Walking from Guatemala...

I got up this a.m. at 3 so I could prepare wraps to bring to the crossing with me. I made about 30 wraps with beans, rice, and avocado salsa and an additional 30 with chicken as well. There are people who come to the border who do not eat meat, mostly because of religious reasons – Muslims and Hindus, maybe others as well.

It is another chilly and windy morning. We leave at 5a.m. and arrive most likely by 5:15. At first it is hard to see who is here because this time people have strung some blankets up to make a wall. But as soon as we start the fire, people start rushing over.

Today there are only about 23 folks here and all are from the Dominican Republic. Three or four came together but the rest came separately. They all arrived last night, some at 8pm and some closer to midnight.

A couple even speak a little English. One of the stories I am told today is about a man who was traveling to the border by bus. The bus was stopped although it was not clear to me – you remember my Spanish is horrid – if it was stopped by police or by kidnappers. But this refugee was abducted off the bus, taken into the bushes and beaten until he turned over the information about his family. Then the kidnappers demanded $2,600 before they would let him continue on his way to the border.

His friends say he as a huge (for the Dominican Republic at least) guy and now he is “skinnier than me”, says one of the tall and slender men who speak a little English. Plus he is so wounded, physically and emotionally, he can no longer travel further so he is now in hiding until he can recover.

Everyone is very cold and few will move away from the fire even to eat. Someone grabs the coffee thermos and the only cup available is the lid to the thermos which everyone shares to sip the hot liquid, then pass the cup around like a communion goblet.

As it begins to get light, a few people come over to the bench to eat. Mostly the oranges are eaten and some bananas. Several of the wraps are swooped up until the loaf of bread and a package of baloney appears. The bread and package disappear quickly, as does half the jar of mayonnaise!

A man who is young but appears to be much older arrives. He is very anxious and stressed. He is Mexican and is traveling on an expired passport. We cannot help him.

Then a young man from India arrives and soon after three other men from India arrive. These guys did not know each other in India but know each other now.

I also found out the route from India is quite convoluted – and expensive. You have to fly first to Italy, then Spain. From Spain you fly to El Salvador then Guatemala. From Guatemala you take a taxi to Canton, then catch a bus to Guadalajara and then another bus to Mexicali, where you walk across the border.

This morning, folks are very lucky because at 7:00a.m. first one border patrol van shows up and then another. So now there are two vans.

Suddenly another person just appears. He probably might top 4.5 feet tall, is dark skinned, red eyed, ragged and road weary, extremely shy and is carrying a homemade knapsack on his back made from a plastic woven bag that probably held 25 pounds of rice or maybe potatoes. He has a modern hip haircut that belies his destitute if not forlorn appearance – shaved on sides and back but a strate black clump of hair hanging below his chin from the top of his head.

I offer him food and water and find out he speaks a little English and is from Guatemala. He has lost track of how long he’s been on the road.

Our conversation is cut short because the border patrol guy is calling people to line up. He speaks kindly, at least compared to how the previous guards have spoken. He quickly allows refugees to board the buses, only giving them their plastic bag, taking their pictures and then urging them to board. He stops the Guatemalan and the Mexican before shutting the doors to the vans.

I have counted 30 people so I know there is still room for these two but I also know that if anyone will get targeted and not just by border patrol. But they are both holding the plastic bag so I’m thinking maybe they will send another van.

But the border patrol guy – the nicer one – then talks with them for a few moments, takes their pictures and reopens the door to let them in.

This time, everyone is allowed to keep their bags and I’m told that border patrol has ended the practice of forcing them to discard it right there – where we can witness – but will take their things at the processing center.

By 7:45, everyone is gone and we are left with food. We wait patiently as it begins to warm and in about an hour, three womyn with 2 children appear from Mexico around the wall and begin running down the path toward the bridge. We let them know they don’t have to run and explain both sides of the canal are the u.s., much to the children’s and their mothers’ relief.

We find out these womyn and children are from Bolivia, much to our surprise. We think they are the first Bolivians to cross here. The mother of the two girls, 7 and 5, speaks fairly good English – much better than my Spanish.

We find out they also came through Cancun and then to Tijuana. From Tijuana they took a taxi east along the border to Mexicali. They were charged $600 u.s. dollars for a taxi ride the local brothers say costs $15 normally. Someone else’s economy is benefitting from refugees.

We are thinking it will probably be a long time before the van comes because two have already shown up but just as we are saying this, another van comes. This guard also quickly boards them and drives away and we are left again with an empty crossing and lots of food and water.

We hang around until noon and no one else comes. We muse on what could be going on and speculate maybe people came in through another crossing. But what is really suspect is the border patrol and how quickly and easily they came for people and processed them, at least on this end.

These shelters were put up by border patrol after Fernie and Nathalie negotiated heavily for this to happen. We fold up blankets and leave them hanging over the edges of the shelters for when people arrive in the night. We also leave water and some fruit and granola bars.

You can see the ground is very hard dirt and gravel.

Sunrise through the steel girders

This concrete bridge to the left of the picture is on the Mexico side of the border and goes over the canal. The u.s. wall there ends a several feet and you can see where folk can walk around on the right side of the picture. When they are on the other side of the wall, they are on u.s. soil but many do not know that - therefore they run, thinking they can be stopped and picked up by Mexican police and deported.