The Other Side

 THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2023

 This is the day we walk through the desert to the wall. I'm guessing, but in our group of 18 women three are probably under 40. The rest of us are 50's, 60's or 70's.  We run the gamut on physical fitness. Some have done a lot of traveling. Others not so much. But we are all extremely invested in the trip. We load up in our vans and go to a local substance abuse rehab center to join our 5 guides for the day. So, now we are a bevy of mostly seniors led by non-English speaking recovering drug addicts, driving 5 miles into the desert to walk two miles in 90 degree heat. The level of discomfort is palpable.

We have been informed that if we don't think we want to do the two mile hike, we can stay in the shade of a giant nut tree (don't know the name, but the nuts are similar to an almond) located on a private ranch that allows the rehab center to bring groups such as ours for this desert experience. Under it was a 50 gallon water barrel maintained to provide water for migrants passing through.  We got out of the vehicles and made introductions.  An English- speaking volunteer explains what's ahead and that we will be fed at the tree upon our return. About 4 people stay behind with the women who will be cooking lunch on site.

So we set out.

I looked at the wall in the distance- stretching for miles east and west as we head north toward the U.S. You'll know if you've walked in the desert that the heat is not your only hazard.  The landscape is unforgiving.  All of the plants are covered in thorns- ocotillo, prickly pear, cholla, barrel and other cacti; scrubby mesquite and creosote bushes, small brambles, wild grasses and other unfriendly plants are scattered across the path.  We are on the lookout for snakes and biting insects.  And although it's mid-October,  the sun is pounding down on us. 
The terrain is uneven. We have to navigate arroyos (dry washes that range from a foot deep to at least 6 feet.  

I haven't been properly hydrated since we got to Tucson. Even before heading out today, I can't get enough water.  Now it's, of course, worse.  We are all slathered in sunscreen, are wearing good shoes, hats and long sleeved shirts. It's so hot. But we all trudge along.  
We come to a shaded arroyo and the tall guide called Adrian stops at a migrant "camp".  Nestled in a bush is a very tall aluminum ladder. It has various ropes attached and as he pulls it out to show it to us, he also finds knee pads.  Through pantomime he tells us that the ladder is used to scale the wall. They wear the knee pads to crawl on the other side to avoid cameras.  The ropes are used to release the ladder back down to the ground.   

We move on. One of the Spanish speakers in our group stays with Adrian and over the course of the next hour or so, gets his story.  He was recruited by the cartel at the age of 13 and trained to be a sniper.  He lived that life for a number of years, but eventually turned to drugs and was kicked out.  He is now a part of this small community that support one another to kick their habits.  Another of the three men named Jose was deaf and non-verbal. He communicated with his eyes and stayed with any stragglers to make sure no one dropped behind.  

A little further on, I noticed a handmade type of shoe with a cloth top and a piece of carpet for a sole. Later, when we came to the wall, Adrian had the other one and through one of our interpreters, we learned these "carpet shoes" were worn so that agents could not tell which way smugglers were headed. 

Now we were at the wall.  Looking up the 30 foot expanse framed by coils of concertina wire along the top on the other side.  They had led us to a sandy place that had washed out in the rain, leaving a human sized gap through which you could easily crawl through (a couple of us did just that).  Adrian then removed his shoes and shimmied up the iron slats that comprise the wall.  All that money and getting through can be as easy as either of those escapes. 

So, we take pictures and head back.  Trudging through the sand in arroyos is getting harder and harder. Our group gets spread out more and more. Led by Adrian, about half keep up the pace, but a few start to fall behind.  And our two other guides stay back. Lending a shoulder to lean on. Encouraging rest and hydration. Offering care to these strangers in a strange land. 

When we got back to the "Tree of Life", as it was called, lunch was waiting for us.  As we ate, we checked in on each other, shared our experiences and rested.  

After sharing a meal with our kindly guides, we drove the approximate 5 miles back to the main road, very grateful we didn't have to hike 7 miles to the wall for our little "exercise".  We thanked our new friends and headed back into Agua Prieta.  Had we been migrants dropped off by coyotes, the seven mile walk would only be the tip of the iceberg.  If no one was there to pick you up on the other side, it would be a one week walk to Tucson.  You don't walk across the desert on a lark.  You have to be desperate. 

We had dinner and finished the day at the CAME, a migrant center in Agua Prieta, completely operated by volunteers.  Founded by a Catholic Church in 2000, it housed 16 men awaiting appointments at the Border to claim amnesty.  They housed 41 women who couldn't find a shelter to accept them during the caravans between 2018-2019. It can now house up to 80 people. We dined and talked to several migrants, hearing their stories and learning about their dreams for a life away from threats and violence in their home countries of El Salvador and other Central American countries. It's a place of refuge as long as it takes to get their hearings. "We feed their stomachs," the director Perla said, "but also their hearts and minds." 

As for us, at the end of the day our hearts and minds were full of memories that will stay with us forever.