On October 30, 2018, I heard that a caravan of fellow citizens from El Salvador was gathering at the Plaza Divino Salvador del Mundo and planning to leave the following morning for the United States. Over thirty-five years ago, I had done the same. My heart, the heart of a refugee and immigrant, understood what they were doing. That evening, I visited the public square to share a cup of coffee with them, some pan dulce, a word of encouragement … The hundreds of Salvadorans who had arrived were willing to undertake the long and dangerous walk of over 2,500 miles (4,000 km) to reach the Tijuana border to the United States. They were willing to risk their lives and those of their children.
“We prefer to die trying than to die of hunger here, or have the gangs kill us,” said one woman. Most of the people were from the countryside. Those who brought luggage had a small bag, a sweater or jacket, and the hope of making it to the United States — to the North. They also hoped that, once there, the reasons that had forced them to flee El Salvador would be heard and judged sufficient to allow them to remain as refugees and rebuild their lives. The immigrants carried with them the hope of meeting generous people along the way. Fortunately, they did. In Mexico and Guatemala, people offered them shelter and humanitarian support to allow them to continue their long walk north.
I ask myself what people like Misael Martínez, his family and the thousands of Central American immigrants are doing in Tijuana. Despite the great obstacles to enter the United States, some of them must have kept going. Others must have found work while they wait for their requests for refugee status to be resolved. Others must be tired of all the uncertainty and not know what to do: whether to continue waiting in Tijuana, and make it to the North one day, or to return to their countries. I wonder what Misael is planning to do …
I’ve written this text in my eagerness to share the voices of hope, of anguish, of the thousands of immigrants from Central America who abandon our countries because of all the violence and the lack of opportunities. In their midst, I saw people who were hard workers, humble, desperate and tired of suffering.
Jorge Argueta