Road Trip

I was feeling antsy, in need of a change of my surroundings... so I decided to take a road trip. Granted, it was 1:30 in the morning, but I figured it would be perfect time to leave since the a/c in my truck has conveniently decided to stop working.

So I made it to Yuma at like 4am... spent some time there and made my way back in the daylight.

I was drving on the 8, which runs parallel to the Mexican border. At one point it was 40 miles of desert... absolutely nothing out there. To my left there was a barrier, more symbolic than functional, that established the border. Makes sense, since it is easy to assume that people just don't cross in this area, surrounded by miles and miles of sand dunes and desolation.

But they do. And they die.

About 30 feet away from the freeway, on the US side, I couldn't help but notice white crosses here and there, marking the spot where hopes of a better life have ended. Terribly.

I traveled north on the 115 through a tiny town called Holtville.. After asking around I managed to locate an old cemetery out in the middle of an agricultural area. After passing graves from the 30's and 40's, I made my way back to an area that could easily be missed.
Here were all the people that had died in the desert, trying to make it to the US, who could not be identified. John and Jane Does.





I couldn't help but cry. "This is it?" I thought. Here are people's brothers and sisters, someone's uncle or aunt, mothers and fathers.... all of them trying to find a better life, risking everything in order to help the rest of the family who is undoubtedly struggling. This act of desperation, crossing such a distance over unforgiving terrain... and this is it? They left home and were never heard from again. No one has seen them. And even after accepting the fact that they have died during their journey... there is no grave to visit, no certainty of their final resting place.

Argue all you want about the immigration issue... it's a tough one. There really isn't a solution. Migration is something that will never cease. But what is happening now is that people are not able to get through in urban areas; the fierce enforcement of the border in Tijuana and Mexicali is forcing people to try to get through the desert.

Most people that are crossing are not criminals. The "criminals and terrorists" that we hear about are already here in the US... or at least their connections are. They aren't risking their lives crossing a desert in order to live a life of crime.

These are people that would swim through sewage water, hide in trees all day to escape deportation or a rancher shooting at them, would drink contaminated water, not eat for days... keep going after being robbed.. and would try again after being deported. All this... for the privilege of washing dishes for $6 an hour?

These people have died because they weren't fortunate enough to be winners in the geographical lottery. They were born too far south.

But they made it. And their journey ends right here.