Mexico Clamps Down on Migrants From South

by Minerva Canto

The Orange County Register

October 14, 2001

TECUN UMAN, GUATEMALA — For less than a U.S. dollar, anyone can cross the Guatemala- Mexico border illegally. No guards, no checkpoints and no inspections stop those who want to cross the Suchiate River.

All it takes is five quetzales, or 62 cents, to board a makeshift raft of wooden slats and inner tubes steered by one or two men. Some days, the river is shallow enough to walk across to Ciudad Hidalgo in Chiapas.

"They come at all hours. There's always people crossing," said Jose Ruben Hernandez, 43, a former Santa Ana resident who now works at the riverbank helping repair inner tubes.

Most migrants cross with the intention of going on to the United States to work, but many are finding their efforts thwarted these days despite the apparent ease of crossing from Guatemala. Once across, they're discovering that many areas in southern Mexico are teeming with military and immigration agents.

After Sept. 11, the Mexican government dispatched more immigration and military agents to its southern border area as part of its anti- terrorism strategy. The additional staffing boosted a crackdown that began in the summer to better protect the 600-mile border that Mexico shares with Guatemala and Belize against drug traffickers and migrant smugglers.

Since the terrorist attacks in the United States, the Southern Plan has received renewed attention as the United States seeks assurances that Mexico is doing all it can to secure its borders against terrorists who may want to use the country as a launching pad.

"We're doing our job, strongly increasing security at customs checkpoints, especially in our country's southern border, where many, many people enter illegally in search of a job to get to the United States," said President Vicente Fox during his weekly radio address after the terrorist attacks in the United States.

This is the message Fox also imparted during his visit last week to the United States.

But the crackdown worries human-rights activists. They complain that the Southern Plan resembles U.S. border- enforcement programs such as Operation Gatekeeper, which has pushed many undocumented migrants to use perilous routes to get into the United States. These activists note that many migrants contract the services of immigrant smugglers, who pocket fees as high as $4,000 — more than 10 times the average annual pay for a Guatemalan -- to cross the Guatemalan, Mexican and U.S. borders.

"This attempt to control the border doesn't work out the way law- enforcement and government officials say it will. In the end, the migrants, the poorest of the poor, are the ones who lose the most," said the Rev. Ademar Barilli, director of Casa del Migrante, a migrant shelter in this border city. Five years ago, Barilli was stationed at the shelter's Tijuana branch, where he witnessed the effects of Operation Gatekeeper.

PATH TO THE U.S.

For decades, migrants from all over the world have used Mexico as a gateway to the United States. Last year, Mexico deported about 160,000 illegal migrants, most of them from Central America. Of those Central Americans who did make it into the United States, 30,000 were deported.

Felipe de Jesus Preciado, head of Mexico's National Migration Institute, similar to the Immigration and Naturalization Service in the United States, is well aware of the criticism of the Southern Plan but calls it "an orderly way to control the migratory flows."

Mexico's stepped-up enforcement efforts have come at a time when Central America is trying to recover from some of its worst natural disasters, including Hurricane Mitch, earthquakes and a series of droughts. This year, droughts have wiped out 50 to 100 percent of the crops in the hardest-hit areas of El Salvador, Honduras, Guatemala and Nicaragua, affecting nearly 1.4 million people, according to the United Nations' World Food Program.

These are the forces that push people north. It was poverty that prompted Tania Ramirez Guzman, 20, to leave her home in southern Honduras along with five girlfriends. They had grown up together, giggling about crushes on boys and sharing disappointment when they couldn't get jobs at the local factory. When drought made things worse, they set out together in late July to find work in the United States.

"Money is worth nothing in Honduras," Ramirez said. "That's why we decided to leave. The little money that we had would go away quickly before we had even bought enough food to eat. And finding a job was impossible, even in the factories. Even those jobs are hard to get because they are the best jobs, so they go to people with experience."

Ramirez packed a knapsack with dark-colored clothing, a pair of sandals, a comb, some gold jewelry that could be traded for money, and a few other small items. She thought she was ready for what lay ahead, but nothing could have prepared her for what was to come.

After entering Mexico, Ramirez and her friends traveled by foot through the jungles of Chiapas to avoid military roadblocks or immigration checkpoints. They chose a route popular with migrants from Central America and other countries. They found out it's also frequented by bandits who rob, rape, torture and kill migrants passing through the area.

Ramirez said groups of rough-looking men with tattoos chased her and her friends through the jungle. As they ran through the thick, overgrown vegetation, they came upon scenes that made them wonder whether they would make it out alive. Women being raped. Naked women tied to poles. Other migrants being tortured and killed.

"We saw corpses everywhere. Everywhere we turned there was a dead body. Some had fresh blood on them," Ramirez said. "We untied what women we could, but it was all about running."

`i was alone'

Ramirez decided she would not stop for anything. She and her friends had always been close because they were all about the same age and lived so close to each other. They were good friends, maybe even the best of friends that one can ever have. But this was a matter of life or death.

When Ramirez finally got out of the jungle, she was alone. She is unable or unwilling to offer concrete details of exactly how she lost each of her friends. "In the end," she said, "I was alone. God was the only one with me so I knelt and I prayed to God. I asked him for help."

After arriving in Tierra Blanca in Veracruz, Ramirez met a woman who offered to give her food, some clean clothing and a place to sleep for the night. Ramirez was grateful for the help, but then realized the woman ran a brothel and expected Ramirez to work in exchange for the help.

"She wanted to sell me to work in a bar. I told her, `No, I don't like it here. I'm not going to let you sell me. I will die of hunger first before I do that.' But she wouldn't let me go," Ramirez said.

Ramirez escaped through a tiny bathroom window, cutting her leg badly.

Ramirez had had enough of Mexico. She wanted to go home. She turned herself in to an immigration agent and asked to be deported.

Others who have made the journey to the United States know tricks to get past Mexican law-enforcement agents.

Henry Antonio Reyes, 27, avoided the jungle altogether. The Honduras migrant traveled through Mexico openly after brushing up on his knowledge of Mexican culture and history. Questioned at a military checkpoint, he told agents he was Mexican in a carefully practiced "Mexican Spanish." He responded correctly to several questions and sang the last verse of the Mexican anthem before he was allowed to continue. He got as far as Laredo, Texas, before he was picked up and deported. He ended up here in Tecun Uman, where he was working and practicing his Spanish for another attempted trip to the United States.

HAVEN FOR MIGRANTS

Tecun Uman is a small city that bears the telltale signs of many border towns. Along the main dirt road, pay phones cater to migrants lucky enough to have someone to call collect in the United States. Many businesses have English-language names such as "Americana Hollywood."

This is where many migrants end up. Many have been booted from Mexico. Others choose it as a temporary residence where they can save up for another try for the United States.

During the day, dozens of migrants wanting to earn some cash mill about the main park, hoping someone will offer them at least a day's work. At night, those with cash end up at one of the many downtown motels. Those without sleep in the park or under bridges. Some fortunate ones end up at the migrant shelter run by the Rev. Barilli.

"This house is like a glass of water in the desert," said shelter volunteer Amilcar Vasquez.

The shelter sleeps 80 people, but an average of 120 stay each night. Last year, the shelter helped about 9,000 migrants. In the first six months of this year, the shelter had already helped about 6,000, a testament to the increase in immigration.

On a wall at the shelter, a mural depicts the migrants' journey. It shows men and women uprooted from their native towns. The American flag dominates the mural, its red-and-white stripes and white stars beckoning against the bright blue background.

"Stopping migration is like stopping a river," Barilli said. "The need is so great in Central America that migrants will continue to go wherever they need to go to find work."

A couple of miles away at the river, the day's traffic begins in the early morning darkness with migrant workers heading to Chiapas for the day.

It continues with merchants transporting their wares without paying customs fees, and housewives seeking cheaper prices on eggs, chicken and other staples in Mexico.

It ends with laborers returning home before darkness empties out the riverbank. Migrants cross at all hours.

Hector Rolando Hernandez Rodriguez, 24, had planned to return to his home in San Clemente in August but got stuck in Tecun Uman just as the Southern Plan was put into action.

After running out of money, he returned to Honduras.

"I am going to wait," Hernandez said during a phone interview from Honduras. "Maybe the situation will get better, but I hear it's very tough to cross right now. I'm not going to try for a while. I'm just going to monitor the situation."