TRIPS OF TERROR
Several attempts to get across
“Crossings: Untold Stories of Undocumented Migrants” — Chapter 9
Coming to the U.S. was
written into my DNA,”
says Alexander.
His dad left the family in
Honduras to go fi nd work in
Los Angeles, and Alexander
knew from an early age that
someday he’d join his father in
America.
“I really didn’t know my
dad, but occasionally we would
travel to the city in order to
use a telephone to call him because
there were no phones in
our little village.”
When he turned 15, Alexander
left his village and moved
to the city of Tegucigalpa,
where he was able to fi nish his
studies.
“When I graduated I had
problems trying to fi nd work
as an accountant and ended
up working in a printing shop.
I discovered that I was not
the only one in this predicament,”
Alexander remembers.
“Unemployment was rife, and
there were a lot of educated
people who couldn’t fi nd work
in their professions.”
Now, in 2013, at the age of
20, Alexander attempted his
fi rst journey across the border.
“It really wasn’t that diffi -
cult to cross the border at that
time. I found a coyote, paid
$2,000, which was some of the
fee upfront, and had a pretty
easy trip,” he says.
They road buses northbound
until they reached
Reynosa in the northeastern
part of Mexico, which borders
Texas.
The ease of their travels
took a quick turn, when “very
soon arguments erupted between
our coyotes and the next
group of guides who were picking
us up to take us to McAllen
in Southern Texas, across the
border from Reynosa.”
Alexander suspects that
one of the Coyotes got angry
with their side of the deal, and
shopped the group to the police.
“Instead of being taken to
McAllen we were suddenly
surrounded by uniformed
men.”
Alexander and his fellow
would-be border-crossers
ended up staying in a detention
facility in Austin Texas
for 43 days, surrounded by
gang members and other unseemly
characters.
Eventually though, Alexander
was released back to
Honduras — though not without
any more pain.
“Unfortunately, I had lost
the $2,000 fee that I had paid
to the coyotes,” he recalls.
“Normally if your trip falls
through, the coyotes will
honor a few more chances for
you to cross, but this had been
a disreputable group, and they
just ran with our money. “
Alexander went back home,
and continued doing mundane
tasks for little money, not fi nding
the satisfying life he so desired.
In 2018, he gave up hope
that he could fi nd what he
was looking for in Honduras,
and decided to borrow some
money to attempt another border
crossing.
Caribbean Life, N 32 OVEMBER 19-25, 2021
“I reluctantly parted with a
huge fee of $2,000 upfront and
had a second payment of $2,000
due in Reynosa, Mexico,” he
said. “Then, there would be
a fi nal $3,500 payment if we
made it to the U.S. and to our
fi nal destinations”
Nervous about getting
swindled again, Alexander
reluctantly agreed and once
more headed north, with the
promise of two additional free
trips if the fi rst one failed.
“I am astounded at how
much money these coyotes demanded
for their services, yet
when we stopped for the night,
the places we stayed in were
really dirty, noisy shacks instead
of decent hotels. We slept
wherever we could. Don’t expect
to get a bed and a clean
bathroom. You fi nd a space on
the fl oor, and the bathrooms
are fi lthy health hazards.”
Eventually, after long
journeys in buses and on foot
(to maneuver around checkpoints),
they were taken to a
“ little building that had a cellar.”
“There we were kept for
the next month, waiting to
be called for our chance to be
taken across the border. Some
people were taken out faster if
they had paid more money, but
I had to wait longer.”
He remembers feeling anxious
and scared, while physically
uncomfortable in the
cramped rooms.
“When your group is fi -
nally called, you are just glad
to get out of there.”
Alexander’s group crossed
the Rio Grande river in the
middle of the night in a small
black raft. But when they got
across, the real drama began.
Immigration offi cers surrounded
the group as they lay
in the grass, forcing them to
scatter in all different directions,
every woman and man
for themselves. Alexander
jumped into a tall meadow a
short distance away, and laid
them while offi cers rounded
up members of the group.
“I thought my heart was
going to explode—it was beating
so fast. It was banging so
hard within my chest that I
actually worried that the immigration
offi cer might hear
it! I lay motionless in the dirt
for about an hour. Everything
was quiet, and I could feel the
morning sun shining on my
face.”
“Soon the coyote appeared
beside me. He said all the others
had been caught except for
the two of us.”
Now, the much-smaller
group thought they could salvage
their trip, and began traveling
north. They wouldn’t be
so lucky on their next encounter
with ICE.
“We must have looked
so surprised and were too
shocked to react. Next minute,
the immigration offi cers had
caught us, and we were sitting
in the back of their van,”
Alexander remembers. “Just
like that our hopes of crossing
were dashed to pieces, and we
were on the way to a detention
center.”
That September, now back
in Honduras, Alexander
would make his third treacherous
journey. This time, his
group moved more intentionally,
sending one person at a
time up ahead, which lessens
the chance of attracting ICE’s
attention.
Walking through the day
and night, Alexander’s group
fi nally arrived at their meeting
point, where a pickup
truck came and drove them to
Houston, Texas.
They waited there for
weeks, cramped and hungry
in a deshevlied hideout, before
the coyotes agreed to make a
road journey across the country
— fi rst to Atlanta, then
New Jersey, and fi nally onto
New York City.
Eventually, Alexander met
up with his mother, who had
begun a life in New York City,
and she helped her son get on
his feet in his new home.
“I am still settling in. I
have worked a little bit in a
bagel store and in construction.
I had a lot of schooling
and qualifi cations from my
country. I am taking a course
to learn English, and I would
like to enroll in school here to
get the equivalent qualifi cations
that I had gained in Honduras,”
he says. “I am happy
here, and I feel the country is
clean and safe. I’m still getting
used to things, but I want
to work hard and one day be
successful and allowed to live
here on my own merit. I hope
with hard work I will become
part of the American dream
and fi nally have an opportunity
to prove my worth.”
This story is part of
a bi-weekly series containing
edited chapters
of Sharon Hollins’ 2021
book “Crossings: Untold
Stories of Undocumented
Migrants.”