident, “all piled on top of each other.” The people began to organize among themselves to make the best of the little they had and were given. With this organization, life improved somewhat.
Still, after six years or so, the people could no longer stand the life in the camps. They decided it was time to go back home. They organized amongst themselves in their section of the encampment and communicated their decision with the UN commission on refugees. The war was still raging in Chalatenango, but the people gathered up their courage and started the two-day march homeward. Out of the 11,500 people living in Mesa Grande, 1,474 left to settle in Guarjila. No one had lived on the land previously, but all of the people were from towns nearby. When they arrived, the land was ravaged by war. The people had to go around digging up landmines and there was hardly any wood to build their houses. Despite these challenges, through their organization, the people were able to ensure that resources were shared. They took the little there was and divided it up among themselves.
Mural commemorating the war in El Salvador
In 1992, the Peace Accords were signed and the people of Guarjila were able to access more resources and work on improving their situation. Little by little, conditions in the community started to improve until every family had a decent home and food on the table. Throughout this entire process, the community has remained organized and in solidarity.
Learning about the history of Guarjila and its current organization during the conference had an incredibly impression on me. I’m very interested in community organization and in my work in the past two years I have worked to “build community” in places of social isolation and discrimination. I have seen how difficult this task can be. At the same time, I have learned that when a community is truly organized and involves all its residents, real positive steps can be made that promote that well-being, health, and prosperity of the entire community. These positive results are clearly seen in Guarjila. For example, through the system of health promoters and accessible care (the medical visit costs $1), the community, despite its poverty and lack of resources, has achieved significant advances in the health status of its population. In the past six years, the community has experienced 0% infant and maternal mortality and a malnutrition level that is 1/3 that of the federal level.
Dried fruits workshop in Guarjila
Despite the positive nature of these impressions, the people of the town consistently reminded us that they are not without their challenges. The principal challenge they face is emigration of their youth. Even with the success of their community building efforts, the youth of the town (primarily the young men) don’t find many professional possibilities for themselves in Guarjila. They leave the town and migrate to the United States with the goal of finding work and earning larger amounts of money than they could earn in El Salvador. A total of 16% of the population of Guarjila is currently living in the United States. Some of the emigrants leave behind young wives and children. Some of them never return. The problem of family disintegration is very prevalent in Guarjila, the town’s health promoters tell us, and causes a wide range of problems in the health and structure of the community. On the flip side, emigration does carry with it the benefit of increased financial resources that arrive in the community. However, town leaders attest that the money earned abroad usually stays within the families and is not put towards community development activities.
The strong emigration from Guarjila can noted in the absence of youth in community spaces and leadership roles. In the carpentry workshop, for example, the head carpenter tells us that, although they started the workshop with 12 people, now they are left with only four because the rest have left for the United States. Which leaves me wondering: a few years down the road, who will continue to carry through the community organization that I find so impressive and that Guarjila’s residents have worked so hard to achieve?
Learning about this challenge, and seeing its effects, left a deep impression on me. I realized that, no matter how organized and progressive a town like Guarjila might be, its residents will never truly be able to live successfully as an integrated whole when they are enmeshed in the global capitalistic system. Even if they try to break out of that model with their community projects and workshops, it seems impossible to completely escape.
So I leave Guarjila feeling inspired, excited about the possibility of community organization, but at the same time tempered in my excitement by the realization that the world system in which we live complicates the process of autonomous community organization. The conservative politics of ARENA, the exploitation of El Salvador’s resources by multinational corporations, and the manipulation by the United States government in the country have all contributed to economic problems in the country, and lack of feasible economic opportunities for youth. The striking inequality between the economies of the United States over El Salvador has created a strong “pull-factor” towards the U.S. to find work. At the same time, cultural and economic “imperialism” (such as adoption of the dollar as El Salvador’s national currency and the imposition of hundreds of U.S.-based chains and businesses in the country), combined with the chain migration built on the legacy of war-time emigration of refugees also contribute to the emigration phenomenon.
The old currency of El Salvador, before the adoption of the US dollar
Any efforts to halt emigration from communities like Guarjila have to address the economic situation of El Salvador. They must provide real economic opportunities for youth and affirm the right of the country to manage its own economy and natural resources. I, along with the people of Guarjila, am excited about the potential this incoming FMLN government has for making positive change. Perhaps one day we will truly be able to know what the community building and organizing efforts of a town like Guarjila can achieve, when backed-up by a supportive political and economic environment.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Medical Negligence = Human Rights Violation
In my work this year, it has not been uncommon to hear stories from migrants about the medical negligence they have experienced in Mexican hospitals. The recent amputee who was not given anything to drink and forced to bathe himself, the injured man who could have had his leg repaired, but was amputated instead... the list goes on. It is generally belileved that the reason for this negligence is that a migrant doesn'tdeserve medical treatment. This belief is clearly discriminatory. And when we consider that access to health care, especially in life and death situations, is a human right, these instances of negligence are clear violations to that right.
**URGENT ACTION**
While certainly not an isolated occurrence, a recent case of Yasser, a Nicaraguan migrant who was formerly staying in one of the shelters where I work, has gotten some special media and international attention. Although supposedly in Chiapas, Mexico, migrants are able to access health services at public hospitals, Yasser was denied medical attention in one of these hospitals because of his immigration status. His wound became infected and had to be amputated. Amnesty International has put out a nice summary of the case and suggestions for an action that can be taken to help preserve Yasser's human rights and hold the doctors who denied him care responsible. Please help by writing a quick letter. Follow the link below to learn more:
http://www.amnesty.org/en/library/info/AMR41/020/2009/en
**URGENT ACTION**
While certainly not an isolated occurrence, a recent case of Yasser, a Nicaraguan migrant who was formerly staying in one of the shelters where I work, has gotten some special media and international attention. Although supposedly in Chiapas, Mexico, migrants are able to access health services at public hospitals, Yasser was denied medical attention in one of these hospitals because of his immigration status. His wound became infected and had to be amputated. Amnesty International has put out a nice summary of the case and suggestions for an action that can be taken to help preserve Yasser's human rights and hold the doctors who denied him care responsible. Please help by writing a quick letter. Follow the link below to learn more:
http://www.amnesty.org/en/library/info/AMR41/020/2009/en
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
Mujeres en el Camino video
Another video, from RuidoPhoto, a Spain-based arts/journalism collective that has done quite a bit of work covering migration in Mexico. In this video, two of my friends appear, Genoveva and Marilú.
Shelter Video
Check out this video from the Jesus el Buen Pastor migrant shelter where I have been working. The video's in Spanish, but even if you don't understand, the images tell their own story. And you get to see the place and some of the people I have been getting to know.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Stories and lessons
A piece I wrote to be read at a Sunday service at my family's congregation:
There were four main reasons I wanted to come to Chiapas, Mexico this year to work with migrants. First, I wanted to understand the motivations of people who leave their home countries and embark on the difficult journey northward. Second, I wanted to understand what it was like for them on the journey, what difficulties they face and the problems they encounter. Third, I wanted to understand how this migration was affecting the people who “are left behind” in home communities. And lastly, I wanted to develop a clearer conception of the United States’ role in the current migration situation. I am grateful for the opportunity to share some of my experience with you - my own home community.
It’s lunchtime at the Jesús el Buen Pastor Migrant Shelter in Tapachula, Mexico, where I have been volunteering for the past four months. As is typical after a hearty Mexican lunch of rice, beans, tortillas, and chili, all of us, migrants and volunteers, sit around for a while, talking and digesting. After some time, the line of conversation turns towards the abuses that Central American migrants face on their journey northward through Mexico, headed towards the U.S.
One of the migrants, a twenty-two year old from Honduras, talks about how a gang of armed assailants attacked him and his group while they were traveling through an isolated strip of mountains alongside the highway in Mexico to avoid a migration check-point. He is clearly deeply affected by his memory of the event. “They raped one of girls who was traveling with us. All of the attackers. And there was nothing we could do. They would have killed us.” He now walks with a limp from one of the blows the assailants gave him while demanding his money.
Another Honduran, Antonio, who lost his leg by falling from the cargo train that many migrants use as a cheap alternative (often their only option) for traveling northward, talks about the abuses of gangs and the police. He “fell” because he was thrown off the train by gang members who boarded the train to demand money from the migrants. Antonio gave him the very little he had left at the time but they demanded more. When he couldn’t comply, they beat him and threw him. And why did Antonio have so little money? Because two days before the police had robbed and beaten him and his group of traveling companions.
Sergio, a Salvadoran migrant in his thirties, confirms the observation that police are often involved in the attacks against migrants. In this region, he states, the federal police most frequently take advantage of migrants. He tells us about a specific case in which he witnessed a number of police officers, notably drunk, beating up a group of migrants. He was lucky enough to hide in a drainage ditch before they could get to him.
Francisca, a young woman from a small town in El Salvador, tells us about how she barely escaped alive from an attack on migrants by the state police in the highlands of Chiapas, to the east of Tapachula. She had hired a pollero or “migrant smuggler” to take her northward. She and twenty-five other migrants boarded the back of an enclosed truck and the driver started taking them north. About five hours into their trip through Mexico, they reached a highway checkpoint of the Chiapas state police. The driver, fearful of being discovered, blew through the checkpoint, and, in a clear example of “excessive use of force,” the police opened fire on the truck. Three migrants died and eight others were wounded. The other fifteen, including Francisca, were left unharmed physically, but haunted by the memory of the event.
Later on, in private, a young Honduran woman of my same age tells me about how, four years ago, she was gang raped by a group of robbers. She was “saved” by Mexican migration authorities, but then one of these same authorities kidnapped her and kept her locked in a hotel room for months, repeatedly raping her. She came out of the event emotionally scarred and with HIV.
Stories of abuse of Central American migrants in Mexico are not uncommon. That day in the shelter, every migrant present at the lunch table had a story to tell, and almost every one of those stories was a personal experience. Migrants in Mexico suffer abuses from federal, state, and local police, from immigration officials, from the military, from gangs such as the Zetas, and from local robbers and assailants. Restrictive immigration policies and ramped up enforcement on the southern border cause migrants to avoid interactions with local people and often lead them to travel in isolated places where they are more vulnerable to assault. Corruption is widespread among Mexican institutions, and officers and officials often take advantage of this vulnerable position to extract extra cash and take out their life’s frustrations on migrants. This same corruption most likely is part of the reason why there is little accountability on the part of the institutions involved and the federal government to deal with the problems. There are unspoken agreements between the police and the government to not effectively counteract their activities against migrants. And, since Central American migrants tend to be a marginalized, “forgotten” population here in Mexico, there is little citizen and political pressure to take real action.
As a United States citizen, I have been curious to learn about the U.S. role (or potential role) in this situation of human rights violations. First of all, I’ve come to see that the situation of “illegality” of these migrants that leads to their vulnerability derives from the restrictive immigration policies of the U.S. If there were more visas to work in the U.S. and the process for obtaining them were less difficult, many migrants could avoid the dangerous journey and go to the U.S. legally and safely. In addition, it seems that many of Mexico’s own restrictive policies have been influenced by diplomatic pressure from the U.S.
I was also troubled when I began to learn about details of the Merida Initiative. This 1.4 billion dollar federal funding package provides support to the Mexican government to beef up their military, police, and immigration enforcement. The primary justification for this funding is to help Mexico combat drug trafficking, however the bill has been criticized on multiple fronts for not utilizing an adequate strategy to accomplish this task. For example, the bill does not do enough to combat the corruption within the institutions it funds. Therefore, it can be assumed that increased funding will most likely increase the infamous money-driven corruption that plagues these Mexican institutions. In the case of migrants, increased funding for the police and military will most likely lead to more abuses. Increased immigration enforcement, without a concurrent plan to combat the dangers migrants face in their journey, will increase the vulnerability of migrants to these abuses.
A number of criticisms of the Merida Initiative have come out in alternative media channels, however in mainstream media the plan has received little coverage and, what has come out has focused primarily on the anti-drug aspects of the plan. The current “climate of fear” created in U.S. media around drug trafficking Mexico most likely has something to do with the general acceptance of the Mérida Initiative. People are happy to see “something significant being done” about the problem. However, it is important that we ask whether or not this “something” is the right thing.
The motivations behind and true effectiveness of the Merida Initiative need to be questioned and its repercussions need to be fully analyzed and taken into account. As I have seen here on the southern border, it’s the most vulnerable populations, like Central American migrants, that suffer the consequences of corruption in Mexico. With or without funding, reforms need to be encouraged and introduced that protect the human rights and improve the situation for these vulnerable populations.
And beyond Merida, we, as U.S. citizens, need to constantly remember that U.S. legislation, both domestic and international, has significant impacts on the lives and opportunities of people all over the world. Negative impacts of these policies most often fall on the poor and marginalized. The problem is that, because these populations often don’t have a strong voice, their opinions usually aren’t considered and their complaints aren’t heard. We must learn to ask questions about the far-reaching effects of legislation and communicate our concern about these effects with legislators. In considering the big picture, while at the same time paying attention to the stories of individuals, I believe we will best be able to work to preserve and value the inherent dignity of people world-over.
There were four main reasons I wanted to come to Chiapas, Mexico this year to work with migrants. First, I wanted to understand the motivations of people who leave their home countries and embark on the difficult journey northward. Second, I wanted to understand what it was like for them on the journey, what difficulties they face and the problems they encounter. Third, I wanted to understand how this migration was affecting the people who “are left behind” in home communities. And lastly, I wanted to develop a clearer conception of the United States’ role in the current migration situation. I am grateful for the opportunity to share some of my experience with you - my own home community.
It’s lunchtime at the Jesús el Buen Pastor Migrant Shelter in Tapachula, Mexico, where I have been volunteering for the past four months. As is typical after a hearty Mexican lunch of rice, beans, tortillas, and chili, all of us, migrants and volunteers, sit around for a while, talking and digesting. After some time, the line of conversation turns towards the abuses that Central American migrants face on their journey northward through Mexico, headed towards the U.S.
One of the migrants, a twenty-two year old from Honduras, talks about how a gang of armed assailants attacked him and his group while they were traveling through an isolated strip of mountains alongside the highway in Mexico to avoid a migration check-point. He is clearly deeply affected by his memory of the event. “They raped one of girls who was traveling with us. All of the attackers. And there was nothing we could do. They would have killed us.” He now walks with a limp from one of the blows the assailants gave him while demanding his money.
Another Honduran, Antonio, who lost his leg by falling from the cargo train that many migrants use as a cheap alternative (often their only option) for traveling northward, talks about the abuses of gangs and the police. He “fell” because he was thrown off the train by gang members who boarded the train to demand money from the migrants. Antonio gave him the very little he had left at the time but they demanded more. When he couldn’t comply, they beat him and threw him. And why did Antonio have so little money? Because two days before the police had robbed and beaten him and his group of traveling companions.
Sergio, a Salvadoran migrant in his thirties, confirms the observation that police are often involved in the attacks against migrants. In this region, he states, the federal police most frequently take advantage of migrants. He tells us about a specific case in which he witnessed a number of police officers, notably drunk, beating up a group of migrants. He was lucky enough to hide in a drainage ditch before they could get to him.
Francisca, a young woman from a small town in El Salvador, tells us about how she barely escaped alive from an attack on migrants by the state police in the highlands of Chiapas, to the east of Tapachula. She had hired a pollero or “migrant smuggler” to take her northward. She and twenty-five other migrants boarded the back of an enclosed truck and the driver started taking them north. About five hours into their trip through Mexico, they reached a highway checkpoint of the Chiapas state police. The driver, fearful of being discovered, blew through the checkpoint, and, in a clear example of “excessive use of force,” the police opened fire on the truck. Three migrants died and eight others were wounded. The other fifteen, including Francisca, were left unharmed physically, but haunted by the memory of the event.
Later on, in private, a young Honduran woman of my same age tells me about how, four years ago, she was gang raped by a group of robbers. She was “saved” by Mexican migration authorities, but then one of these same authorities kidnapped her and kept her locked in a hotel room for months, repeatedly raping her. She came out of the event emotionally scarred and with HIV.
Stories of abuse of Central American migrants in Mexico are not uncommon. That day in the shelter, every migrant present at the lunch table had a story to tell, and almost every one of those stories was a personal experience. Migrants in Mexico suffer abuses from federal, state, and local police, from immigration officials, from the military, from gangs such as the Zetas, and from local robbers and assailants. Restrictive immigration policies and ramped up enforcement on the southern border cause migrants to avoid interactions with local people and often lead them to travel in isolated places where they are more vulnerable to assault. Corruption is widespread among Mexican institutions, and officers and officials often take advantage of this vulnerable position to extract extra cash and take out their life’s frustrations on migrants. This same corruption most likely is part of the reason why there is little accountability on the part of the institutions involved and the federal government to deal with the problems. There are unspoken agreements between the police and the government to not effectively counteract their activities against migrants. And, since Central American migrants tend to be a marginalized, “forgotten” population here in Mexico, there is little citizen and political pressure to take real action.
As a United States citizen, I have been curious to learn about the U.S. role (or potential role) in this situation of human rights violations. First of all, I’ve come to see that the situation of “illegality” of these migrants that leads to their vulnerability derives from the restrictive immigration policies of the U.S. If there were more visas to work in the U.S. and the process for obtaining them were less difficult, many migrants could avoid the dangerous journey and go to the U.S. legally and safely. In addition, it seems that many of Mexico’s own restrictive policies have been influenced by diplomatic pressure from the U.S.
I was also troubled when I began to learn about details of the Merida Initiative. This 1.4 billion dollar federal funding package provides support to the Mexican government to beef up their military, police, and immigration enforcement. The primary justification for this funding is to help Mexico combat drug trafficking, however the bill has been criticized on multiple fronts for not utilizing an adequate strategy to accomplish this task. For example, the bill does not do enough to combat the corruption within the institutions it funds. Therefore, it can be assumed that increased funding will most likely increase the infamous money-driven corruption that plagues these Mexican institutions. In the case of migrants, increased funding for the police and military will most likely lead to more abuses. Increased immigration enforcement, without a concurrent plan to combat the dangers migrants face in their journey, will increase the vulnerability of migrants to these abuses.
A number of criticisms of the Merida Initiative have come out in alternative media channels, however in mainstream media the plan has received little coverage and, what has come out has focused primarily on the anti-drug aspects of the plan. The current “climate of fear” created in U.S. media around drug trafficking Mexico most likely has something to do with the general acceptance of the Mérida Initiative. People are happy to see “something significant being done” about the problem. However, it is important that we ask whether or not this “something” is the right thing.
The motivations behind and true effectiveness of the Merida Initiative need to be questioned and its repercussions need to be fully analyzed and taken into account. As I have seen here on the southern border, it’s the most vulnerable populations, like Central American migrants, that suffer the consequences of corruption in Mexico. With or without funding, reforms need to be encouraged and introduced that protect the human rights and improve the situation for these vulnerable populations.
And beyond Merida, we, as U.S. citizens, need to constantly remember that U.S. legislation, both domestic and international, has significant impacts on the lives and opportunities of people all over the world. Negative impacts of these policies most often fall on the poor and marginalized. The problem is that, because these populations often don’t have a strong voice, their opinions usually aren’t considered and their complaints aren’t heard. We must learn to ask questions about the far-reaching effects of legislation and communicate our concern about these effects with legislators. In considering the big picture, while at the same time paying attention to the stories of individuals, I believe we will best be able to work to preserve and value the inherent dignity of people world-over.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Comments on Obama's immigration position
When Obama was elected president of the U.S., many Mexicans were excited. The day after, I spoke with a Guatemalan on the border between the cities Tecun Uman and Cuidad Hidalgo. He works as a “balsero,” steering the rafts that carry people back and forth across the Suchiate River between Guatemala and Mexico, away from the official international crossing point. Because there is little immigration enforcement in the strip of land right along the border, this river is a center of informal cross-border commerce for the people who live in the border region. For Central American migrants traveling northward, it is a common illegal border crossing point. This balsero, who witnesses unregulated migration every day of his life, told me he was excited because he thought Obama would make things easier for migrants, both those in the U.S. and those who are trying to enter.
It is true that the Obama has taken an approach to the immigration issue in the U.S. that tends to focus more on the human rights of immigrants than many of the recent discussions and broad-scale actions on the issue, which tend to target immigrants as criminals. For example, the policy position on immigration listed on the administration’s website mentions the need to increase the number of visas available for legal immigrants and eliminate the back-log in applications for legal entry. The position also supports the development of a pathway to legalization for undocumented immigrants already in the country.
I believe changes such as these are definitely critical for preserving the human rights of immigrants. Increased options for legalization will decrease the vulnerability that many immigrants face because of their undocumented status.
Nevertheless, if the Obama administration wants to claim their policy is working on protecting human rights, they are sorely off-track in one of their stated opinions. The emphasize the need to secure our nation’s borders and the intention to provide for “additional personnel, infrastructure and technology on the border.” Used in this context, “securing the border” most likely refers to combating drug trafficking and obstructing illegal immigration.
In terms of immigration, this argument falls in line with the well-worn political paradigm that assumes increased border enforcement will decrease the numbers of immigrants successfully crossing the border illegally. Studies have shown, however, that it is unclear whether or not additional border enforcement actually decreases this migrant flow. What is clear is that increased enforcement causes migrants to seek out more desolate and dangerous crossing points, thereby increasing the number of deaths and human rights abuses that migrants suffer during their crossing.
The assumption that U.S. borders need to be secured through increased immigration enforcement also neglects the reality that the majority of “illegal” immigrants in the U.S. do not enter the U.S. through its southern border, but rather on planes or public buses. These immigrants enter legally, with papers, and then simply overstay their visas (thereby becoming “undocumented”).
Lastly, this assumption ignores that fact that, when it is harder to cross into the U.S., not only to immigrants keep coming, but they stay longer. Once they make it across once, they are less inclined to travel back home for periods of time because they don’t want to have to risk the difficult crossing more than necessary. This ironic consequence actually tends to increase the number of undocumented immigrants in the U.S.
Even when we consider the drug trade, it is unclear if increased border security is the best step. Studies have shown that efforts focused on decreasing the demand for drugs through treatment and rehabilitation of drug users are twenty times more effective than aggressive attacks on drug traffickers (Rydell and Evering, 1994).
When Obama talks about “securing the border,” one thing he is signaling is the desire the U.S. has to know exactly who is entering and exiting the U.S. for security reasons. I agree that this goal cannot be accomplished when people cross the border illegally. Nevertheless, beefing up border security isn’t the only way to accomplish this goal. Increased opportunities and flexibility regarding entry into the U.S., combined with thorough documentation and registration at points of entry, would provide potential immigrants with legal alternatives for entering the country. These options would need to be accessible and take into account the range of abilities and backgrounds of potential migrants.
While the policy position of the Obama administration regarding immigration makes some real strides regarding human rights protections of immigrants, it still falls short on its border politics. It blindly accepts the paradigm that the border needs to be secured against our southern neighbors, without taking into account the effects and contradictions of border enforcement. True human-rights centered immigration reform needs to recognize the realities of the immigration situation and to focus on pathways for legal entry and on decreasing the vulnerability of migrants in their journey.
Rydell and Evering. "Controlling Cocaine, Prepared for the Office of National Drug Control Policy and the United States Army", (Santa Monica, Rand Corporation Study 1994, summary available online at http://www.mindfully.org/Reform/Cocaine-Supply-Demand1994.htm
It is true that the Obama has taken an approach to the immigration issue in the U.S. that tends to focus more on the human rights of immigrants than many of the recent discussions and broad-scale actions on the issue, which tend to target immigrants as criminals. For example, the policy position on immigration listed on the administration’s website mentions the need to increase the number of visas available for legal immigrants and eliminate the back-log in applications for legal entry. The position also supports the development of a pathway to legalization for undocumented immigrants already in the country.
I believe changes such as these are definitely critical for preserving the human rights of immigrants. Increased options for legalization will decrease the vulnerability that many immigrants face because of their undocumented status.
Nevertheless, if the Obama administration wants to claim their policy is working on protecting human rights, they are sorely off-track in one of their stated opinions. The emphasize the need to secure our nation’s borders and the intention to provide for “additional personnel, infrastructure and technology on the border.” Used in this context, “securing the border” most likely refers to combating drug trafficking and obstructing illegal immigration.
In terms of immigration, this argument falls in line with the well-worn political paradigm that assumes increased border enforcement will decrease the numbers of immigrants successfully crossing the border illegally. Studies have shown, however, that it is unclear whether or not additional border enforcement actually decreases this migrant flow. What is clear is that increased enforcement causes migrants to seek out more desolate and dangerous crossing points, thereby increasing the number of deaths and human rights abuses that migrants suffer during their crossing.
The assumption that U.S. borders need to be secured through increased immigration enforcement also neglects the reality that the majority of “illegal” immigrants in the U.S. do not enter the U.S. through its southern border, but rather on planes or public buses. These immigrants enter legally, with papers, and then simply overstay their visas (thereby becoming “undocumented”).
Lastly, this assumption ignores that fact that, when it is harder to cross into the U.S., not only to immigrants keep coming, but they stay longer. Once they make it across once, they are less inclined to travel back home for periods of time because they don’t want to have to risk the difficult crossing more than necessary. This ironic consequence actually tends to increase the number of undocumented immigrants in the U.S.
Even when we consider the drug trade, it is unclear if increased border security is the best step. Studies have shown that efforts focused on decreasing the demand for drugs through treatment and rehabilitation of drug users are twenty times more effective than aggressive attacks on drug traffickers (Rydell and Evering, 1994).
When Obama talks about “securing the border,” one thing he is signaling is the desire the U.S. has to know exactly who is entering and exiting the U.S. for security reasons. I agree that this goal cannot be accomplished when people cross the border illegally. Nevertheless, beefing up border security isn’t the only way to accomplish this goal. Increased opportunities and flexibility regarding entry into the U.S., combined with thorough documentation and registration at points of entry, would provide potential immigrants with legal alternatives for entering the country. These options would need to be accessible and take into account the range of abilities and backgrounds of potential migrants.
While the policy position of the Obama administration regarding immigration makes some real strides regarding human rights protections of immigrants, it still falls short on its border politics. It blindly accepts the paradigm that the border needs to be secured against our southern neighbors, without taking into account the effects and contradictions of border enforcement. True human-rights centered immigration reform needs to recognize the realities of the immigration situation and to focus on pathways for legal entry and on decreasing the vulnerability of migrants in their journey.
Rydell and Evering. "Controlling Cocaine, Prepared for the Office of National Drug Control Policy and the United States Army", (Santa Monica, Rand Corporation Study 1994, summary available online at http://www.mindfully.org/Reform/Cocaine-Supply-Demand1994.htm
Women, migration, vulnerability
Similar version cross-posted on the Casa Colectivo blog: http://www.casacollective.org/story/issue-69-march-2009/migrant-women-mexico
The other day, my friend and co-worker, Fabian, from Germany, interviewed me for an article he is writing on the life and people of the Jesús el Buen Pastor Shelter. One of the questions he asked me, what has been the experience that has most impacted you during your time here. My answer was this:
About a month ago, a young Honduran woman arrived in the clinic at the other shelter where I have been working, Albergue Belén. She wanted to know if we had the birth control shot, Depo Provera. She told us that her previous one just worn off and, because she knows what the dangers are like in the trip that lies ahead of her; she wants to be protected, at least against pregnancy. In other words, this young woman knows that it is highly likely that, during her time traveling as an undocumented migrant in Mexico, she will be raped.
According to the 2008 Migration Forum in Madrid, Spain, eight out of every ten female migrants that enter Mexico through its southern border are raped at some point during their journey through the country. And this figure doesn’t even take into account the more subtle forms that women are taken advantage of sexually, such as exchanging sex for “protection” along the journey from a male traveling companion or feeling the need to prostitute themselves in order to earn money to satisfy their basic needs.
For me, it’s hard to even conceive of what it would be like to be in a situation like many of the female migrants traveling across Mexico; to be cognizant of the dangers that faced me, but to feel the need to take them on, meanwhile negotiating my options to make the repercussions the least harmful possible. But rape is rape. Even when you work your options to ensure that you don’t get pregnant, no woman should have to have that experience.
The woman who entered the clinic that day was my same age. She has a child, but she has spent the last year working in a bar in Guatemala to try to earn money. Now she is heading northward to the United States to try to find better work, and, although she is clearly scared, she is ready to face the heavy dangers that may lie in her path. She wants to earn money to support her son. Speaking with her, hearing her story, I was struck by the world of differences between us, by the extent to which my life has guaranteed me privileges that this woman can hardly touch. And yet, we weren’t quite so different. We laughed together as she told stories from her journey. And when the doctor was getting ready to give her the birth control shot, she looked at us with worried eyes and asked in a serious voice, “Does it hurt?”
The other day, my friend and co-worker, Fabian, from Germany, interviewed me for an article he is writing on the life and people of the Jesús el Buen Pastor Shelter. One of the questions he asked me, what has been the experience that has most impacted you during your time here. My answer was this:
About a month ago, a young Honduran woman arrived in the clinic at the other shelter where I have been working, Albergue Belén. She wanted to know if we had the birth control shot, Depo Provera. She told us that her previous one just worn off and, because she knows what the dangers are like in the trip that lies ahead of her; she wants to be protected, at least against pregnancy. In other words, this young woman knows that it is highly likely that, during her time traveling as an undocumented migrant in Mexico, she will be raped.
According to the 2008 Migration Forum in Madrid, Spain, eight out of every ten female migrants that enter Mexico through its southern border are raped at some point during their journey through the country. And this figure doesn’t even take into account the more subtle forms that women are taken advantage of sexually, such as exchanging sex for “protection” along the journey from a male traveling companion or feeling the need to prostitute themselves in order to earn money to satisfy their basic needs.
For me, it’s hard to even conceive of what it would be like to be in a situation like many of the female migrants traveling across Mexico; to be cognizant of the dangers that faced me, but to feel the need to take them on, meanwhile negotiating my options to make the repercussions the least harmful possible. But rape is rape. Even when you work your options to ensure that you don’t get pregnant, no woman should have to have that experience.
The woman who entered the clinic that day was my same age. She has a child, but she has spent the last year working in a bar in Guatemala to try to earn money. Now she is heading northward to the United States to try to find better work, and, although she is clearly scared, she is ready to face the heavy dangers that may lie in her path. She wants to earn money to support her son. Speaking with her, hearing her story, I was struck by the world of differences between us, by the extent to which my life has guaranteed me privileges that this woman can hardly touch. And yet, we weren’t quite so different. We laughed together as she told stories from her journey. And when the doctor was getting ready to give her the birth control shot, she looked at us with worried eyes and asked in a serious voice, “Does it hurt?”
Friday, March 13, 2009
Local knowledge (or lack thereof) about HIV/AIDS
My new job working on HIV/AIDS prevention projects has not only allowed me to start carrying out prevention education in the migrant shelter where I have been assigned but has also carried with it the unintended consequence of allowing me to start educating in the community, sometimes in the most unexpected places. I'll explain what I mean: in Chiapas, although there is quite a bit of racial mixing in the cities and there are some pretty white locals, I still tend to stand out as a foreigner. Strangers often take an interest in me, wanting to know where I'm from and what I'm doing here. Lately, I've told them about my new work. After sharing this information, many of these people identify me as a source of reliable information, and start to ask me questions. In some cases, the lack of knowledge people have about HIV, AIDS, and prevention methods is quite shocking. For example, many people continue to believe that HIV can be transmitted through mosquitoes. Many others don’t understand that there is a difference between HIV and AIDS. One taxi driver even asked me, “well, I know that it can be passed from a man to a woman having “relations” [vaginal sex], but it can’t be passed from the woman to the man, right?”
Lack of knowledge of this sort has a lot to do with an overall lack of comprehensive reproductive health education in schools and other institutions in Mexico. Another factor is most likely the generally conservative nature of Mexican culture, which makes it taboo to talk about sex and sexuality (especially sex before marriage) among friends and family. Fortunately, in does seem that in recent years, reproductive health has gained footing as a “hot topic” of interest. Sex education is on the rise, particularly in the work of non-profit organizations. As a result, young people tend to have much better understanding of the issues than their parents. Nevertheless, even with this education, a number of barriers conspire to cause young people to continue to engage in risky behaviors. For example, it is very difficult to buy condoms in Mexico, and even harder to do so “anonymously.” In the pharmacies here, you have to ask for condoms from one of the clerks. These clerks are known to give judgmental looks at the customer. If the customer is a youth, clerks may lecture them on the importance of abstinence until marriage. If anyone who knows the youth or their family sees them buying condoms, they might gossip about the youth or share the information with their parents (who, influenced by the taboo of sex before marriage, might get angry with or punish their children). If a young woman is seen buying condoms, she is often labeled a “slut.” In addition to difficulties buying condoms, the cultural influence of “machismo” also creates a major barrier to safe sex, and tends to put women in a particularly vulnerable position. If a woman suggests that a condom be used, men interpret it as a sign that she has a sexually transmitted infection (STI), and not that she is trying to protect herself. If the woman tries to use a condom with her partner, she will be accused of having multiple partners. Again in this case, the woman is labeled a “slut.” Women often resort to using the morning after pill as their main contraceptive. This method, however, causes unnecessary physical stress on the woman's system and doesn't protect her against STIs. On the other hand, it is “macho” for men to have multiple partners, even if they are married or have a stable partner. This increases the chances that they will be infected with an STI, making their female partners who are pressured against suggesting the use of a condom particularly invulnerable. Machismo also influences the high prevalence and impact of homophobia in Mexican society. Because of this homophobia, men who are homosexual or bisexual often “hide” their sexual preferences from their friends and families. In many case, they never fully admit their preferences to themselves. For that reason, sexual relations they do have with men are often sporadic, unplanned, and occur in states of inebriation. These factors, combined with the guilt they experience, decrease the chances that they will be prepared with condoms and that they will use them.
As mentioned above, there are a number of encouraging signs that reproductive health education is becoming more prevalent in Mexico. Nevertheless, this education will need to be combined with policy changes and increased cultural sensitivity in order to facilitate the exercise of safe sex behaviors.
Lack of knowledge of this sort has a lot to do with an overall lack of comprehensive reproductive health education in schools and other institutions in Mexico. Another factor is most likely the generally conservative nature of Mexican culture, which makes it taboo to talk about sex and sexuality (especially sex before marriage) among friends and family. Fortunately, in does seem that in recent years, reproductive health has gained footing as a “hot topic” of interest. Sex education is on the rise, particularly in the work of non-profit organizations. As a result, young people tend to have much better understanding of the issues than their parents. Nevertheless, even with this education, a number of barriers conspire to cause young people to continue to engage in risky behaviors. For example, it is very difficult to buy condoms in Mexico, and even harder to do so “anonymously.” In the pharmacies here, you have to ask for condoms from one of the clerks. These clerks are known to give judgmental looks at the customer. If the customer is a youth, clerks may lecture them on the importance of abstinence until marriage. If anyone who knows the youth or their family sees them buying condoms, they might gossip about the youth or share the information with their parents (who, influenced by the taboo of sex before marriage, might get angry with or punish their children). If a young woman is seen buying condoms, she is often labeled a “slut.” In addition to difficulties buying condoms, the cultural influence of “machismo” also creates a major barrier to safe sex, and tends to put women in a particularly vulnerable position. If a woman suggests that a condom be used, men interpret it as a sign that she has a sexually transmitted infection (STI), and not that she is trying to protect herself. If the woman tries to use a condom with her partner, she will be accused of having multiple partners. Again in this case, the woman is labeled a “slut.” Women often resort to using the morning after pill as their main contraceptive. This method, however, causes unnecessary physical stress on the woman's system and doesn't protect her against STIs. On the other hand, it is “macho” for men to have multiple partners, even if they are married or have a stable partner. This increases the chances that they will be infected with an STI, making their female partners who are pressured against suggesting the use of a condom particularly invulnerable. Machismo also influences the high prevalence and impact of homophobia in Mexican society. Because of this homophobia, men who are homosexual or bisexual often “hide” their sexual preferences from their friends and families. In many case, they never fully admit their preferences to themselves. For that reason, sexual relations they do have with men are often sporadic, unplanned, and occur in states of inebriation. These factors, combined with the guilt they experience, decrease the chances that they will be prepared with condoms and that they will use them.
As mentioned above, there are a number of encouraging signs that reproductive health education is becoming more prevalent in Mexico. Nevertheless, this education will need to be combined with policy changes and increased cultural sensitivity in order to facilitate the exercise of safe sex behaviors.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
"Los Zetas" in Southern Mexico
Similar version cross-posted on the Casa Collective blog: http://www.casacollective.org/story/issue-68-february-2009/zetas-and-migrants-report-southern-border
Central American migrants traveling through Mexico towards the United States face many potential dangers during their time in Mexican territory. Robbers, assailants, gangs, and corrupt police and officials patrol common migrant pathways to rob, abuse, and assault them as they pass. Additional dangers come from wildlife or a possible accident on the cargo train many migrants utilize to travel northward.
On top of all these dangers, a new threat is quickly gaining in severity and frequency. Los Zetas, a powerful gang made up of ex-soldiers from Mexico, has targeted migrants in order to extort money and increase their power.
A common way that the Zetas harm migrants is through kidnappings. Migrants are kidnapped along the route northwards, and then held for ransom from their families.
The Zetas have mostly likely targeted migrants for these kidnappings because their vulnerable situation as undocumented in the country makes them “easy prey.” Many travel alone or in small groups. Their undocumented status causes them to seek out unpopulated areas for traveling and to avoid authorities. These factors make it easier for the kidnappers to assault them during the journey. The victim is then brought to a remote location and the family is contacted.
The victims of the Zetas are rarely “random.” Certain migrants are chosen whom the Zetas believe to have relatives that will be able to pay large ransoms. Migrants with relatives already living in the United States seem to be targeted. Nevertheless, there are cases where migrants with very poor families have been kidnapped. In these cases, there is money available because the family has borrowed money from family and neighbors and has saved it away in order to pay the smuggler or “coyote” to cross the northern border into the U.S. The money is considered an “investment” in the earnings that the family member will hopefully gain in the United States. When the money is used to pay the kidnappers, the family is financially devastated and left in debt. Sometimes families need to borrow even more money to meet the demands of the kidnappers.
Once the money has been received, the victims are usually set free. In many cases, the Zetas make special arrangements with the family to use their networks to cross the migrant into the United States after the ransom is paid. Nevertheless, trickery is common and these promises aren’t always fulfilled. In other cases, victims are simply left in the street. Unfortunately, it is not always possible to pay, and executions are also practiced.
The Zetas are able to exercise their choices of victims because they have “people” in many different places. They have infiltrated the migrant shelters to scope out victims. They spend time at the train tracks where migrants gather before traveling northwards on the cargo trains. For example, volunteers at the Casa del Migrante in Arriaga, where the cargo train begins its route, have observed men in military-style clothing recording with a video camera at the train tracks.
The Zetas seem to be interested in controlling many aspects of the northward pathway for migrants and exercising their control. In addition to kidnappings, robberies of migrants have been attributed to them. Their involvement has also been suspected in more serious incidents, such as a large coordinated assault on December 23rd 2008, about 8 kilometers outside of Arriaga. In this occasion, a group of about 20-30 assailants attacked migrants traveling on the cargo train. Three people died and many more were injured. A possible objective of operations such as these may be to maintain territorial control over other gangs or to keep migrants afraid and submissive. Migrants present at the event were certainly shocked by what they had seen. As a young Salvadoran in the Casa del Migrante in Arriaga told me, “They just came at us from behind… The women, the men, all of us… The almost killed my cousin…”
Aside from migrants, the Zetas also have known involvements in drug trafficking cartels. They carry out similar activities with these groups – kidnappings and executions – all with the same aim of maintaining control, exhorting funds, and building power.
As ex-soldiers, the Zetas present special threats because of the previous training they received in the Mexican military. They are highly trained in combat operations and the use of high-tech equipment, which they utilize in their criminal operations.
One major challenge to confronting the Zetas is the complexity of their power structure. Power is distributed through a system of leaders and sub-leaders in such a way that, if one boss is removed, there is always someone else who is prepared and trained to immediately take his or her place.
In recent years, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security has taken an interest in combating the Zetas. They have helped organize raids to capture Zeta leadership as a part of the U.S.’s “war” on drugs and drug smuggling. An irony of this situation is that, traditionally, funds given to Mexico for U.S. security interests have often been channeled into funding and training for the Mexican military. Since the Zetas are ex-Mexican soldiers, it is likely that, for at least some of them, the U.S. government funded the training they received in the Mexican military. In spite of this relationship and the likelihood that unintended consequences such as these will continue to occur with additional funding, the U.S. government continues to provide funding for training and technical support to the Mexican military, the most recent of which was provided in the Mérida Initiative (a.k.a. Plan México) this past June 2008.
While Mexican police and military assist in the raids mentioned above, they were primarily directed by U.S. entities. The Mexican government has taken relatively little action to try to confront the activities of the Zetas or to dismantle their operations. Considering the infamous corruption among Mexican authorities, a likely reason for this inaction is that influence is being exerted in various levels of Mexican government on the part of the Zetas to allow for (or at least to ignore) their continued operations.
While the U.S. military operatives against the Zetas demonstrate that there is at least some interest in tackling the organization of the Zetas from above, migrants’ rights activists point out there has been practically been no response on the part of the U.S. or the Mexican government to confront the problems and violations that the Zetas cause on the ground level in the lived experience of migrants. There is a general indifference on the part of Mexican authorities towards migrants in the country, and towards the harsh situation that they face. Similar feelings of indifference are most likely held by U.S. authorities, whose deterrence-based border control policy has generally been more focused on keeping out undesired migrants than on preserving human rights. This indifference, however, needs to end. The Mexican government needs to take urgent actions to preserve the human rights of migrants in their territory. Similarly, the international community needs to raise up a strong call of protest against the violations being carried out by the Zetas, and demand that steps be made to protect the human rights and dignity of migrants in Mexican territory.
Central American migrants traveling through Mexico towards the United States face many potential dangers during their time in Mexican territory. Robbers, assailants, gangs, and corrupt police and officials patrol common migrant pathways to rob, abuse, and assault them as they pass. Additional dangers come from wildlife or a possible accident on the cargo train many migrants utilize to travel northward.
On top of all these dangers, a new threat is quickly gaining in severity and frequency. Los Zetas, a powerful gang made up of ex-soldiers from Mexico, has targeted migrants in order to extort money and increase their power.
A common way that the Zetas harm migrants is through kidnappings. Migrants are kidnapped along the route northwards, and then held for ransom from their families.
The Zetas have mostly likely targeted migrants for these kidnappings because their vulnerable situation as undocumented in the country makes them “easy prey.” Many travel alone or in small groups. Their undocumented status causes them to seek out unpopulated areas for traveling and to avoid authorities. These factors make it easier for the kidnappers to assault them during the journey. The victim is then brought to a remote location and the family is contacted.
The victims of the Zetas are rarely “random.” Certain migrants are chosen whom the Zetas believe to have relatives that will be able to pay large ransoms. Migrants with relatives already living in the United States seem to be targeted. Nevertheless, there are cases where migrants with very poor families have been kidnapped. In these cases, there is money available because the family has borrowed money from family and neighbors and has saved it away in order to pay the smuggler or “coyote” to cross the northern border into the U.S. The money is considered an “investment” in the earnings that the family member will hopefully gain in the United States. When the money is used to pay the kidnappers, the family is financially devastated and left in debt. Sometimes families need to borrow even more money to meet the demands of the kidnappers.
Once the money has been received, the victims are usually set free. In many cases, the Zetas make special arrangements with the family to use their networks to cross the migrant into the United States after the ransom is paid. Nevertheless, trickery is common and these promises aren’t always fulfilled. In other cases, victims are simply left in the street. Unfortunately, it is not always possible to pay, and executions are also practiced.
The Zetas are able to exercise their choices of victims because they have “people” in many different places. They have infiltrated the migrant shelters to scope out victims. They spend time at the train tracks where migrants gather before traveling northwards on the cargo trains. For example, volunteers at the Casa del Migrante in Arriaga, where the cargo train begins its route, have observed men in military-style clothing recording with a video camera at the train tracks.
The Zetas seem to be interested in controlling many aspects of the northward pathway for migrants and exercising their control. In addition to kidnappings, robberies of migrants have been attributed to them. Their involvement has also been suspected in more serious incidents, such as a large coordinated assault on December 23rd 2008, about 8 kilometers outside of Arriaga. In this occasion, a group of about 20-30 assailants attacked migrants traveling on the cargo train. Three people died and many more were injured. A possible objective of operations such as these may be to maintain territorial control over other gangs or to keep migrants afraid and submissive. Migrants present at the event were certainly shocked by what they had seen. As a young Salvadoran in the Casa del Migrante in Arriaga told me, “They just came at us from behind… The women, the men, all of us… The almost killed my cousin…”
Aside from migrants, the Zetas also have known involvements in drug trafficking cartels. They carry out similar activities with these groups – kidnappings and executions – all with the same aim of maintaining control, exhorting funds, and building power.
As ex-soldiers, the Zetas present special threats because of the previous training they received in the Mexican military. They are highly trained in combat operations and the use of high-tech equipment, which they utilize in their criminal operations.
One major challenge to confronting the Zetas is the complexity of their power structure. Power is distributed through a system of leaders and sub-leaders in such a way that, if one boss is removed, there is always someone else who is prepared and trained to immediately take his or her place.
In recent years, the U.S. Department of Homeland Security has taken an interest in combating the Zetas. They have helped organize raids to capture Zeta leadership as a part of the U.S.’s “war” on drugs and drug smuggling. An irony of this situation is that, traditionally, funds given to Mexico for U.S. security interests have often been channeled into funding and training for the Mexican military. Since the Zetas are ex-Mexican soldiers, it is likely that, for at least some of them, the U.S. government funded the training they received in the Mexican military. In spite of this relationship and the likelihood that unintended consequences such as these will continue to occur with additional funding, the U.S. government continues to provide funding for training and technical support to the Mexican military, the most recent of which was provided in the Mérida Initiative (a.k.a. Plan México) this past June 2008.
While Mexican police and military assist in the raids mentioned above, they were primarily directed by U.S. entities. The Mexican government has taken relatively little action to try to confront the activities of the Zetas or to dismantle their operations. Considering the infamous corruption among Mexican authorities, a likely reason for this inaction is that influence is being exerted in various levels of Mexican government on the part of the Zetas to allow for (or at least to ignore) their continued operations.
While the U.S. military operatives against the Zetas demonstrate that there is at least some interest in tackling the organization of the Zetas from above, migrants’ rights activists point out there has been practically been no response on the part of the U.S. or the Mexican government to confront the problems and violations that the Zetas cause on the ground level in the lived experience of migrants. There is a general indifference on the part of Mexican authorities towards migrants in the country, and towards the harsh situation that they face. Similar feelings of indifference are most likely held by U.S. authorities, whose deterrence-based border control policy has generally been more focused on keeping out undesired migrants than on preserving human rights. This indifference, however, needs to end. The Mexican government needs to take urgent actions to preserve the human rights of migrants in their territory. Similarly, the international community needs to raise up a strong call of protest against the violations being carried out by the Zetas, and demand that steps be made to protect the human rights and dignity of migrants in Mexican territory.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Apprehended Moms and Deported Kids
Similar version cross-posted on the Casa Collective blog: http://www.casacollective.org/story/issue-67-january-2009/apprehended-moms-and-deported-kids-new-face-migrant-family-disintegratio
Apprehended moms and deported kids: the new face of migrant family disintegration
Virginia Fernandez is worried. Five days ago she was apprehended by migration authorities in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas. Her crime? Being a Honduran on Mexican soil without authorization. Now, she is awaiting her deportation back to her home country. Nevertheless, this impending deportation isn’t what’s most worrying Virginia. No, Virginia is worried about being separated from her three young children who were traveling with her when she was apprehended. Her children are also in custody of Mexican immigration and are also awaiting deportation. The problem is that Virginia´s children are citizens of the United States of America. They cannot be deported “back” to Honduras along with their mother because they do not hold citizenship there. Instead, Mexican authorities are required to try to send them back to the United States, effectively breaking up the family.
Cases of migrants getting apprehended on Mexico soil and deported back to their home countries are not uncommon. Each year, Mexican migration detains approximately 150,000 undocumented migrants. The grand majority of these migrants are Central and South Americans heading northward to the United States in search of work opportunities and better pay. Mexican immigration policy places restrictions on who can cross its borders and who can obtain visas. Therefore, the majority of these migrants headed northward cross through Mexico “illegally” (without the necessary legal documents). Because Mexican immigration policy also authorizes immigration officials to seek out and apprehend undocumented migrants throughout the entire country, undocumented migrants risk getting detained during their entire time crossing Mexico.
Many consider these immigration policies and practices of Mexico to be inspired, at least in part, by the immigration-related political agenda of the United States. In recent years, this agenda has typically focused on keeping out “undesirables” and keeping out the unauthorized. The immigration policies of the United States place strict limits on who can enter the country and receive visas and, in general, tend to favor rich individuals, people from first-world countries, family members of citizens, and individuals with special skills and education. The poor and relatively untrained who don’t have U.S. citizen family members (characteristics which apply to the majority of potential immigrants from South and Central America) do not fit in to any immigrant group “desired” by the U.S. and have few options for entering the country legally. As a result, many of these immigrants attempt to enter the country in undocumented fashion, crossing the U.S./Mexican border “illegally” (at points other than the regulated points of entry). One way the U.S. has responded to the phenomenon of unauthorized immigration across its southern border has been to aggressively ramp up enforcement of this border line. Migration authorities are employed to seek out and apprehend migrants attempting to enter the United States without authorization.
There are a variety of reasons why Mexican’s migration policies are considered to be influenced by the U.S. agenda of immigration controls and border enforcement. First of all, the U.S. holds a strategic interest in Mexico. Because Mexico is a common pathway towards the United States for migrants, the enforcement in Mexico plays a role in limiting undocumented immigration to the United States. Another reason why Mexican policies are considered to be influenced by U.S. interests is that there have been specific means through which the U.S. has had the opportunity to enter into dialogue with Mexican leaders and exert diplomatic pressure, such as in the meetings of the Regional Conference on Migration (a.k.a. the Puebla Process). Lastly, U.S. influence can be seen in the fact that Mexican immigration control generally focuses more on controlling northward undocumented flow than on southward movement. Though various Mexican leaders have disputed the claim that Mexican policies are inspired by the U.S. agenda, reasons such as these show that this influence is likely at work. Considering this, we can conclude that one major motivation behind Mexican immigration policy is to deter the entry of Central and South American workers into the United States.
The most ironic part of Virginia’s story, therefore, is that even though the efforts of migration is primarily focused on cutting off northward migration, in cases like hers, the apprehended family isn’t even trying to enter the United States. Rather, the family is in the process of “return migration,” headed back to the home country of the mother.
This is a phenomenon that has recently arisen and is being observed more and more often in Mexican detention facilities, says Sindy Hau, who works at a migrant shelter for children and women in Tapachula, Mexico. In many of these cases, Hau says, the mother decides to leave the United States because she is suffering from spousal abuse, poverty, or some other difficult situation. She determines that the best place to build a life for herself and her children is in the home country. After being caught by Mexican authorities, however, the family becomes enmeshed in a sticky situation. Before deporting the children, authorities work with the consulate of the country of origin in order identify somebody, most often a family member, to receive the children in their home country. If none can be located or the home situation is deemed unsafe for the child, then the child should not be deported and theoretically can enter into a process to obtain regularized status in Mexico. However, as Hau tells me, if the country of origin is the United States and the authorities are contacted, the U.S. consulate will demand that the child be returned to the country. Effectively, once the U.S. is called, the mother has no chance of keeping her children. The families are stuck in limbo, wondering whether or not to call, unsure of their next step.
This example shows how, when we consider the actual lived experience of migrants, immigration enforcement as outlined by Mexican policy can have many negative consequences that were, given their motivations, basically unintended. Even though the policies were created to detain northward migration and immigration, migrants heading southward to their own countries are also apprehended. And although the policies are focused on preventing and detaining labor migrants, they end up having severe negative “side effects” on the well-being of families, mothers, and children throughout Latin America.
Clearly, the story lived by Virginia and other women in her position is a fairly extreme example of the way these restrictive immigration policies lead to unintended negative side effects. Nevertheless, the example is illustrative of the bigger picture. There are a wide range of these types of secondary effects in the lives of migrants that result from the restrictive nature of both U.S. and Mexican immigration policy. For example, families migration together risk getting split up, either by harsh conditions they encounter along their path or after being detained. In addition, the difficulty of crossing into the U.S. tends to increase the length of time that families spend apart from one another because migrants who enter illegally don’t want to risk leaving the country and having to attempt the difficult crossing again.
What’s more, it’s not even clear that these restrictive policies actually serve to fulfill their objective of detaining and limiting immigration. For example, U.S. border enforcement revolves around the assumption that increasing the number of border patrol agents decreases the number of unauthorized entries across the border. However, evaluations of the effectiveness of this strategy have proven to be inconclusive. What is clear, however, is that increased border enforcement has a direct relationship with one of these “secondary effects” – the number of deaths of migrants attempting to cross the border.
United States and Mexican immigration policy and the immigration control agenda needs to be re-evaluated and to be considered in terms of how it is actually affecting the lives of migrants and their families. Even if the motivations behind the policies are sound (which can also be called into question); the severity of their side effects should be considered when evaluating the ethics and appropriateness of their usage. Stories like Virginia’s tug at our heartstrings. We must listen to these stories while also looking at the root causes of the problems they relate in order to advocate for truly responsible reforms to immigration policy.
Apprehended moms and deported kids: the new face of migrant family disintegration
Virginia Fernandez is worried. Five days ago she was apprehended by migration authorities in the southern Mexican state of Chiapas. Her crime? Being a Honduran on Mexican soil without authorization. Now, she is awaiting her deportation back to her home country. Nevertheless, this impending deportation isn’t what’s most worrying Virginia. No, Virginia is worried about being separated from her three young children who were traveling with her when she was apprehended. Her children are also in custody of Mexican immigration and are also awaiting deportation. The problem is that Virginia´s children are citizens of the United States of America. They cannot be deported “back” to Honduras along with their mother because they do not hold citizenship there. Instead, Mexican authorities are required to try to send them back to the United States, effectively breaking up the family.
Cases of migrants getting apprehended on Mexico soil and deported back to their home countries are not uncommon. Each year, Mexican migration detains approximately 150,000 undocumented migrants. The grand majority of these migrants are Central and South Americans heading northward to the United States in search of work opportunities and better pay. Mexican immigration policy places restrictions on who can cross its borders and who can obtain visas. Therefore, the majority of these migrants headed northward cross through Mexico “illegally” (without the necessary legal documents). Because Mexican immigration policy also authorizes immigration officials to seek out and apprehend undocumented migrants throughout the entire country, undocumented migrants risk getting detained during their entire time crossing Mexico.
Many consider these immigration policies and practices of Mexico to be inspired, at least in part, by the immigration-related political agenda of the United States. In recent years, this agenda has typically focused on keeping out “undesirables” and keeping out the unauthorized. The immigration policies of the United States place strict limits on who can enter the country and receive visas and, in general, tend to favor rich individuals, people from first-world countries, family members of citizens, and individuals with special skills and education. The poor and relatively untrained who don’t have U.S. citizen family members (characteristics which apply to the majority of potential immigrants from South and Central America) do not fit in to any immigrant group “desired” by the U.S. and have few options for entering the country legally. As a result, many of these immigrants attempt to enter the country in undocumented fashion, crossing the U.S./Mexican border “illegally” (at points other than the regulated points of entry). One way the U.S. has responded to the phenomenon of unauthorized immigration across its southern border has been to aggressively ramp up enforcement of this border line. Migration authorities are employed to seek out and apprehend migrants attempting to enter the United States without authorization.
There are a variety of reasons why Mexican’s migration policies are considered to be influenced by the U.S. agenda of immigration controls and border enforcement. First of all, the U.S. holds a strategic interest in Mexico. Because Mexico is a common pathway towards the United States for migrants, the enforcement in Mexico plays a role in limiting undocumented immigration to the United States. Another reason why Mexican policies are considered to be influenced by U.S. interests is that there have been specific means through which the U.S. has had the opportunity to enter into dialogue with Mexican leaders and exert diplomatic pressure, such as in the meetings of the Regional Conference on Migration (a.k.a. the Puebla Process). Lastly, U.S. influence can be seen in the fact that Mexican immigration control generally focuses more on controlling northward undocumented flow than on southward movement. Though various Mexican leaders have disputed the claim that Mexican policies are inspired by the U.S. agenda, reasons such as these show that this influence is likely at work. Considering this, we can conclude that one major motivation behind Mexican immigration policy is to deter the entry of Central and South American workers into the United States.
The most ironic part of Virginia’s story, therefore, is that even though the efforts of migration is primarily focused on cutting off northward migration, in cases like hers, the apprehended family isn’t even trying to enter the United States. Rather, the family is in the process of “return migration,” headed back to the home country of the mother.
This is a phenomenon that has recently arisen and is being observed more and more often in Mexican detention facilities, says Sindy Hau, who works at a migrant shelter for children and women in Tapachula, Mexico. In many of these cases, Hau says, the mother decides to leave the United States because she is suffering from spousal abuse, poverty, or some other difficult situation. She determines that the best place to build a life for herself and her children is in the home country. After being caught by Mexican authorities, however, the family becomes enmeshed in a sticky situation. Before deporting the children, authorities work with the consulate of the country of origin in order identify somebody, most often a family member, to receive the children in their home country. If none can be located or the home situation is deemed unsafe for the child, then the child should not be deported and theoretically can enter into a process to obtain regularized status in Mexico. However, as Hau tells me, if the country of origin is the United States and the authorities are contacted, the U.S. consulate will demand that the child be returned to the country. Effectively, once the U.S. is called, the mother has no chance of keeping her children. The families are stuck in limbo, wondering whether or not to call, unsure of their next step.
This example shows how, when we consider the actual lived experience of migrants, immigration enforcement as outlined by Mexican policy can have many negative consequences that were, given their motivations, basically unintended. Even though the policies were created to detain northward migration and immigration, migrants heading southward to their own countries are also apprehended. And although the policies are focused on preventing and detaining labor migrants, they end up having severe negative “side effects” on the well-being of families, mothers, and children throughout Latin America.
Clearly, the story lived by Virginia and other women in her position is a fairly extreme example of the way these restrictive immigration policies lead to unintended negative side effects. Nevertheless, the example is illustrative of the bigger picture. There are a wide range of these types of secondary effects in the lives of migrants that result from the restrictive nature of both U.S. and Mexican immigration policy. For example, families migration together risk getting split up, either by harsh conditions they encounter along their path or after being detained. In addition, the difficulty of crossing into the U.S. tends to increase the length of time that families spend apart from one another because migrants who enter illegally don’t want to risk leaving the country and having to attempt the difficult crossing again.
What’s more, it’s not even clear that these restrictive policies actually serve to fulfill their objective of detaining and limiting immigration. For example, U.S. border enforcement revolves around the assumption that increasing the number of border patrol agents decreases the number of unauthorized entries across the border. However, evaluations of the effectiveness of this strategy have proven to be inconclusive. What is clear, however, is that increased border enforcement has a direct relationship with one of these “secondary effects” – the number of deaths of migrants attempting to cross the border.
United States and Mexican immigration policy and the immigration control agenda needs to be re-evaluated and to be considered in terms of how it is actually affecting the lives of migrants and their families. Even if the motivations behind the policies are sound (which can also be called into question); the severity of their side effects should be considered when evaluating the ethics and appropriateness of their usage. Stories like Virginia’s tug at our heartstrings. We must listen to these stories while also looking at the root causes of the problems they relate in order to advocate for truly responsible reforms to immigration policy.
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