It's very windy here in Denver. Tonight, Tyler, Kyle and I (John) are planning to go up to the Boulder area and spend time hanging out and I'm not sure what else. Fun times. It's been great to have a time to rest and relax here at Tyler's house, especially after such a heavy experience as the delegation. I've noticed though how hard it is for me to really rest and reflect, even in such a conducive environment. I really have to be intentional about it, which I think reflects a larger struggle in American culture especially. But anyway, that's beside the point. Here are some of my (admittedly delayed) personal and spiritual reflections about the borderlands delegation we recently returned from.
First off, I realize much more clearly now that the immigration reform bill currently being debated has major problems - as building a bigger wall and increasing the militarization of the border will not stop crossings and more people will die and etc. In earlier blogs, Kyle outlined some of the deeper issues, including NAFTA, corruption in the Mexican government leading to dirt-cheap wages for labor in Mexico, etc. The immigration reform bill seeks to treat the symptoms and does little to address deeper underlying root causes. But throughout the trip I was also faced with questions about the deepest root causes. Thinking about the border wall reminded me of the deeper problems which underlie such a divisive structure and in a very real sense thrust into view the limits of our delegation and other like-minded efforts. In an important sense, all social/governmental reform, symbolic action, protesting, etc. treats symptoms and stops short of dealing with the most foundational issues at the level of human hearts. Social justice, human rights, economic equality (or at least survivability) are all incredibly important, but they cannot become the end-all purposes or final goals. If we do not become the kinds of people for whom peace and rightness are truly possible, little will ultimately change. This quote from Alexsandr Solzhenitsyn encapsulates well some of my thoughts relating to the wall (and for that matter, border patrol agents, ourselves, etc.):
"If only there were evil people somewhere insidiously committing evil deeds, and it were necessary only to separate them from the rest of us and destroy them. But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"
Also, I definitely came into this delegation drained and there (understandably) wasn't much down-time on the trip, so at times it was hard to be fully present. I think being slightly withdrawn or putting up a defensive wall of sorts within myself also helped prevent the impact of people's suffering from throwing me into at least partial social nihilism or at least despair. For every family re-united, another is split apart. For every life saved from heat exhaustion in the desert, another succumbs to it. And on the cycle goes. However, I recognize that any sort of nihilism or despair is not a right option, especially if I claim to be a follower of Christ. Nonetheless, it still loomed rather large at times and I think is a danger whenever one is tired - physically, emotionally, spiritually - and also tired of seeing so much wrong in the world and in individual people's lives (including one's own). So, I have been realizing (or trying to) that hope must come from a source that does not begin and end only in this broken world. The frustrating, oft-cliched, and in some situations, entirely unhelpful paradox of Christian hope is that one day things will somehow be restored and made right in spite of the apparent hopelessness; and that because of Christ, God cannot be accused of sitting up in the sky pointing and laughing at humanity's woes - He is involved. Of course, this isn't a lot of comfort to people actually in despair and it's ridiculously easy and even trite to spout off about such nice "Christian" sentiments - but I don't know if there are a lot of other options.
Another thought I had was about the response for followers of Christ to such difficult conditions and situations. While I think a Christian's final hope has to be future-oriented to some degree, one also must not withdraw from the present pain and grime of this world. To do so would be the worst kind of social Gnosticism. One of the biggest problems I have with "Left Behind" eschatology is that practically, I think it encourages (even subtly) an escape mentality. "I'll fly away...," but what about others? Furthermore, there is a related train of thought which detachs the human soul from the whole human person. Christians must have a holistic perspective that recognizes the need for the whole human person to be redeemed. No Platonic dualism allowed. The Incarnation of Christ invites an equally incarnational response from His followers.
A different, but similar question I have also been thinking about a great deal during and after this trip (esp. after meeting several people on the delegation and being challenged by how they lived practically) is how far should we go to extricate ourselves from systems of structual violence that persist all around us - esp. as people with wealth/privilege? To what degree do we attempt to have no part with those systems and rid ourselves of our complicity (which extends into what we eat, what we buy, what we drive, etc.) and when do we throw up our hands and just "live with how things are?" To what level is it possible to "be a good steward" of resources and even use aspects of these broken systems for the good of others and the Kingdom of God and when does that kind of thinking devolve into an excuse to keep living our lives of comfortable apathy and ignorance? I fear the latter is too often the case. However, I also recognize that we cannot completely escape this "fallen" world, that money/possessions are not evil in and of themselves and that as Paul says, "If If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing" (1 Cor. 13 - ESV). Again, deeper, darker problems plague rich and poor alike. I will likely wrestle with these questions for quite some time.
Some last reflections I had on the delegation involve what struck me about those whom we met. Two things in particular really stood out to me - resiliency and family. Resiliency because many people we met had stories about jumping/riding on trains, jumping fences, facing armed bandits and enduring incredible hardship and exhaustion in efforts to get further North. There are no categories for that in my comfortable life (although, that is not to say that I should wish to have to face such dangers or that my own struggles are somehow unimportant or insignificant - you can't quantify suffering). Also, I was amazed in many instances of the importance of family for people south of the border. Nearly everyone was going up north so they could support their families or open up a window of hope for their children. Some people we had met had earlier been in the U.S., but had traveled back to see their families again. These were all incredible sacrifices. The new immigration reform package's "point system" and lack of emphasis on family re-unification is possibly one of the worst aspects of a deeply flawed piece of legislation in my opinion, as family is so incredibly important for so many who are attempting to come north.
Anyway, those are some thoughts I've had during and after the delegation. It was definitely an intense and challenging experience on many levels for me and I know I will continue processing it for some time (hopefully the rest of my life, to some degree).
Many thanks for everyone's prayers and interest.
Blessings,
John Williamson
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Mas Reflejos
That is, more reflections. But first, an update. Yesterday, John and I (Kyle) pretty much vegetated all day and finished season 1 of Arrested Development, which is like visual crack (in terms of addictiveness). Last night we met up with one of Tyler's friends and Alec Olschner and went ourselves to a Colorado Rockies game. And you know, it was fun. $4 is a great price for pro baseball game, although we ended up wandering around and finding better seats that were lower on account of the wind. So I say that I truly appreciate a community event like a baseball game. And I think I'll try and get to a game by our local AAA team back in Lynden. You should, too. Bring some friends and family.
Now, down to business. This morning I woke up thinking about school and how it relates to this delegation. One of the things that struck me most about going to graduation was just how much there seemed to be a theme of peace and justice running throughout the whole event. I recall students being charged to do justice something like three times, and I remember seeking peace being said as well. I can't say I'm that surprised to hear that, especially from the people who I recall saying them, but it did kind take me aback when I thought about it. In a positive way, of course.
But as much as I hear it talked about from administrators and faculty, it's not in a unified voice. It seems like there's a lot of people doing a lot of different things (some big and some small), yet they lack an insitutional synthesis.
It's interesting, the more I give this thought, the more I realized my frustration is a tad misplaced. I think the question that provoked this was one of finding meaning life and work. IT all relates to the question of vocation that I have in fact been presented numerous times in my two years at Whitworth. How indeed do you live a life with meaning? What gives your life meaning?
Last night, watching Arrested Development, one of the characters was on his way to the mall, and he made the comment, "I could buy a new pair of shoes, maybe that will make me feel better!"
LIES.
That may be a little melodramatic, but I know you don't find fulfillment in possessions. If you haven't caught on yet, I despise materialism (even though I struggle with it constantly). I think my reaction here comes from being surrounded by a culture that is driven by material gain and feeling like it has an inescapable chokehold on me.
You know what else? Stewardship (of the earth) is hard in this culture. Last night, we had some Chipotle's for dinner. On the way out, I looked at the (disposable) paper cup I had. If I hadn't taken a straw and top for it, I could have saved some plastic from being used. For that matter, I could have brought my nalgene to put water in instead of using a cup that I would throw away anyway. The point is, our culture is not set up to be sustainable or even to be a good steward of the earth. And that, to me, shows the grip of the kingdom of darkness.
I realize little to nothing of this has to do with immigration, but alas, the thoughts do come out of the experience itself.
Now, down to business. This morning I woke up thinking about school and how it relates to this delegation. One of the things that struck me most about going to graduation was just how much there seemed to be a theme of peace and justice running throughout the whole event. I recall students being charged to do justice something like three times, and I remember seeking peace being said as well. I can't say I'm that surprised to hear that, especially from the people who I recall saying them, but it did kind take me aback when I thought about it. In a positive way, of course.
But as much as I hear it talked about from administrators and faculty, it's not in a unified voice. It seems like there's a lot of people doing a lot of different things (some big and some small), yet they lack an insitutional synthesis.
It's interesting, the more I give this thought, the more I realized my frustration is a tad misplaced. I think the question that provoked this was one of finding meaning life and work. IT all relates to the question of vocation that I have in fact been presented numerous times in my two years at Whitworth. How indeed do you live a life with meaning? What gives your life meaning?
Last night, watching Arrested Development, one of the characters was on his way to the mall, and he made the comment, "I could buy a new pair of shoes, maybe that will make me feel better!"
LIES.
That may be a little melodramatic, but I know you don't find fulfillment in possessions. If you haven't caught on yet, I despise materialism (even though I struggle with it constantly). I think my reaction here comes from being surrounded by a culture that is driven by material gain and feeling like it has an inescapable chokehold on me.
You know what else? Stewardship (of the earth) is hard in this culture. Last night, we had some Chipotle's for dinner. On the way out, I looked at the (disposable) paper cup I had. If I hadn't taken a straw and top for it, I could have saved some plastic from being used. For that matter, I could have brought my nalgene to put water in instead of using a cup that I would throw away anyway. The point is, our culture is not set up to be sustainable or even to be a good steward of the earth. And that, to me, shows the grip of the kingdom of darkness.
I realize little to nothing of this has to do with immigration, but alas, the thoughts do come out of the experience itself.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Reflections, in Denver
Hello everyone, this is Kyle yet again. We arrived this morning back in Denver. We left Tucson Sunday night and stayed the night in the Phoenix area at John's grandparents' house. We spent the morning with them, and then Tyler and I went to see my uncle and aunt who lived nearby and we also went to the Food for the Hungry headquarters (this is the organization I might be headed to Uganda & Rwanda with fall semester). Then we hustled up to the Grand Canyon and watched the sunset there. (I might add that the terrain around Flagstaff, AZ looks surprisingly like Spokane.) Then we got in the car and made our way north through the night with a couple stops thrown in.
So now I'm sitting here, comfortable, trying to switch myself into vacation mode for the week. This is a lesson the three of us have learned: you NEED a rest after a semester at school, if only a short one. Going from school, finals, packing, etc. straight into the trip was quite fatiguing. That's not to say it was bad in any way, just not ideal. But then, I can't honestly think of ideal circumstances for seeing the things we did.
Now, if you'll bear with me, I need to vent a little.
My view of Mexico has changed substantially. I've only been there once, and that was for the standard mission trip to Mexico that it seems like every young American Christian must do (albeit to Guadalajara instead of Tijuana, and we didn't really build anything). We went, and met poor people, helped drug addicts, presented the gospel in prisons, and all around just had a very nice spiritual time. But we never asked why people were addicted to drugs, or why people were chronically poor in ways that made them turn to robbery that would land them in prison. I guess we all just assumed that's the way it was in poor countries and then massaged our consciences by knowing that we had done so much to help these poor, joyful people and they've given so much back to us. You know, "they have so little and are so joyful, oh how admirable."
Insofar as I know, none of us came back and sold everything we had to claim that sort of joy and faith we perceived. No, we satisfied ourselves to be "stewards" of great resources and then went and drove around in our SUVs and bought our $4 coffees and worshipped in our $1 million churches and so on.
Please don't take any of this personally. I'm just really angry (at myself and my own life, in way ways). And I know it's somewhat cliche, but I'm just trying to let off some steam. And there are plenty of counter-critiques; I make no pretenses at this being particularly logical.
It's so much easier to call myself a steward, because that justifies my having a laptop, email address, bank account, etc. I have to use them to be a good steward, you know? As for SUVs, there is little doubt in my mind that Jesus would not have been a patron of our gas-guzzling monsters. For that matter, the one time I can think of off the top of my head when he was riding anything (when he entered Jerusalem on a donkey), he was crying the whole time (I know, that's a totally irresponsible way to interpret his reason for crying, but it's kind of funny). And coffee? Jesus probably had coffee back in the day. But nowadays, he'd probably ask the question of where it came from and if the people growing and picking it were making enough to survive. And $1 million churches? We met an evangelical pastor in Naco who is building his church building with his own hands, from scratch, with the help of his 15 year old son and congregation.
Anyway, my real frustration is that we always went and had pity and compassion on these poor underprivileged people, but we never asked why that was alright with us. What were the underlying causes? In a globalized economy, we are far more connected than any of us grasp, and the violence that goes into production and transfer of goods is far more prevalent than you want to think. I realized on this delegation that we are much farther from the kingdom of God than I had ever thought. The kingdom of darkness has an inescapable chokehold on almost every aspect of this world, it seems.
Let me specify this a bit. Back under President Clinton, we formed something called the North American Free Trade Agreement. (The Central America Free Trade Agreement has similar effects.) I'm going to horribly underrepresent this because I am still learning about it myself. As always, the wikipedia article is good starting point. In a nutshell, NAFTA allows companies in the US, Canada, and Mexico to transfer raw materials and manufactured goods across their borders without tariffs, etc. Two problems that have come of this:
1. Many manufacturers saw the opportunity to exploit the much cheaper labor (and the absence of effective non-governmental unions) of Mexico, so they picked up and moved. This left workers in the US (and Canada) without work (which, under the protection of strong unions, had generally provided a living wage). Mexico's unions (at least for those factories that were established directly after NAFTA) are government-sponsored, riddled with corruption, and basically just in bed with the manufacturers. They make a mockery of standing up for workers' rights and safety. These factories (known as maquiladoras in the border region) pay on a system of bonuses. Essentially, if you miss a day's work, you lose out on production and attendance bonuses, which account for up to 2/3 of your pay. When you're only taking home about $65 a week, that's a huge loss. (On a side note, Northern Mexico is known for having a better economic well-being than much of the rest of the country; so imagine what everyone else is making.) So who's making the buck? Investors, CEOs, big people, I don't know.
2. Because the US has such a huge farming industry with enormous operations working to maximize efficiency in agriculture, the small farmer in Mexico and Central America can't afford anymore to make a living off agriculture. I met one of these farmers, his name was Miguel, and he was from El Salvador. He grows tomatos, cucumbers, and lettuce back home, but can barely make enough to feed his family, much less try to attain any sort of higher living standard. He and his wife tried to cross twice already into the US, but decided that instead they would return to El Salvador (and a wage of maybe $35 a week). They're now working in the grape fields outside Altar to save up for a bus ticket home.
So why should it surprise anyone that hundreds of thousands of people every year are fleeing north to the US? Even working in low-wage, low-skill jobs, you can make more money in a day than you can in a week back home. Let me balance this by saying that you won't hear many migrants say they want to come to the US (let's not kid ourselves, eh?). There is a very prevalent desire to go, make enough money, return and be able to start or engage in some sort of small business in the home country. Likewise, let me also balance this by saying that it's not all the US's fault. Mexico and Central America have notoriously corrupt governments, which helps nothing. In fact, Mexico's Federal Police are known as being the most exploitative of Central Americans coming through the country. I heard one story where one of these policemen was inspecting a Central American's papers, found them in order, ripped them up in front of the person, and then asked where their papers were. That's ridiculous and totally unacceptable. My point is, the corruption runs deep.
So let me see if I can bring this full circle. I'm pissed that when I went to Mexico on my conscience-massaging mission trip none of us had the attitude that it's not alright for poverty to be so prevalent when we are so affluent ourselves. Someone on our delegation pointed out that there are so many believers of Jesus in this country, but so few followers. I can believe in and pray to Jesus, but there is clearly far more to it than that. The gospel has to actually affect the way I live my life, and that means more than not having sex before marriage. Anyway, I'm hungry and accursedly rich by the world's standards. On that note, I'm going to head to lunch and recommend everyone read Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger by Ron Sider. He gives a great evangelical commentary on all these issues and reading it ought to change or at least affect your life in some way. Love,
Kyle
So now I'm sitting here, comfortable, trying to switch myself into vacation mode for the week. This is a lesson the three of us have learned: you NEED a rest after a semester at school, if only a short one. Going from school, finals, packing, etc. straight into the trip was quite fatiguing. That's not to say it was bad in any way, just not ideal. But then, I can't honestly think of ideal circumstances for seeing the things we did.
Now, if you'll bear with me, I need to vent a little.
My view of Mexico has changed substantially. I've only been there once, and that was for the standard mission trip to Mexico that it seems like every young American Christian must do (albeit to Guadalajara instead of Tijuana, and we didn't really build anything). We went, and met poor people, helped drug addicts, presented the gospel in prisons, and all around just had a very nice spiritual time. But we never asked why people were addicted to drugs, or why people were chronically poor in ways that made them turn to robbery that would land them in prison. I guess we all just assumed that's the way it was in poor countries and then massaged our consciences by knowing that we had done so much to help these poor, joyful people and they've given so much back to us. You know, "they have so little and are so joyful, oh how admirable."
Insofar as I know, none of us came back and sold everything we had to claim that sort of joy and faith we perceived. No, we satisfied ourselves to be "stewards" of great resources and then went and drove around in our SUVs and bought our $4 coffees and worshipped in our $1 million churches and so on.
Please don't take any of this personally. I'm just really angry (at myself and my own life, in way ways). And I know it's somewhat cliche, but I'm just trying to let off some steam. And there are plenty of counter-critiques; I make no pretenses at this being particularly logical.
It's so much easier to call myself a steward, because that justifies my having a laptop, email address, bank account, etc. I have to use them to be a good steward, you know? As for SUVs, there is little doubt in my mind that Jesus would not have been a patron of our gas-guzzling monsters. For that matter, the one time I can think of off the top of my head when he was riding anything (when he entered Jerusalem on a donkey), he was crying the whole time (I know, that's a totally irresponsible way to interpret his reason for crying, but it's kind of funny). And coffee? Jesus probably had coffee back in the day. But nowadays, he'd probably ask the question of where it came from and if the people growing and picking it were making enough to survive. And $1 million churches? We met an evangelical pastor in Naco who is building his church building with his own hands, from scratch, with the help of his 15 year old son and congregation.
Anyway, my real frustration is that we always went and had pity and compassion on these poor underprivileged people, but we never asked why that was alright with us. What were the underlying causes? In a globalized economy, we are far more connected than any of us grasp, and the violence that goes into production and transfer of goods is far more prevalent than you want to think. I realized on this delegation that we are much farther from the kingdom of God than I had ever thought. The kingdom of darkness has an inescapable chokehold on almost every aspect of this world, it seems.
Let me specify this a bit. Back under President Clinton, we formed something called the North American Free Trade Agreement. (The Central America Free Trade Agreement has similar effects.) I'm going to horribly underrepresent this because I am still learning about it myself. As always, the wikipedia article is good starting point. In a nutshell, NAFTA allows companies in the US, Canada, and Mexico to transfer raw materials and manufactured goods across their borders without tariffs, etc. Two problems that have come of this:
1. Many manufacturers saw the opportunity to exploit the much cheaper labor (and the absence of effective non-governmental unions) of Mexico, so they picked up and moved. This left workers in the US (and Canada) without work (which, under the protection of strong unions, had generally provided a living wage). Mexico's unions (at least for those factories that were established directly after NAFTA) are government-sponsored, riddled with corruption, and basically just in bed with the manufacturers. They make a mockery of standing up for workers' rights and safety. These factories (known as maquiladoras in the border region) pay on a system of bonuses. Essentially, if you miss a day's work, you lose out on production and attendance bonuses, which account for up to 2/3 of your pay. When you're only taking home about $65 a week, that's a huge loss. (On a side note, Northern Mexico is known for having a better economic well-being than much of the rest of the country; so imagine what everyone else is making.) So who's making the buck? Investors, CEOs, big people, I don't know.
2. Because the US has such a huge farming industry with enormous operations working to maximize efficiency in agriculture, the small farmer in Mexico and Central America can't afford anymore to make a living off agriculture. I met one of these farmers, his name was Miguel, and he was from El Salvador. He grows tomatos, cucumbers, and lettuce back home, but can barely make enough to feed his family, much less try to attain any sort of higher living standard. He and his wife tried to cross twice already into the US, but decided that instead they would return to El Salvador (and a wage of maybe $35 a week). They're now working in the grape fields outside Altar to save up for a bus ticket home.
So why should it surprise anyone that hundreds of thousands of people every year are fleeing north to the US? Even working in low-wage, low-skill jobs, you can make more money in a day than you can in a week back home. Let me balance this by saying that you won't hear many migrants say they want to come to the US (let's not kid ourselves, eh?). There is a very prevalent desire to go, make enough money, return and be able to start or engage in some sort of small business in the home country. Likewise, let me also balance this by saying that it's not all the US's fault. Mexico and Central America have notoriously corrupt governments, which helps nothing. In fact, Mexico's Federal Police are known as being the most exploitative of Central Americans coming through the country. I heard one story where one of these policemen was inspecting a Central American's papers, found them in order, ripped them up in front of the person, and then asked where their papers were. That's ridiculous and totally unacceptable. My point is, the corruption runs deep.
So let me see if I can bring this full circle. I'm pissed that when I went to Mexico on my conscience-massaging mission trip none of us had the attitude that it's not alright for poverty to be so prevalent when we are so affluent ourselves. Someone on our delegation pointed out that there are so many believers of Jesus in this country, but so few followers. I can believe in and pray to Jesus, but there is clearly far more to it than that. The gospel has to actually affect the way I live my life, and that means more than not having sex before marriage. Anyway, I'm hungry and accursedly rich by the world's standards. On that note, I'm going to head to lunch and recommend everyone read Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger by Ron Sider. He gives a great evangelical commentary on all these issues and reading it ought to change or at least affect your life in some way. Love,
Kyle
Friday, June 1, 2007
...
This is a worker at Just Coffee, a cooperative that works with farmers Chiapas to help give alternatives for people who would otherwise probably migrate north. SUPPORTING THEM HELPS STOP IMMIGRATION!
...
Myself and Rachel, a teammate, with the Border Patrol agent about to pull us over in the background.
...
This is a casa de huesped, of which there are over 90 in Altar. They charge $4-6 per person per night to stay in terrible conditions. If you notice, the racks they are sleeping on look remarkably
like those found in concentration camps.
Pictures: Proof we are Alive
The three of us sitting around in Benjamin Hill waiting for the train to come.
Back in Tucson: a Brief Narrative of the Past Week
Kyle here.
We got back into Tucson yesterday evening after spending about a week on the road in Douglas (AZ), Agua Prieta, Benjamin Hill, and Altar (all in Sonora). A brief round up of the week's activities include staffing a migrant resource center for migrants who have just been returned to Mexico by the Border Patrol, meeting with community organizers in Agua Prieta, visiting kitchens for migrants traveling north, meeting with a priest who was heavily involved in the Sanctuary movement of the 1980s who now works with migrants, and we observed as migrants got off the train in Benjamin Hill to rest on their way north. In Altar, we watched migrants get directly off buses from the south and look around a plaza for their next step in the journey, went to a house where migrants pay $4-6/night waiting for the last leg north, and we slept in a migrant shelter maintained by the Catholic church.
Yesterday was probably the most intense of the week. We drove north out of Altar towards Sasabe (I would recommend getting on Google Earth or a similar program to get an idea of where these places are) on a 60 mile long dirt road. Along the side of this road you can see the burnt out shells of vans with many, many bullet holes in them. Daily, hundreds of migrants drive north on this dirt road in vans that make the Altar-Sasabe trip with 20-40 people packed into what is really a 15 person van. The drug cartels charge a fee to the van drivers. The shot up, burnt out vans are the ones whose drivers didn't want to pay. Recently, there has been a spate of violence due to the drug trade, with something like 22 people (including police) murdered in one case.
So when we came to a checkpoint about 5 miles south of Sasabe, I was a tad worried. There were about eight heavily armed soldiers with a Hummer sitting beside the road. We pulled up and a young soldier told Rick, our van driver and team leader, that we all had to get out so they could inspect us and the luggage (presumably for weapons). Rick wasn't have any of it, and citing the recent violence, asked for some form of ID or a good reason we could trust them. (This conversation was completely in Spanish, and I was one of the few within earshot who could understand.) I was by that time quite nervous because of the whole situation. Eventually an officer came over, and the conversation dragged on while the rest of us engaged the young soldier standing in our doorway with an assault rifle hanging off his shoulder. Everything turned out okay, but for a while, I wasn't so assured.
Eventually we made it to the border, crossed without a problem, and were promptly pulled over by the Border Patrol within five miles. Instead of "probable cause," the Border Patrol only has to articulate "reasonable suspicion" to pull someone over. In this case, Rick assumed it was because the van was a rental and the woman riding in the front seat could vaguely pass for a Latina. Anyway, after following us a good 4-5 minutes, the agent finally put on his lights and got us to the side. We were in a bit of a hurry, so Rick didn't insist on some of the nuances that come with your rights. For instance, an agent is supposed to articulate their "reasonable suspicion" before asking to inspect a vehicle. He failed do this, but again, because of the the time constraint we simply went with the flow. We did have a bit of fun, though. When asked if all occupants were US citizens, Rick replied, "all but one." He then waited a few moments before adding that he was Swedish.
Anyway, that was our second direct run-in with the law yesterday. We passed a huge National Guard checkpoint a few miles later. Now, this was somewhat unnerving for me. When I'm in a developing country, I expect, or at least am not surprised to see a military checkpoint. But in the United States? That was pretty unsettling. And we came across a Border Patrol & National Guard checkpoint heading north from Nogales later on in the day. Again, it didn't sit well with me.
We arrived in Nogales in the early afternoon to volunteer at the No More Deaths tent for the afternoon. Here migrants who have just been returned to Mexico can come for some food and water, and get any blisters or scrapes they have treated. According to Border Patrol standards, migrants are supposed to be given food and water if they are held for more than 6 hours, but it seems to be the exception rather than the rule when this is actually the case. (Though I must interject that for the most part, migrants say they are treated well by the Border Patrol agents when in custody.) I've watched people scarf down burritos after having not eaten for two days.
Then a man told me that a women speaking on the pay phone across the street was missing a child. I told Rick and he and another volunteer went into action. It turns out that during the night, this woman and her for children, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law were crossing with a group. The coyotes (smugglers) were getting angry because she was unable to keep up with the kids, and nobody wanted to help her with them. Eventually, they got split up into two groups somehow, and when the Border Patrol surprised them, they got split up. This woman came into the No More Deaths tent with three children. The oldest, an eight year old boy, had been lost in the night with the mother- and brother-in-law, and nobody knew where they were.
Imagine that. Think of losing your oldest child in the attempt to find a better life. The wisdom of crossing with four children aside, try to grasp the desperation that would lead to you make that choice. And then try to grasp the anguish of having something so terrible as losing your child in the middle of the southern Arizona desert. There isn't much hope that the kid will remain alive. Adults die out there daily. Anyway, Rick and his counterpart across the border were calling all the people they knew: Border Patrol, consulates, Grupos Beta (a Mexican governmental organization trying to keep migrants safe and provide them ways to return home/south if they choose), and others. Though minors are often lost in the desert, it is quite an unusual thing for an eight year old to get lost. A full-blown Border Patrol search was waiting in the wings as we went into last night.
Long story made short, Rick and a few of our team arrived at No More Deaths' office in Nogales to the news that the boy, mother-, and brother-in-law had shown up in Altar. After getting separated in the desert, they happened to by with the coyotes, who took them back to Altar. But again, reflect on the desperation that would lead you to such a decision. Because apparently the next step for this family is to go to another part of the border, where the husband (who lives in the Seattle/Tacoma area) will meet them and try to help them across.
That was a relief, but the rest of us didn't find out until this afternoon. Tyler and I spent the day making little 2' x 1' white crosses for an action we're going to do tomorrow. We'll be following the Wackenhut buses that have been contracted out by the government to collect migrants as the Border Patrol captures them, take them to a Border Patrol station for processing, and then return them to the border. The problem here is that by contracting out this function, an element of transparency is lost in the process of holding migrants. Rick was telling a story about Wackenhut over dinner tonight about how they lost their contract to do security for the Department of Homeland Security building in DC over a horribly mishandled anthrax scare. So they lost their contract to keep the DHS safe while gaining another contract to keep migrants safe. That makes sense.
So tomorrow we'll be following one of the buses on its daily route. We'll try and offer food and water to the migrants (and we'll probably be denied). We'll have signs indicating solidarity with the migrants on the bus. And we'll be erecting Mexican-style shrines at each point where the buses stops, each with three crosses that say "NINOS" (children), "MADRES Y PADRES" (mothers and fathers), and "CUANTOS MAS?" (how many more?).
Anyway, enough for now. I might try and upload some pictures or something. Leave us a comment, let us know how you're doing. We'll be here until Sunday, and then the three of us head north either that night or Monday. We'll probably be in Denver by Wednesday. But look for more posts on here in the meantime. Sorry for the absence, but we didn't have internet in Mexico. Much love to all who read this,
Kyle
We got back into Tucson yesterday evening after spending about a week on the road in Douglas (AZ), Agua Prieta, Benjamin Hill, and Altar (all in Sonora). A brief round up of the week's activities include staffing a migrant resource center for migrants who have just been returned to Mexico by the Border Patrol, meeting with community organizers in Agua Prieta, visiting kitchens for migrants traveling north, meeting with a priest who was heavily involved in the Sanctuary movement of the 1980s who now works with migrants, and we observed as migrants got off the train in Benjamin Hill to rest on their way north. In Altar, we watched migrants get directly off buses from the south and look around a plaza for their next step in the journey, went to a house where migrants pay $4-6/night waiting for the last leg north, and we slept in a migrant shelter maintained by the Catholic church.
Yesterday was probably the most intense of the week. We drove north out of Altar towards Sasabe (I would recommend getting on Google Earth or a similar program to get an idea of where these places are) on a 60 mile long dirt road. Along the side of this road you can see the burnt out shells of vans with many, many bullet holes in them. Daily, hundreds of migrants drive north on this dirt road in vans that make the Altar-Sasabe trip with 20-40 people packed into what is really a 15 person van. The drug cartels charge a fee to the van drivers. The shot up, burnt out vans are the ones whose drivers didn't want to pay. Recently, there has been a spate of violence due to the drug trade, with something like 22 people (including police) murdered in one case.
So when we came to a checkpoint about 5 miles south of Sasabe, I was a tad worried. There were about eight heavily armed soldiers with a Hummer sitting beside the road. We pulled up and a young soldier told Rick, our van driver and team leader, that we all had to get out so they could inspect us and the luggage (presumably for weapons). Rick wasn't have any of it, and citing the recent violence, asked for some form of ID or a good reason we could trust them. (This conversation was completely in Spanish, and I was one of the few within earshot who could understand.) I was by that time quite nervous because of the whole situation. Eventually an officer came over, and the conversation dragged on while the rest of us engaged the young soldier standing in our doorway with an assault rifle hanging off his shoulder. Everything turned out okay, but for a while, I wasn't so assured.
Eventually we made it to the border, crossed without a problem, and were promptly pulled over by the Border Patrol within five miles. Instead of "probable cause," the Border Patrol only has to articulate "reasonable suspicion" to pull someone over. In this case, Rick assumed it was because the van was a rental and the woman riding in the front seat could vaguely pass for a Latina. Anyway, after following us a good 4-5 minutes, the agent finally put on his lights and got us to the side. We were in a bit of a hurry, so Rick didn't insist on some of the nuances that come with your rights. For instance, an agent is supposed to articulate their "reasonable suspicion" before asking to inspect a vehicle. He failed do this, but again, because of the the time constraint we simply went with the flow. We did have a bit of fun, though. When asked if all occupants were US citizens, Rick replied, "all but one." He then waited a few moments before adding that he was Swedish.
Anyway, that was our second direct run-in with the law yesterday. We passed a huge National Guard checkpoint a few miles later. Now, this was somewhat unnerving for me. When I'm in a developing country, I expect, or at least am not surprised to see a military checkpoint. But in the United States? That was pretty unsettling. And we came across a Border Patrol & National Guard checkpoint heading north from Nogales later on in the day. Again, it didn't sit well with me.
We arrived in Nogales in the early afternoon to volunteer at the No More Deaths tent for the afternoon. Here migrants who have just been returned to Mexico can come for some food and water, and get any blisters or scrapes they have treated. According to Border Patrol standards, migrants are supposed to be given food and water if they are held for more than 6 hours, but it seems to be the exception rather than the rule when this is actually the case. (Though I must interject that for the most part, migrants say they are treated well by the Border Patrol agents when in custody.) I've watched people scarf down burritos after having not eaten for two days.
Then a man told me that a women speaking on the pay phone across the street was missing a child. I told Rick and he and another volunteer went into action. It turns out that during the night, this woman and her for children, mother-in-law, and brother-in-law were crossing with a group. The coyotes (smugglers) were getting angry because she was unable to keep up with the kids, and nobody wanted to help her with them. Eventually, they got split up into two groups somehow, and when the Border Patrol surprised them, they got split up. This woman came into the No More Deaths tent with three children. The oldest, an eight year old boy, had been lost in the night with the mother- and brother-in-law, and nobody knew where they were.
Imagine that. Think of losing your oldest child in the attempt to find a better life. The wisdom of crossing with four children aside, try to grasp the desperation that would lead to you make that choice. And then try to grasp the anguish of having something so terrible as losing your child in the middle of the southern Arizona desert. There isn't much hope that the kid will remain alive. Adults die out there daily. Anyway, Rick and his counterpart across the border were calling all the people they knew: Border Patrol, consulates, Grupos Beta (a Mexican governmental organization trying to keep migrants safe and provide them ways to return home/south if they choose), and others. Though minors are often lost in the desert, it is quite an unusual thing for an eight year old to get lost. A full-blown Border Patrol search was waiting in the wings as we went into last night.
Long story made short, Rick and a few of our team arrived at No More Deaths' office in Nogales to the news that the boy, mother-, and brother-in-law had shown up in Altar. After getting separated in the desert, they happened to by with the coyotes, who took them back to Altar. But again, reflect on the desperation that would lead you to such a decision. Because apparently the next step for this family is to go to another part of the border, where the husband (who lives in the Seattle/Tacoma area) will meet them and try to help them across.
That was a relief, but the rest of us didn't find out until this afternoon. Tyler and I spent the day making little 2' x 1' white crosses for an action we're going to do tomorrow. We'll be following the Wackenhut buses that have been contracted out by the government to collect migrants as the Border Patrol captures them, take them to a Border Patrol station for processing, and then return them to the border. The problem here is that by contracting out this function, an element of transparency is lost in the process of holding migrants. Rick was telling a story about Wackenhut over dinner tonight about how they lost their contract to do security for the Department of Homeland Security building in DC over a horribly mishandled anthrax scare. So they lost their contract to keep the DHS safe while gaining another contract to keep migrants safe. That makes sense.
So tomorrow we'll be following one of the buses on its daily route. We'll try and offer food and water to the migrants (and we'll probably be denied). We'll have signs indicating solidarity with the migrants on the bus. And we'll be erecting Mexican-style shrines at each point where the buses stops, each with three crosses that say "NINOS" (children), "MADRES Y PADRES" (mothers and fathers), and "CUANTOS MAS?" (how many more?).
Anyway, enough for now. I might try and upload some pictures or something. Leave us a comment, let us know how you're doing. We'll be here until Sunday, and then the three of us head north either that night or Monday. We'll probably be in Denver by Wednesday. But look for more posts on here in the meantime. Sorry for the absence, but we didn't have internet in Mexico. Much love to all who read this,
Kyle
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Service of Rememberence and Commitment
This morning we attended a memorial service at the wall between the US and Mexico near Douglas, AZ. We painted crosses on the wall in remembrance of those who have died in the desert near Douglas in the last year. We called out the names of those who have died in Cochise County and pounded on the wall with a mallet. The service was powerful and full of emotion, bringing together a 'commitment not to forget' as well as a message of hope. I was struck by the reading of the names, because those who had died were no longer a statistic, but real people with lives, dreams, and families.
Tonight, Kyle and I will be working at a center providing care to migrants who are dumped back in Mexico by the border patrol and John will be working there Sunday night. This will be the first opportunity we have to interact with migrant peoples and I am looking forward to being able to serve them.
-Tyler
Tonight, Kyle and I will be working at a center providing care to migrants who are dumped back in Mexico by the border patrol and John will be working there Sunday night. This will be the first opportunity we have to interact with migrant peoples and I am looking forward to being able to serve them.
-Tyler
Douglas, AZ
We are making last preparations this morning for our public action at the wall. In fact, the final call just came, so we need to head out right now. We'll be doing a prayer service at the wall and then reading the names of those who have died in the borderlands desert area and painting a cross on the wall for each of them. Hopefully we'll have a press release and some pictures for you up in a second.
Right now we're staying in Douglas, AZ and will be here for a couple more days. The next two nights and early mornings we'll be volunteering at a migrant processing center on the Mexico side of the border providing health care, water, and food (this is where border patrol brings the people they pick up in the desert). You can't miss signs that you are near the border. Besides the wall, the night is lit up by bright lights along the border, and there are border patrol cars everywhere. We even got shadowed by one (quite obviously) for a couple blocks. Got to go. -Kyle
Right now we're staying in Douglas, AZ and will be here for a couple more days. The next two nights and early mornings we'll be volunteering at a migrant processing center on the Mexico side of the border providing health care, water, and food (this is where border patrol brings the people they pick up in the desert). You can't miss signs that you are near the border. Besides the wall, the night is lit up by bright lights along the border, and there are border patrol cars everywhere. We even got shadowed by one (quite obviously) for a couple blocks. Got to go. -Kyle
Travels and Arrival
Over the past few days, we've traveled by car from Tyler's house in Denver, CO to a motel in Albuquerque, NM, to the home of Rick Ufford-Chase in Tucson, AZ, to the borderlands site of our first delegation events in Douglas, AZ. Unfortunately, we will not be able to post on this blog page nearly as often as we'd like to in the days to come. We've got a full schedule ahead of us, and from what we can tell, it is going to be very intense/sweet. We will be engaging in public action, which includes painting white crosses on the wall at the border among other things. We will also be meeting with human rights groups, government officials, and individuals on both sides of the U.S./Mexico border issue throughout the whole of our delegation. More to come on these events.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Denver II
On a totally unrelated note, watching Liverpool FC lose to AC Milan in the Champions League final is not the greatest way to start this trip. Oh well, we leave within a half hour.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Denver
John and I (Kyle) made it safely to Denver today. The plane was delayed 45 minutes, but it was no problem in the end. Of course, wouldn't you know it, but Denver too is cloudy and overcast. Anyway, as I write, Tyler is flexing his guitar hero muscles, and John is reading. Tommorow we'll leave in the early afternoon and drive to Albequerque, stay the night there, and then continue on to Tucson on Thursday. That's about all that's new with us. We hope you're well and will update you when we can.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Pre-delegation Thoughts
Redmond, WA – 9pm
It’s been a dreary day in the Puget Sound area. I (Kyle) arrived back on the west side of the state late last night after driving over here right after graduation. After a couple weeks of great weather in Spokane, the pouring rain between George and Ellensburg made for a rough reminder that Washington is known for its rain. But on that note, we needn’t worry about precipitation, as we’re heading to the desert southern Arizona tomorrow!
We haven’t received our itinerary as of yet, but we will in the next couple of days. When we have that in hand, we’ll be able to more accurately tell you what all we’re doing. John talked to the CPT delegation coordinator in their Chicago office today and she mentioned that we’ll be in Mexico for half of the trip and then in Douglas, Arizona for the rest of it.
John and I split our time today between reading the pre-delegation material, writing up press releases, and running some last minute errands. It still hasn’t sunk in yet that we’re actually going on this delegation. This past semester was especially intense, so we haven’t had a ton of time to devote to preparing ourselves for what we’re getting into. I don’t think any of us are exactly sure what sort of mentality you’re supposed to cultivate for a trip like this; the most similar trip I can think of was that of Mike (my roommate!), Zach, Nicola, and Eric (who is going on the Migrant Trail Walk at the same time we’re in Arizona) to the Christian Peace Witness in DC. But this is longer and more in-depth, and we’re not quite speaking to the powers that be as they were.
I don’t think the mission trip mindset works for this either, although maybe this is more like what a mission trip should be like. I recall hearing one of my professors who has much experience in Africa lamenting that mission trips often go into a situation assuming that they know the needs and solutions of a particular situation without taking time to sit back and listen to what the community itself has to say. I hope that these ten days will be characterized by such an attitude of curiosity and humility in us. Likewise, I hope that we are patient, diligent, and humble when it comes to dealing with people who might be opposed to what we are doing or learning.
Enough rambling. Tomorrow John and I fly to Denver at noon (which means we miss the Champions League final between Liverpool and AC Milan—ARGH), and then hang out at Tyler’s house until Wednesday. Then we’ll get in the car and drive through the night to Tucson, where the delegation starts. It’s a 12 to 16 hour drive, so we’ll be on the road for bit. Every bit of prayer regarding safety (and other things too, of course) is much appreciated!
If you have any questions, feel free to email any of us or Mike Vander Giessen, as we’ll be keeping him as up to date as anyone. John and Tyler will both have their phones with them, too.
It’s been a dreary day in the Puget Sound area. I (Kyle) arrived back on the west side of the state late last night after driving over here right after graduation. After a couple weeks of great weather in Spokane, the pouring rain between George and Ellensburg made for a rough reminder that Washington is known for its rain. But on that note, we needn’t worry about precipitation, as we’re heading to the desert southern Arizona tomorrow!
We haven’t received our itinerary as of yet, but we will in the next couple of days. When we have that in hand, we’ll be able to more accurately tell you what all we’re doing. John talked to the CPT delegation coordinator in their Chicago office today and she mentioned that we’ll be in Mexico for half of the trip and then in Douglas, Arizona for the rest of it.
John and I split our time today between reading the pre-delegation material, writing up press releases, and running some last minute errands. It still hasn’t sunk in yet that we’re actually going on this delegation. This past semester was especially intense, so we haven’t had a ton of time to devote to preparing ourselves for what we’re getting into. I don’t think any of us are exactly sure what sort of mentality you’re supposed to cultivate for a trip like this; the most similar trip I can think of was that of Mike (my roommate!), Zach, Nicola, and Eric (who is going on the Migrant Trail Walk at the same time we’re in Arizona) to the Christian Peace Witness in DC. But this is longer and more in-depth, and we’re not quite speaking to the powers that be as they were.
I don’t think the mission trip mindset works for this either, although maybe this is more like what a mission trip should be like. I recall hearing one of my professors who has much experience in Africa lamenting that mission trips often go into a situation assuming that they know the needs and solutions of a particular situation without taking time to sit back and listen to what the community itself has to say. I hope that these ten days will be characterized by such an attitude of curiosity and humility in us. Likewise, I hope that we are patient, diligent, and humble when it comes to dealing with people who might be opposed to what we are doing or learning.
Enough rambling. Tomorrow John and I fly to Denver at noon (which means we miss the Champions League final between Liverpool and AC Milan—ARGH), and then hang out at Tyler’s house until Wednesday. Then we’ll get in the car and drive through the night to Tucson, where the delegation starts. It’s a 12 to 16 hour drive, so we’ll be on the road for bit. Every bit of prayer regarding safety (and other things too, of course) is much appreciated!
If you have any questions, feel free to email any of us or Mike Vander Giessen, as we’ll be keeping him as up to date as anyone. John and Tyler will both have their phones with them, too.
Pre-trip Press Release
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE - May 21, 2007
WHITWORTH STUDENTS TRAVEL TO ARIZONA BORDERLANDS WITH CPT DELEGATION
Kyle Navis, Tyler Schroeder and John Williamson, students at Whitworth College in Spokane, travel to Tucson, Arizona on Thursday, May 24 as part of a delegation sponsored by Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT). More than 205 migrants died in the Arizona borderlands last year as tightened borders led economic migrants to risk their lives in the inhospitable desert. Douglas, Arizona, where CPT's seasonal presence has been based, is considered the most militarized city in the U.S. because of the large presence of U.S. Border Patrol agents. National Guard troops have also contributed to this militarization, even while private security contractors have taken over some border control functions. Anti-immigrant vigilantes have been active in the region as well.
Members of the CPT delegation will monitor human rights, engage in violence-deterrence activities, and confront unjust immigration policies through non-violent public witness. They will also meet on both sides of the border with human rights groups, government officials and individuals affected by the immigration policies.
Schroeder, Navis and Williamson will be available to share what they have learned about the challenges facing the people of the Arizona border region after June 6 and will return to Whitworth College in September.
Christian Peacemaker Teams is an initiative of the historic peace churches (Mennonites, Church of the Brethren and Quakers) with support and membership from a range of Catholic and Protestant denominations. CPT sends teams of trained peacemakers to places of conflict around the world, with a seasonal presence in the Arizona borderlands since May 2004. For more information about CPT, contact the Chicago office at 773-277-0253 or email peacemakers@cpt.org.
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