Enrique's Journey (34 page)

How María Isabel reacted to Enrique's departure and her decision to follow him come from María Isabel, her aunt Gloria, and her mother, Eva.

Enrique's medical condition and treatment are from Enrique and Dr. Guillermo Toledo Montes, who treated him. Mayor Díaz provided the doctor's receipt detailing Enrique's treatment. I visited the clinic and the police command post where Enrique slept.

Detailed cases of migrants' injuries at the Arriaga hospital come from my interview with the president of Arriaga's Red Cross first aid responders, Isaac Santelis de los Santos, and hospital social worker Isabel Barragan Torres. I reviewed the hospital files of all injured migrants between 1999 and 2003.

The bus ride to Guatemala is from interviews with Enrique, migrants on the bus, and my observations while riding the bus to El Carmen, Guatemala, where the trip ends. How street gangsters rob riders is from Baltasar Soriano Peraza, the caseworker at the Albergue Belén shelter; the Mexican immigration agent Fernando Armento Juan, who accompanies migrants on the bus; and migrants, including Carlos Sandoval, a Salvadoran, who said he had been accosted by gangsters with ice picks.

3. FACING THE BEAST

The crossing of the Río Suchiate is from interviews with Enrique, other migrants who made the crossing, and my observations as I crossed on a raft. Facing Chiapas, “the beast,” is from Father Flor María Rigoni. The lessons about Chiapas are from Enrique, other migrants, and Father Arturo Francisco Herrera González, a Catholic priest who helps migrants at the Parroquia de San Vicente Ferrer in Juchitán, Oaxaca.

The story of how Enrique slept in the Tapachula cemetery and ran for the train comes from interviews with Enrique and from my observations at the cemetery of the ritual of running for the train. I accompanied the Tapachula municipal police on a dawn raid of the cemetery, did a tour of the cemetery with its caretaker, and visited the crypt where Enrique had slept. To describe Enrique's trip to a Tapachula jail, I accompanied migrants who were captured by police and taken to the same lockup. The train's speed is from Jorge Reinoso, who in 2000 was chief of operations for the Ferrocarriles Chiapas-Mayab railroad, and from Julio César Cancino Gálvez, an officer of Grupo Beta, who is a former Tapachula train crewman. “The train ate him up” comes from Emilio Canteros Mendez, an engineer for Ferrocarriles Chiapas-Mayab, and was confirmed by migrants I met on the trains. The dangers of Chiapas were explained by Father Rigoni.

The description of how a train feels and choosing where to ride and what to carry is from Enrique and from my observations and interviews with migrants while riding on two freight trains through Chiapas. Reinoso provided information about the age and condition of tracks in Chiapas and the frequency of derailments, one of which I witnessed. Train nicknames are from migrants, Grupo Beta officers, and former crewman Julio César Cancino Gálvez.

Tales of avoiding branches and what migrants yell when they see a branch come from Enrique and from my observations on the top of a train when a migrant was knocked off. Julio César Cancino Gálvez and several train conductors explained the various reasons trains sometimes must stop.

The assertion that agents shoot at migrants at the La Arrocera checkpoint comes from C. Faustino Chacón Cruz Cabrera; Hugo Ángeles Cruz, an immigration expert at the Colegio de la Frontera Sur in Tapachula, Mexico; railroad employees who said they had witnessed such shootings, including José Agustín Tamayo Chamorro, chief of operations at Ferrosur railroad, and Emilio Canteros Mendez; and migrants who said agents had fired at them at La Arrocera, including Selvin Terraza Chan, twenty-one, José Alberto Ruiz Méndez, fifteen, and Juan Joel de Jesús Villareal, fifteen. Hernán Bonilla, twenty-seven, showed Enrique and me scars he said came from cigarette burns received from immigration agents in the area.

The
madrinas'
efforts at La Arrocera come from Elba Flores Nuñez, a former coordinator of the Centro de Derechos Humanos Tepeyac del Istmo de Tehuantepec, a rights group; Reyder Cruz Toledo, the police chief in Arriaga, Chiapas; Jorge Zarif Zetuna Curioca, a former mayor of Ixtepec; Mario Campos Gutiérrez; C. Faustino Chacón Cruz Cabrera; and a La Arrocera resident, Guillermina Gálvez López.

The dangers of La Arrocera were detailed by Enrique, other migrants, Grupo Beta officers, and the immigration agent Marco Tulio Carballo Cabrera at the nearby Hueyate immigration station. I observed migrants' anxiety as they approached the checkpoint on two train rides through La Arrocera. Migrants pleading for help when they suffered electric shock is from Guillermina Gálvez López. How migrants hide their money is from migrants I met riding on the trains. Enrique's run around La Arrocera comes from Enrique; Clemente Delporte Gómez, a former Grupo Beta Sur officer; and my observations as I walked around the checkpoint, witnessed two bandit chases, and entered the brick house where women had been raped.

The description of bandits and their activities at La Arrocera is from Julio César Cancino Gálvez, who again accompanied me to the checkpoint in 2003. I obtained additional information about bandits then from local
migra
supervisor Widmar Borrallas López and La Arrocera railside residents Amelia López Gamboa, Jorge Alberto Hernández, Virgilio Mendes Ramírez, María del Carmen Torres García, and three men who feared giving their names. I also took a tour of the bandits' favorite bars in the nearby town of Huixtla.

The strategies for preventing rape were detailed by Grupo Beta officers and Monica Oropeza, executive director of Albergue Juvenil del Desierto, a migrant shelter for minors in Mexicali, Mexico. The 1997 University of Houston study “Potentially Traumatic Events Among Unaccompanied Migrant Children from Central America” details the dangers. The AIDS warning that girls write on their chests is from Olivia Ruiz, a cultural anthropologist at the Colegio de la Frontera Norte in Tijuana, who researches the dangers migrants face riding trains through Chiapas.

The Cuil bridge ambushes were described by Clemente Delporte Gómez and Grupo Beta Sur officer José Alfredo Ruiz Chamec.

The dislike of Central American migrants comes from migrants, professor Hugo Ángeles Cruz, and Tapachula residents, including Miguel Ángel Pérez Hernández, Guillermina Gálvez López, and Juan Pérez. While riding trains through Chiapas, I witnessed Mexican children pelting migrants with rocks.

María Isabel's foiled plan to follow Enrique to the United States comes from María Isabel; her mother, Eva; her aunt Gloria; and Gloria's daughter Gloria Elizabeth Chávez.

The account of heat on the train and how migrants stayed awake is from Enrique. I witnessed migrants doing similar things to stay cool and awake, including Reynaldo Matamorros, who strapped himself to the end of a hopper car to nap; José Rodas Orellana, who took amphetamines; and José Donald Morales Enriques, who did squats. I rode on one train where a chorus broke out at 4
A
.
M
.

How gangsters stalk migrants is from Grupo Beta officers, Baltasar Soriano Peraza, and my observations on the trains. Information about gangsters forcing two boys to have sex together is from José Enrique Oliva Rosa and José Luis Oliva Rosa, fifteen-year-old twins who rode on a train where the incident occurred.

The assertion that the judicial police conducted shakedowns at San Ramón and threatened migrants is from Emilio Canteros Mendez, an engineer on the Ferrocarriles Chiapas-Mayab railroad. Some migrants, including Dennis Iván Contreras, twelve, told me that officers at San Ramón had made similar statements to them. The denial that judicial police engage in such robberies is from Sixto Juárez, chief of the Agencia Federal de Investigación in nearby Arriaga.

For how migrants are devoured by the train, in 2000 I interviewed Carlos Roberto Díaz Osorto in his hospital bed in Arriaga, Chiapas. I later viewed his medical file.

In 2003, I spent two weeks with Olga Sánchez Martínez. I spent time with Olga at her shelter as she dressed migrants' wounds and accompanied her to church, to a prosthesis maker, to sell used clothing, on rounds at the local hospital, on a beach outing with injured migrants, and in her efforts in the middle of the night to find a casket for someone who had just died at her shelter.

To write about Olga, I spoke with migrants living at her Shelter of Jesus the Good Shepherd, including Tránsito Encarnación Martínes Hernández, Fausto Mejillas Guerrero, Leti Isabela Mejía Yanes, Hugo Tambrís Sióp, Edwin Bertotty Baquerano, Juan Carlos Hernández, Francisco Beltrán Domín-guez, Efren Morales Ramírez, Carlos López, Fredy Antonio Ávila, and Mario Castro. I interviewed Olga; her husband, Jordán Matus Vásquez; her friends; and shelter volunteers Marilú Hernández Hernández, Fernando Hernández López, Roldán Mendoza García, and Carmen Aguilar de Mendoza. At the Tapachula general hospital, I interviewed three people who had observed Olga's work: the doctors Jorge Luis Antonio Álvarez and José Luis Solórzano, and a hospital social worker, Margarita Márquez Morán.

I observed Wendy hours after the rape and interviewed several migrants who had been with her when the incident occurred.

Enrique's time in Ixtepec comes from Enrique and my observations as I retraced his steps in Ixtepec.

4. GIFTS AND FAITH

The description of the statue of Christ is from interviews with Enrique and from my observation of other migrants on a train passing the same statue. Information about religious items, Bible readings, and how migrants show their faith is from migrants Marco Antonio Euseda, Oscar Alfredo Molina, and César Gutiérrez. I heard migrant Marlon Sosa Cortez recite the prayer to the Holy Trinity as he rode on top of a train.

The assertion that Oaxacans are friendlier is from interviews with Enrique and other migrants, as well as Jorge Zarif Zetuna Curioca, the former mayor of Ixtepec; Juan Ruiz, the former police chief of Ixtepec; and train engineer Isaías Palacios.

The exchange between food throwers and Enrique comes from Enrique and is similar to words I heard while observing food throwers in various towns and as food throwers in Encinar, Veracruz, threw bananas and crackers onto a train I was riding. In Veracruz, I interviewed food throwers in several villages. At Encinar: Ángela Andrade Cruz; Jesús González Román, his sister Magdalena González Román, and their mother, Esperanza Román González; Mariano Cortés; and Marta Santiago Flores and her son Leovardo. At Fortín de las Flores: Ciro González Ramos, his children Erika and Fabián, and a former neighbor, Leticia Rebolledo. At Cuichapa: Soledad Vásquez and her mother, María Luisa Mora Martín. At Presidio: Ramiro López Contreras and his son Rubén López Juárez. The 2000 World Bank study cited is “The Effect of IMF and World Bank Programs on Poverty.” Rural malnutrition information is from Mexico's 1999 national nutrition survey, conducted by the Instituto Nacional de Salud Pública.

In 2003, I interviewed various Veracruz church members who helped migrants with food, shelter, or protection from the police, including Raquel Flores Lamora, Baltasar Bréniz Ávila, Francisca Aguirre Juárez, and María del Carmen Ortega García.

For the account of the decision to help migrants at the Parroquia María Auxiliadora in Río Blanco, Veracruz, I relied on the priest Salamón Lemus Lemus; the volunteers Luis Hernández Osorio, Gregoria Sánchez Romero, and Leopoldo Francisco Maldonado Gutiérrez; the church cook, Rosa Tlehuactle Anastacio; the church secretary, Irene Rodríguez Rivera; Father Julio César Trujillo Velásquez, the director of media affairs for the Diocese of Orizaba; and Monsignor Hipólito Reyes Larios, the Catholic bishop of Orizaba.

The beating of migrants in El Campesino El Mirador is from María Enriqueta Reyes Márquez, who witnessed the incident, and Samuel Ramírez del Carmen of the Mendoza, Veracruz, Red Cross.

The types of train cargoes and the cost of migrant injuries are from Cuauhtemoc González Flores, chief of accident investigations for the Transportación Ferroviaria Mexicana railroad.

Enrique's robbery at the Córdoba station is from Enrique and from my observations at the shed where it happened. Other migrants gave accounts of similar robberies at Córdoba. The camaraderie with others aboard the train north of Orizaba and preparations for the cold to come are from Enrique and from my observations of other migrants at Orizaba. The description of tunnels is from Enrique and the switchman Juan Carlos Salcedo, and from observations by
Los Angeles Times
photographer Don Bartletti and me as we rode through the tunnels on top of a freight train. Information on the danger of the El Mexicano tunnel is from José Agustín Tamayo Chamorro of the Ferrosur railroad. What migrants yell as they ride through the tunnels and what they do to keep warm are from Enrique, confirmed by my observations.

In 2000, I found the Mexico City culvert where Enrique waited for a train. In 2003, I returned to interview Lechería residents Olivia Rodríguez Morales and Oscar Aereola Peregrino and Lechería station personnel director José Patricio Sánchez Arrellano, who gave me a tour and history of the station. The account of the electrical lines in Mexico City is from Enrique and Cuauhtemoc González Flores of Transportación Ferroviaria Mexicana, and from my observations at the railroad's computer center.

The number of security officers at the San Luis Potosí station is from Marcelo Rodríguez, chief of security at the station for Transportación Ferroviaria Mexicana.

Enrique's stay in San Luis Potosí making bricks comes from Enrique and interviews with brick makers, including Gregorio Ramos, José Morales Portillo, and Juan Pérez. His trip to Matehuala is from Enrique and from my observations during a bus ride on the same route.

The reluctance of truck drivers to give migrants a ride was confirmed by Modesto Reyes Santiago, a truck driver, and Faustina Olivares, owner of the No Que No diner, which is frequented by truckers. I also hitchhiked on a truck between Matehuala and Nuevo Laredo.

5. ON THE BORDER