Reflections/Stories

03/28/24

The main goal of almost all migrants at Casa Tochan is to receive an appointment at the US-Mexico Southern border with the US Customs and Border Protection Agency to cross legally into the US. Upon arrival at the shelter, I help them with their application, and every day after they submit it they have to ask for the appointment, again and again. For more specific info on the CBP-One app and application process, check out my February newsletter. The general wait time has been around two and a half to three months, but recently it has been getting longer and longer, and remaining hopeful has been a struggle for many. Living in a shelter where you sleep on a thin mat on a concrete floor, hundreds or thousands of miles away from home and family is hard. Quite literally, and figuratively. 

From what we know about the CBP One application acceptance system, about sixty percent of registrations/applications are put in a line, where acceptance is based on seniority. Therefore, the longer you have been waiting, the further up in the line you move as those before you receive their appointments. The other forty percent of applications are in a large pool where acceptance is luck, like the lottery. There's no way to know which group your application is in. I always tell our guests to assume they're a part of the sixty percent, and that they will have to wait and wait until it's their turn. To assume otherwise could prove more difficult emotionally, so to better manage their expectations, its assumed that they're in the back of the line. For those that end up in the forty percent, it's something completely different. Everything is left to chance, which in some cases is quite bad. I've seen guests wait over five months and still, nothing. I've heard of people waiting for longer than five months, and then decide to delete the application and try again with a new one, then receive their appointment a month later from the new application. In that case, with the prior application, they were probably in the forty percent and never got picked. However, in very few cases, luck is on their side. Today I saw luck with my very own eyes. 

About two weeks ago, a 20-year-old from Venezuela arrived alone with a small backpack and his government ID card. His phone had been robbed from him while in Honduras on his way to Mexico. After settling in, he promptly bought a phone so that he could do his registration and apply for an appointment. Two weeks ago I helped him apply, and he has been asking for the appointment every day since, as recommended. Today I arrived at the shelter, ready to take on the last day of work before my Holy Week break and trip to the southern state of Chiapas next week. Upon arrival, a couple of the guys including the 20-year-old newbie from Venezuela, asked me if I would "do the honor" of asking for their appointment through the app today. A few of them have gotten it in their heads that if I do it, they'll get the appointment faster because I will bring them "luck" as a gringa (someone from the US.) I willingly obliged, knowing it was extremely unlikely that either one of them would get it today because both of their applications were less than a month old. I did the first one, and as I assumed, nothing. Then onto the 20-year-olds, and when I saw it I couldn't believe my eyes. There it was, plain as day: "Confirm Appointment." My jaw must have been on the floor, because he was asking me what happened, no doubt wondering if something went wrong or his application was erased. I turned the phone around for him to see, telling him that he had got it. His face turned to pure shock, mirroring mine, and his eyes welled up with tears. The other guy shouted, letting those outside the office know that someone received an appointment. It was a moment of pure joy and chaos as men surrounded and congratulated him, applauding as he wiped his eyes, embarrassed by the tears. I kept thinking about what he must have gone through, the journey he took alone to get to this point, and how much he has left to go. As he stood there, I saw a kid, surrounded by a community of men supporting him, knowing how far away he is from home, and understanding his situation, because they're in it too. Almost all the men in the shelter have been waiting longer than him, asking for the appointment every single day for months. They had every right to be jealous or annoyed, and not to want to share in his joy, but they did. Maybe they did feel that pang of jealousy, but nobody could have noticed. They fully embraced the excitement and joy of his luck, accompanying him through an important and memorable moment of his life. It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever witnessed. It was a moment of pure hope and joy, something that has been lacking as of late for the men here, as well as in my life (and maybe yours too), with the upcoming presidential elections and power politics being played at the southern border. Lord knows the system is far from perfect, and that the 20-year-old from Venezuela certainly still has a long way to go, but these moments of hope and joy within community are what feed me and give me life every day. 

10/30/2023

This past weekend was a bit of an eventful one. I was to have the house all to myself for the entire weekend because my host mom Yuly was in charge of taking members of ELCA who live and work in the US (but are from Spanish-speaking countries) around the city. They came on a work trip to learn more about Mexico, so she had to play tour guide for the weekend. I just had to take care of house stuff like dishes, laundry, and trash. I also had to unlock the church and help out a choir that wanted to use the space on Saturday to practice. I had met the director before, so when he knocked on the door for me to help him into the sanctuary, I was ready with the key Yuly had left me. I readily left the house and shut the door, not realizing this would turn into a significant problem later. 

So, I go over and unlock the church, and help move around some things. He asks if there are any chairs they can use instead of pews. I realize that the church doesn't have any, so I say he can just use ones from the house. We walk back over, and it is at that moment that I realize I messed up. You see, the doors to houses here in Mexico don't have handles on the outside. (Really good for security purposes.) So even if the door is technically unlocked, if it's shut and you're outside, you're screwed. As I realize this, a bit of a sense of panic rushes to my cheeks, making them redder than usual. I turn around, knowing there's no way out of this, and I admit what I did. I left the house without the house key and shut the door behind me. I can't really count the number of racing thoughts that were swirling around my head, but many had the words “you're so stupid” combined with multiple expletives thrown in. He looks at me, a bit of disbelief behind his eyes as he also realizes what's happened. He asks me if there are any extra keys outside or maybe in the church and I sadly have to tell him no. A couple members of the choir come over and he explains to them what I've done. They all have that look of disbelief at first, but soon jump into problem-solving mode. Thank goodness, because I was feeling pretty frozen and extremely embarrassed. 

I text Yuly and let her know what happened. I feel bad for worrying her, because her plans with the group for the day took them across town to the complete other side of the city. For her to change plans for me would have me feeling pretty guilty. She responds by video-calling me, and I explain to her in more detail what happened. She tells us that if we can find someone with a ladder, we can use it to get someone on top of the roof. She says that they can walk across and jump down into our backyard/clothesline area of the house, enter through the back door (which is thankfully unlocked), and then open the front door from the inside. The houses here are all connected, and there's another property/house the church owns between the sanctuary and our house that is run down and not furnished. So essentially, she was telling us to walk across its roof. It sounds a little crazy, but it would take the same amount of time (or less) for us to do this as it would for her to come all the way home and unlock the door for me (while also disrupting her day.) 

So, we all spend about 20 minutes going around to neighbors'  houses, asking if they have a ladder we can borrow. All are super kind and sympathetic, offering names of a locksmith when they don't have a ladder. Eventually, one neighbor points us in the direction of a specific house, explaining that she's seen construction going on outside and that they might have one. We thank her and head over. The door is open and we peer in. A man comes out and we give him our spiel. He looks inside and a teen comes out. He asks us how tall the wall is we need to climb up to get on the roof, and we show him with our hands. He goes back inside and reemerges with a ladder, saying he thinks it's tall enough. We look at each other and smile, saying it is. He walks over with us and I point him to where we need to get on the roof. He asks if we want him to do it and the director and I look at each other. He talks that as a yes, and just starts climbing. He goes over, and I tell him the direction of the backyard. It takes a bit because the roof is old and not in good condition. I assume he was going cautiously (thank goodness.) I go outside on the sidewalk, waiting to see if/when he emerges from the front door. A few minutes later, it opens and out he comes. I go over with what I´m sure is the biggest smile ever and without thinking give him a hug. The director comes over, and takes a few coins out of his wallet and gives it to him. I run inside and grab some out of my purse. I had them to him, thanking him over and over, feeling so incredibly grateful and relieved. I text Yuly, and let her know the good news.

I go back inside, and head upstairs to my room. I lay down and reflect on what just happened and how lucky I was with the outcome. I felt my embarrassment turn into awe at the display of community I had just witnessed for my benefit. I realize that despite wanting chairs, the choir didn't necessarily need them, therefore making their problem-solving and help completely out of the kindness of their hearts. They could've said “Oh well” and I would've had to sit outside or awkwardly in the church while they practiced. I could've been waiting all day for Yuly to come home. Nobody got mad at me or made me feel bad or embarrassed for what I did. The choir director did everything he could to help. The neighbors all helped as much as they could. Even when they didn't have a ladder, they gave information about a possible locksmith or the direction of the house they thought would have a ladder. The men with the ladder could've said no or ignored us. They could've requested some kind of payment. The kid who helped us out didn't have to get up on the roof and do it himself. It wasn't his problem. He just did it because he saw us struggling. They all helped simply because they wanted to. It was such a display of community to see everyone coming together in different ways to help me. It was an incredibly humbling experience. I had no choice but to accept everyone's help, despite my embarrassment. I learned 2 things on Saturday: How to accept help, and to never ever leave the house without my key. 

09/29/2023

I spend a lot of time at Casa Tochan conversing with the men about the United States and what they should know about it. They ask me a lot of questions, and I do my best to respond with my mid-level ability to understand and respond in Spanish. Most of the men are from Venezuela (due to the US government's choice to heavily sanction Venezuela) and their accents are very thick, which often makes for interesting and funny mistakes on my part. Lots of the conversations revolve around which state to try and start a life in. Many have friends or family already in the US who they are trying to live with, so the question of which state is easy. For others, its a question of money and community. Which states are cheaper to start off in? Which states have a lot of Spanish speakers? I spent the past four years earning a degree in International Relations and having theoretical discussions about various topics within the field, immigration included. It feels interesting and humbling now to see the direct and literal consequences of foreign policy on the very real lives of so many people. So many have sacrificed so much in order to build a better life for themselves. One man left his wife and three kids after losing his job. He worked for a company that sold bananas to the United States, but after the US sanctioned Venezuela, the company had to let him go. He couldnt find another job, so decided to take the risk of pursuing a life in the US. He hopes to get a job and eventually make enough money for his family to join him. It is these kinds of stories I am honored to hear every day and feel blessed to hold space for.