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.

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

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

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.

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

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.