February 4, 2020
Sad Realities Along the Border
Finally, we are here in McAllen, the real reason for our trip to Texas this winter. Our idea of coming to the border, instead of traveling to our beloved Guatemala, had been brewing for a while. The separation of children from their parents, used by the federal government as a deterrent to immigration was just plain wrong, and it got us motivated to come to Texas. As a national policy, it should have been considered criminal behavior and as such, taken up by the UN and an international criminal court, IMHO. The rage, the shame as an American citizen, the determination to do SOMETHING to push back, even a small something, became a pretty strong impetus. Bruce and I have worked for the welfare of children all of our lives, in one way or another. This spoke to us in an unusually direct way.
Despite our obviously strong feelings, we weren't seeking an activist role. We just wanted to offer solace to people who have endured trauma in their country of origin, as well as on their journey north, and are looking for a safe haven here in the USA. We also wanted to see firsthand, to witness, what is taking place on the border, where asylum seekers are now required to wait on the Mexican side until they have had an interview with US authorities. We suspected that this exposed them to kidnapping, extortion, and the ever-looming threat of widespread illness.
A Google search brought us to the Humanitarian Respite Center, founded by Sister Norma Pimentel, director of Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley. Its mission is to meet the basic needs of families in crisis by offering food, showers, clothing, shelter, and guidance on their forward journey. Having worked for Catholic Charities earlier in my life, and having watched interviews of Sister Pimentel sharing the story of her work, I felt confident in putting our trust in this agency. We weren't sure what we would be doing - or, honestly, if there would even be much of anything to do, since it was clear that the numbers of immigrants passing through McAllen these days is pretty limited. However, we had been told that the agency tries to send volunteers across the border each day to take supplies to the Latinos waiting in an encampment. We committed to volunteering for two weeks, beginning on January 27. With the time drawing near, we looked forward to this new service-learning opportunity.
Here's a link to Sister Pimentel receiving an award for her work.
https://www.pbs.org/video/sister-norma-pimentel-1pt23q/
As we finish our first week of work at the center, we couldn't be more pleased with our choices. The staff at the HRC are lovely people, welcoming, easy to work with, and kind. As volunteers, we are allowed to set our own schedules and are encouraged to take rest breaks whenever we need. Of course, being high-achieving seniors, eager to convince ourselves of our vitality, we have to be pretty knackered before taking a rest.
In addition, we are enjoying the variety of people who also have chosen to spend a period of time volunteering here. As you would expect, they are kindred spirits - and hail from far and wide. Two couples are from western Massachusetts. A group of 4 nuns, impressive women, hail from Ohio/Kentucky. Small groups from Houston and Austin have come for a few days. A man who has quickly become our role model is a 92 year old doctor from South Dakota. His life stories and words of wisdom are the best!
One of the perks for Bruce and me has been the opportunity to practice our Spanish language skills, since most all of the locals, including the staff, are bi-lingual. I heard that 9 out of 10 residents of the Rio Grande Valley are of Hispanic descent.
We have settled into a routine of working from 9 am until about 1 pm, then walking back to our Airbnb for lunch and a nap before returning to serve supper from 5:30 to 7pm. The HRC, located in the original downtown of McAllen, is a convenient mile away from our rental. We're in a nice neighborhood, and it's a pleasant walk through the "historic" residential part of the city. For the evening stint, we take our rental car, as it's dark when we emerge from the building - and we're tired by then.
One day this week we were privileged to have the chance to cross the border from Brownsville, Texas, into Matamoros, Mexico, with a contingent of volunteers who do this regularly. After having spent days making 100's of ham and cheese sandwiches, packing up scores of diapers and baby wipes, oodles of baggies of dry milk and rice & beans, it was very fulfilling to see where the supplies are going. The process is pretty straightforward: the donations for that day are loaded into 2-3 vehicles owned by volunteers. A collection of collapsible wagons are also taken. On the American side, the vans are parked, the donations are loaded into the wagons, which are then hand-pulled by the volunteers across the short, busy international bridge.
The encampment, just on the other side of the border, stretches out over acres of land. It could be a Boy Scout jamboree except for the cluster of Hispanic kids and adults that begins to appear from all corners when the troop of aging gringos arrives with food and other essentials. It is reported that 2000-2500 people are encamped there.
Tables quickly appeared and were set up under an empty tent. The supplies were set out while an orderly line of recipients materialized immediately, snaking its way far down the road. They waited patiently until the word to begin was given by a veteran volunteer. Then they walked past us, hands held out for whatever we might offer, which was received politely and gratefully. Cups of thick chocolate milk were consumed eagerly. Wipes and diapers disappeared in moments. In fact, the whole operation was completed in 20 minutes. Those who had been the first to line up were the lucky ones. Many, many others were left empty-handed. I don't know how they survive. This one agency surely cannot feed the numbers that are living there - and shouldn't be expected to. We saw one man loaded down with sticks that he had foraged in preparation for building a cook fire. We heard that the migrants are now cooking their own beans and rice. As we were leaving, I spoke with a woman from Nicaragua who said she had been there for five months, waiting. Hope must be what sustains them.
Almost as soon as the operation began, it was over. We took down the tables and began our short return trek with now empty wagons. Out on the street, I asked a young man if the migrants are safe here from drug lords. He assured me that they are not, before entering the camp himself. While we did not linger at all in Matamoros, we ourselves felt safe, surrounded by police and customs officials and knowledgeable volunteers.
Before leaving Brownsville, our driver took us to a place where we could see the border wall up close. Barbed wire has been added, and we hear that it is being made higher. Daunting.
This ministry across the border has become a major part of what the HRC is doing. While those who are allowed into the US continue to be offered shelter and three meals a day and showers and clothing and support for their onward journey, they are just a trickle compared to the thousands waiting. Those who do get across are most likely to be Africans. My understanding is that only the Latinos are required to wait outside the country. The HRC seeks to find churches, etc. which will sponsor those immigrants who don't have family or friends to receive them. This can take time. There have been a few families waiting in the center for the whole week, and longer, that we've been there.
For more information on the drastic reduction in the number of US refugees now allowed admission, please see the following link: *https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/overview-us-refugee-law-and-policy
Our week has flown by. Much of our work is the mundane stuff of daily life. Bruce helped to unclog a toilet and replace a special incandescent light bulb, among other things, in between peeling garlic cloves and washing pots and pans. My jobs have included sorting piles of clothing donations and helping to find appropriate clothes for those who are going to such diverse destinations as Miami and Boston. Once in a while we have the joy of holding a tiny tot or conversing with people poised to begin a new life.
Although the work of the center does not stop for weekends, we decided to take a break. Over the weekend, we saw a little bit of the McAllen area and hosted one of the volunteer couples to watch the Super Bowl. This is now our second and final week. We are learning a lot, in bits and pieces, about how the immigration process works - or doesn't. We are seeing an important aspect of our national life and helping in our own very small way.
I'm sure there'll be more to share as our time here concludes. Stay tuned.
Thanks for your interest!
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