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.

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

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?”

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.