Border Links

As I raced down the street and glimpsed the bus which would take the class to Nogales, I sighed with relief. I thought I’d be late and the bus would already have departed. I plopped down next to Vinay Singh and as the bus sputtered slowly out of the parking lot and grumbled on the way to Tucson, we conversed about politics, differences and similarities between different nations, stereotyping and our own life journeys.

            We arrived at the Borderlinks house and received information about topics such as the Vigilante groups, Border Patrol and the Colonias where we would have lunch. This part of the trip was informative. On the way to Nogales in the Borderlinks 15 passenger van, the driver gave the group more information than we requested. Although his incessant, cascading knowledge was appreciated, most students rolled their eyes because of his long-winded explanations.

            We arrived at the Border Patrol headquarters, and were greeted by a young officer named Levi Faber. He looked familiar to me but I couldn’t place where I’d seen him before. As a couple of students whispered about his familiarity, we concluded that he looked like the person we saw in movies who pretended to be noble yet turned out to be the adversary. He gave an extremely brief presentation about the Border Patrol and their positions on immigrants. I repeatedly noticed that he kept referring to the migrants as “illegal aliens.” Another thing that disturbed me was that he hinted towards the immigrants facilitating crime.

            This presentation was very useful to me because it helped me to see both sides of the story more candidly. Before this presentation, I saw the position opaquely from the migrant’s point of view but the presentation has helped me to better understand the position of the border patrol. I wanted to ask the agent what he thought about the vigilante groups but we did not have enough time because we were running late. Faber stated that the solution to the migrant deaths in the desert is for all the migrants to use the established “legal portals.” He basically berated the migrants for using coyotes, whereas they could easily give $100 for an immigration card. I understand Faber’s point of view but I still think that if people really want to make a difference, they should treat others with compassion and tolerance instead of indifference and apathy.

            Afterwards, we moved on towards Nogales and we finally arrived in the Colonias for lunch. I was excited to meet our host family and I was also excited about our lunch. Different groups traveled to different families, and five members from our van went to one particular home. Although the house was small relative to most US homes, it was still comfortable, personable and clean. As soon as we got there, our host made us feel comfortable and served us lunch. We had green peppers and corn in a crème sauce, rice mixed with corn, potato stuffed in tortillas, and coke.

            It was a delicious lunch and I could see that she had gone through a lot of trouble making the food. In a way, I think that the Colonia families related to the Tonga families in the book “Voyages.” In this book, anthropologist Cathy A. Small, analyzes several Tongan families who migrate from their Tongan villages to America. The Tongan families are unselfish and although they might not have much, they are always willing to share to the point where they themselves have nothing left. The Tongan families struggle to keep their identity in a different society and the younger generations try to be more assertive in a new culture. We tried to talk to our Colonia host but as none of the members in our group spoke fluent Spanish, we had many misunderstandings, yet laughed away our own embarrassments. Luckily, a prepare member had brought a dictionary, so we were not at a complete loss. Several neighborhood children came to play and we shared some bubblegum with them. I think that this was my favorite part of my trip because it really tore apart the barriers of language and culture. A little faith, kindness and laughter go a long way.

            At the Maquiladora, I had expected a run-down, shoddy warehouse where the workers were all miserable. As we went inside, we were handed gloves, shoe covers, and overcoats. I don’t know whether this was done for protection or to get more of a feel for the Maquila. I later found out that the protection was to protect the elevator. I was surprised at the warmth and sincerity of the workers and staff. Later, I heard that this particular Maquiladora was paying its workers above the minimum wage. My mom always tells me that there exists good and bad elements in every aspect of life and that I should always keep my eyes open to both if I wanted to learn something valuable. I guess she was right.

            The trip back to Phoenix was one of reflection; I had to re-evaluate my own stereotyping and prejudices. On the van-ride back to Tucson, I already thought in an “industrious” way. I settled in an comfortable position and thought about the things that I had to finish for tomorrow. I thought about my own schooling, my job, my family and friends and my life compared to that of  other people. I realized that no matter how difficult or devastating something in my life was, it must have been an everyday situation for people in Nogales and in other countries. On our bus ride back to Phoenix, Vinay  and I talked, although he complained about his migraine. As I passed the Motrin on to him, we laughed about some of the things that had happened on the trip and realized that we were lucky to be living the life we were given by our parents and family members who are migrants themselves. They struggled with many of the same issues that are often shared among migrants from different nations.

by Manija Sherzada