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��enny from El Salvador
still has nightmares
about her traumatic trip
to the United States.
“It was 2008 when my boyfriend
fi rst asked me to marry
him,” Jenny remembers. “I was
eighteen, and he was seventeen,
but he was already a man, living
away from home and earning
a good wage. In our country
we grow up quickly. The
next question he asked was if I
wanted to go to America with
him to start a life there.”
Jenny wasn’t quite ready to
uproot her life and head to the
United States, so her partner
set out by himself to establish
a life in the northern promised
land, and Jenny planned to join
him when she was ready.
“His mother was already in
New York, and she paid for a
coyote to bring him to her. He
had such an easy trip — it had
only taken a little more than a
week,” she said. “He had been
brought from El Salvador to the
U.S. in trucks with a few other
people, and he kept saying how
the trip was easy and even fun.
He found work and didn’t give
up on the idea of having me join
him.”
“We had previously discussed
this possibility. I hadn’t
gone with him earlier that year
when he had left because I was
studying accounting.”
After some thought, Jenny
decided she could no longer be
separated from her soulmate.
“He wrote to my dad asking
permission to marry me, promising
to look after and take good
care of me,” Jenny says. “My
dad was in agreement, as he
felt he was a good person who
would indeed be a good husband
for me.”
“Two coyotes turned up in
a van and drove me to Guatemala.
I was surprised that I was
their only client,” she remembers.
Eventually, the trio arrived
at a small hotel in Guatemala,
where the coyotes put Jenny
in a room with around 15 other
people — and they waited for
the next leg of their treacherous
journey.
“After four days I was put
on a truck with a group of people
from the house,” Jenny
said. “We were driven north
through Guatemala to the border
of Mexico. Inevitably, we
got pulled over by police. The
police asked for our IDs and
gave the driver of the truck a
hard time. The driver seemed
used to this type of situation.
He had spent ages negotiating
with the police. Eventually, after
about two nail-biting hours,
the driver and the police came
to a deal. The police let us pass,
and the driver produced a wad
of money to pay him off.”
When they came to a river,
the coyotes forced the group out
of the truck, and they continued
the next part of their journey on
foot.
After crossing the water, the
group posted up at a run-down
house, which was worse than
the hotel — much to Jenny’s
surprise.
“I woke up in the middle of
the night, as I felt my skin was
crawling. I looked down, and
Caribbean Life, D 28 ecember 17-23, 2021
to my horror it was. I could
see small insects on my arms.
I tried to knock them off and
realized they were stuck to me
drinking my blood. Bedbugs!
I was horrifi ed,” she said. “I
started crying. I wanted to
sleep, but I was disgusted at the
idea of the bedbugs crawling on
me in the dark.”
Making matters worse,
Jenny was the only woman in
the group, and one coyote kept
making advances on her.
“The guide would follow me
around and say to me, ‘Tonight
we can be together. Something
can happen between the two
of us,’” she said. “I was frightened
by this man. I was the only
woman there. He was a dirty,
lecherous creep who made me
feel so uncomfortable. I tried to
avoid him. I wouldn’t even take
a shower, because I was scared
that he might try and follow me
into the bathroom.”
After a while, the coyote told
the group that it was their turn
to go.
“We left very early in the
morning around 4:30 and drove
all day until we got to the outskirts
of Mexico City,” Jenny
recalls. “I actually enjoyed the
ride from Chiapas, and the area
we arrived at was exceptionally
beautiful. The hotel there was a
big improvement from the last
one, and fi nally I managed to
take a shower and washed some
of my clothes.”
Eventually, the group got
to the border of Texas, where
they were forced to wait for an
extended period of time, as ICE
offi cers were crawling around
the area.
“Then, one day it was time
to go. We were dropped off near
the border and had to walk until
we got to the river,” Jenny remembers.
Jenny, who couldn’t swim,
was put in a large infl atable
raft, which the coyotes pulled
across the river, and crammed
the border crossers into a small
car.
“They piled everyone into a
small car: the two men and the
two children from my group
with the three other people
from the other group. It was a
really small car, and they told
me I just wasn’t going to fi t,”
Jenny said. “I was very confused,
the children were crying,
and I still remember their little
faces pressed against the window
as the people were driven
off with the coyotes from McAllen
in the front.”
Once they got into Texas, a
new coyote brought Jenny to
a dollar store, where she could
pick out any clothes and goods
she needed.
“He then took me to a hotel
in McAllen, Texas and dropped
me off. He told me he owned
a house, and he needed to go
home and sort out a few things.
He left and closed the door. It
was great to have a room to myself,
so I took a shower.”
Then, the unthinkable happened.
“There was a huge crash.
The front door was kicked
down, and inburst a lot of men
wearing black masks over their
faces, armed with big guns. I
was standing there with a large
knife cutting mangos, but I
knew I should hide, so I ducked
down behind the counter. I had
moved fast, but I knew they had
seen me.”
After a while, the police
showed up, and everyone scattered.
Jenny’s coyote was killed
during the comotion, and she
was left wondering what her
next move was.
“The manager explained to
me that she had spoken with
new guides who would get me
through to Houston, Texas,
which was where the last checkpoint
would be.”
When they arrived, though,
the sexual advanced persisted,
and Jenny was left praying she
would continue unharmed.
“The driver sat beside me
and kept trying to touch me.
‘Hey, why are you so worried?
I’m a nice guy. You wouldn’t be
disappointed. We could have a
good time.’”
“I later found out that the
guides had called my family
and told them if they didn’t pay
up $3,500 that they would never
see us again,” Jenny said. “Pay
the money, or she will be dead
by the end of the day,’ the guys
had said to my mother-in-law.”
Eventually, Jenny made it
to the last leg of her journey,
where a female coyote helped
connect her with her motherin
law and her fi ancé — giving
Jenny the opportunity to help
her extended family, and build
a better life for herself.
She remains thankful,
though, that she was able to survive
the treacherous journey.
“I am glad that I have been
able to help them, and I am fortunate
that I survived to tell my
tale.”
This story is part of
a bi-weekly series containing
edited chapters
of Sharon Hollins’ 2021
book “Crossings: Untold
Stories of Undocumented
Migrants.”
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