New York Times
By Paulina Villegas and Randal C. Archibold
September 21, 2014
TIERRA
BLANCA, Mexico — Soon after crossing from Guatemala into Mexico last
week, the group of Honduran migrants spotted the police swarming the
freight train known as
“The Beast” that has dangerously but reliably ferried tens of thousands
of people north, clumped atop and hanging off box cars.
So
they walked through bushes and along riverbanks to avoid detection. And
then they walked some more, 10 hours a day for several days, parched
and so starved that they
grabbed what fish they could from the streams and fruit from the trees.
“We
were hungry so we took an orange from the tree, and the owners of the
house behind it started shooting at us,” said José Antonio Alvarado, 22,
resting here, 400 miles
from the Guatemala-Mexico border, while he waited for a train to
depart.
Just
a few months ago, migrants like Mr. Alvarado readily crossed Mexico’s
southern border and hopped on nearby trains heading north. But under
pressure from the United
States and other Central American nations, Mexico in recent weeks has
taken a rare step toward stemming the flow of migrants, sweeping them
off trains, setting up more roadway checkpoints and raiding hotels and
flophouses where they congregate on their journey
north.
Those
actions clearly have not halted migration, and, as Mr. Alvarado’s group
shows, people are still determined to get on the train, if only farther
north.
But
the increasing difficulty of the trek — combined with high
temperatures, the brisk pace of the deportation of Central Americans and
a public-relations campaign that
warns people that no visas await them in the United States — is among
the factors that may explain why fewer migrants are now crossing into
the southwestern United States, with a particular decrease in the number
of children traveling alone or with a relative.
Last
month, 3,141 children traveling without a parent were apprehended at
the United States-Mexico border, a 70 percent decrease from June.
White
House officials, who just a few months ago described the migrant surge
as a crisis and scrambled to find detention space, have been careful not
to declare the problem
resolved, wary of a surprise influx.
But
interviews with migrants, shelter workers and Central American
officials suggest that word has gotten back to the region that the
journey is getting harder and that
migrants might not make it through Mexico. Mexican authorities have
deported more than 38,000 Central Americans this year and now regularly
send busloads and planes of detainees back to their countries.
Mr.
Alvarado’s group, mostly Hondurans fleeing deep poverty and dangerous
criminal gangs, included only one child, an 8-year-old boy traveling
with a man who identified
himself as his father.
People
who work with migrants here in southern Mexico said that the number of
children seeking to cross the border had fallen considerably. But, they
said, additional
immigration routes could open, prompting a new stream.
“They
will just find the blind spots of the immigration officials,” said
Consuelo, a woman who works at a shelter for migrants here in Tierra
Blanca. She declined to give
her full name for fear that the police would harass her for helping the
migrants. She said that as many as 700 Central Americans a month were
passing through in the spring, but that last month the number had
dropped to about 375.
She
and other aid workers said the retreat from the trains in favor of
longer treks by foot would leave the migrants more vulnerable to gangs
as well as to corrupt police
officers and immigration agents. Many of the Central Americans have
arrived with foot injuries.
But
Mexican officials, embarrassed by widely publicized images of trains
overloaded with stowaways, many of them children, promised that “The
Beast” would no longer be
allowed to serve as migrants’ main transport north.
Officials
said that more than 6,000 people had been removed from freight trains
in recent weeks and that in the near future border guards would run
vehicles on the tracks
ahead of the trains to detect people trying to board farther up the
line. The tracks will be renovated to allow the trains to move faster,
which might discourage people from jumping on, and steps will be taken
to prevent people from sabotaging the rails to
slow the trains.
While
thousands of child migrants from Central America have crossed the Rio
Grande to U.S. soil, thousands more don’t make it that far. Many end up
detained or broke in
towns like Reynosa, Mexico.
Humberto
Mayans, the Interior Ministry official directing the southern
border-control effort, told reporters that the moves were taken to
safeguard migrants and reduce
the chaos that ensues when they rush to the tracks. Hundreds have been
maimed in falls from the train, or raped, robbed or killed by criminals
who prey on the passengers.
“It’s
a strategy of respect for human rights and protecting the physical
well-being of the migrants,” Mr. Mayans said in a recent radio
interview. “In no way will they
be allowed to board the freight train.”
It
remains unclear whether Mexico will be able to sustain its efforts at
its southern border; it has carried out similar operations in the past
but not to this extent.
Some
opposition politicians have complained that Mexico is adopting the
hard-line approach of the United States. Government officials respond
that the border strategy
includes visas for temporary workers and visitors from Guatemala, and
plans for similar measures for Salvadorans and Hondurans, as part of a
larger effort to impose order on the flow of migration.
But
as migrants find ways around the country’s new barriers, Mexico may
find itself, like the United States, in a prolonged cat-and-mouse game
with border crossers.
Tierra
Blanca has long been a jumping-off place for migrants, and a dangerous
one. The brutal Zetas crime gang terrorizes the area, often kidnapping
people for ransom
under threat of death and demanding that migrants pay a fee to pass
through the area.
Usually
two trains pass through here daily, and shelter operators say they
still see dozens of migrants aboard despite the crackdown farther south.
So far, there have
been no police raids here.
Last
week, several migrants tried to board a petrochemical train that had
stopped, but they were waved off by train employees. The migrants were
told that the cargo was
too dangerous and that they should wait for the next train that night,
which they did.
“No
matter how difficult it gets, the way north, it is always more
difficult back home,” said Mr. Alvarado, who described a life of no work
and constant gang threats.
“So I will try to get to the other side no matter what.”
The
8-year-old boy, Carlos Alberto Cruz Menjivar, arrived in Tierra Blanca
with Luis Alberto Cruz, who said he was the boy’s father, though they
did not seem close and
it was possible that he was a smuggler portraying himself as a
relative, a common practice.
They
took shelter in a small, dilapidated wooden house owned by an elderly
couple who allow migrants to stay there for 40 pesos a night, about $3.
The rooms are strewn
with garbage and animal waste, but Carlos, carrying a tattered
backpack, kept a cheery disposition.
Mr.
Cruz said he was traveling with Carlos to the border so he could send
him into Texas. Mr. Cruz said he hoped Carlos would eventually reunite
with his mother, who has
been living in New York for five years.
Mr.
Cruz settled under a tree with a dozen or so other migrants, searching
the ground for dropped coins to buy food as night fell, waiting for the
next train.
For more information, go to: www.beverlyhillsimmigrationlaw.com
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