Carlos, who is middle-aged, fled gang violence in El Salvador with his son six years ago. First they settled in Guatemala, where he and his son lived for some time. He is now trying to reach the US, where he hopes to find better economic opportunities. He has tried unsuccessfully to cross the border twice, and is now in Ciudad Juárez.
“Violence was increasing [in El Salvador] to the point that it was no longer safe for young people, children, or even adults to live in my country. Six years ago I went to Guatemala so that my son could build a life for himself—he was still young. Now he is 23 years old, thank God, and in Guatemala he met a woman who is now his wife. I already have a grandson; my son is already a father.
I decided to emigrate so that I could buy things that I couldn't have in my country. I wanted to emigrate to the United States. I have already been here in Mexico for [months], where I have been working until now. [The smuggler] who was going to pass us through the desert said that the best option was [through] Chihuahua.
The first attempt was before May. I don't remember the date, but we walked for almost 14 days through the desert. He really didn't know [where he was going], we had to guide him by GPS and Google Maps because he didn't have a phone. Anyway, thanks to God, after 14 days we got as far as Texas, to the first little town, but when we arrived the first time we made the mistake of lighting a fire.
We were on a ranch, and we lit the fire because it was cold at night and the owner of the ranch was about 500 meters [about 1,640 feet] up the road. We never imagined that this rancher was going to call immigration, but they arrived at night and took us back to Mexico.
They are sending people back very quickly. They don't even ask why you are actually migrating to the United States. There is hardly any paperwork: they just take your information, your photograph, your fingerprints, put you back in the holding cell and then, after 35 hours, they release you [in Mexico]. They dump you in a place you did not enter from and a bit further away, so it's more complicated. Frankly, it is inhumane treatment.
The second time, I tried again, on May 1. I was in the desert for nine and a half days. As we already knew [the way], it was easier for us, but we felt the fatigue and the dehydration more. This time when they caught us as we arrived at the town of Van Horn, the treatment was very bad.
The border agent or border police treated me very badly and it was really kind of aggressive verbal treatment, very unjust and I think it was also racist. A policeman had a go at me, he said, ‘Why did you come here if you could work there on the other side, what reason did you have? Why did you come to my country?’ I remember him saying, why did you come to my country?. And the other officers made fun of me, so yes, I say that, maybe not all of them, but they have racism in their minds, in their hearts.
They get you out of the holding cells as quickly as possible due to the risk of COVID transmission and also due to the expenses. They catch many people every day, so the cost is a factor, right?"
Maritza: "I do not want to return to my country as it is very corrupt.”