TRIPS OF TERROR
Margarita from Guatemala
“Crossings: Untold Stories of Undocumented Migrants” — Chapter 7
This story is part of a bi-weekly series containing edited chapters of Sharon Hollins’ 2021 book “Crossings: Untold Stories of Undocumented Migrants.”
One of ten siblings, Margarita
grew up in a tiny
one room house in Guatemala.
“Luckily, children have
imaginations that make up for
the lack of toys and other luxuries,”
she says.
Many of the family would go
on to join their parents working
in the fi elds, harvesting crops,
including Margarita, who enjoyed
her time outside of the
classroom, for a time.
“I only had three years of
schooling. As children we were
very happy to not have to attend
school for any longer than that,”
she says. “You don’t realize, until
later, that a lack of education
can hold you back in life.”
Then, Margarita’s life
changed.
“When I was seventeen, I
met a very attractive boy, and
soon the inevitable happened,”
she remembers. “I became
pregnant.”
Looking to build a better
life for herself and her family,
which now included baby Josue,
Margarita took a job working
in a factory in a nearby city —
though that kept her away from
her child.
Now single and looking to
build a family, Margarita met a
man at work.
“I had been working at the
factory for four years when Fernando
asked me out. I had already
noticed him—he was the
cute guy with the big smile and
nice manners. He would always
smile in my direction and make
conversation if we were nearby.
It was nice to have a guy who
treated me with respect, and
after two years we got married
and moved in together.”
Things settled down a bit,
until one day, after her marriage
to Fernando, her new husband
had an idea.
“I felt so happy with my husband,
house and children — until
one day Fernando told me
that things could be better.”
He wanted to move to America.
“He wanted to go to the
United States and fi nd a better
paying job than the factory. He
asked me to go, but my baby
was only eleven months old,
and I didn’t want to risk traveling
with a baby or leave her behind.
I knew I had to stay,” Margarita
says.
“I was devastated the day
Fernando left me to travel north.
I felt completely alone and abandoned
as I waved goodbye.”
They lived apart for a while,
with Fernando constantly urging
her to move to the United
States — dreaming of a life together.
And eventually, Margarita
gave in. She left her infant
daughter to head north, joining
Fernando. But without her
daughter.
“It was a sad day in 2008
when I kissed my infant daughter
goodbye and placed her in
the arms of my mother who
would take care of her,” she
says.
Now, they were heading to
the border.
“There was another person
from my town going on the
trip. He was called Ignacio, and
although we were traveling together,
we didn’t really have
much to say to each other. I felt
very much alone.”
They took the journey with
a coyote, who helps would-be
Caribbean L 24 ife, OCTOBER 22-28, 2021
immigrants get across the border
safely without being caught
by immigration agents.
“I didn’t trust him. He was
covered in tattoos, and the other
coyotes in the group looked
like bad types who would slit
your throat without a second
thought.”
Eventually, they embarked
on the long journey, crowded
in vans and curious about their
next step.
“We were told to get out in a
fi eld and that there would be another
driver along soon to drive
us further,” Margarita remembers.
“We waited and waited in
the fi eld, but no one turned up.”
After a while of frantic backand
forth, involving local farm
owners who tried to run the
travelers off their property, the
group was greeted by a tractor
trailer.
“I couldn’t believe it. At the
back of the tractor trailer was a
small space below the ventilation
system. It was a little area
not designed for human occupation,”
she remembers. “The
air conditioning was running,
and this area was freezing like
an icebox. We had to sit down
on the fl oor near the cooling
system in this small space. The
door was then closed, and the
area went pitch black. A sense
of panic swept over me.”
Hours went by, with the
group struggling to keep warm
in their cold, cramped space.
Two days later we were still
in our hiding place near the
air conditioning system of the
tractor trailer,” Margarita remembers.
“I felt paralyzed both
mentally and physically as the
painful cold bit into me, and I
almost gave up the will to live
because I didn’t know if I could
endure much more.”
Eventually, they were released
from their predicament
— but not into the promised
land. They had to walk.
“The next morning we had
to walk for half a day and cross
a river to where another bus
was waiting for us.”
“We spent several more days
in that bus heading further
north. There were a couple of
stops where the police entered
the bus to check, and the driver
was ready with a bribe of 200
pesos per person to let us pass.”
A series of other buses and
various taxi-like services eventually
got them to the border.
“We were in the desert
near a remote border crossing
where we were met by a policeman
who started questioning
us and searching us for drugs.
He appeared to register us and
then let us go. He told us he
knew where we were going and
wished us luck.”
“To cross into the U.S. we
had to walk all night with just
short breaks. The next day we
continued again, walking under
the hot sun.”
Like many would-be immigrants,
Margarita suffered
from the terrifying temperatures
in the Mexican desert,
with freezing nights and burning
days.
“After fi ve days, my feet were
very sore. I tried to break the
blisters and then had trouble
getting the shoes back onto my
swollen feet. I wondered when
the nightmare would end.”
“We had all fallen asleep on
an elevated hill with the desert
stretching on for miles around
us. I was so dehydrated and exhausted
that when I lay down I
could feel my strength leave me,
and I knew I was dying.“
She powered through,
though, when she arose from
her situation and ran after the
group.
“We thought you were dead,”
her fellow traveler told her.
She wasn’t.
She remembers when she
reconnected with her husband,
but didn’t feel overjoyed, as she
thought she would.
“I remember when I met
him. I felt incredible relief that
my trip was fi nally over, but I
couldn’t feel any joy,” she says.
“When I looked at him I felt he
was the embodiment of all the
suffering to which I had been
subjected.”
Eventually, she found work
— enough to send money back,
and eventually to return herself.
“I worked in America for a
few years and saved money to
send home to my family,” she
says. “My husband has stayed
in New York because we are
trying to pay for our children’s
education. I appreciate his
work ethic and the money he
sends me. I wish he were with
me though.”
REUTERS