Author: Adriana Gaona

 Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Hello again from Tucson!

Yesterday was an interesting and eye-opening day as it was my first time seeing the border wall. We went out with a group called the Tucson Samaritans to build a temporary shelter and transport supplies for migrants after they had crossed. Tucson Samaritans is a volunteer-led humanitarian aid group that provides food, shelter, and basic supplies for migrants crossing the border to try and minimize migrant suffering and death.

Seeing the border wall in person is intense – a looming 30 foot wall of metal bars spaced just wide enough apart so you can see through but not wide enough for someone to fit through. On the top is a large metal plate with a beveled edge to try and deter people from climbing over it. It is harsh and unnatural, yet as we drove by I could see it was littered with discarded clothing, bottles of water, and trash – evidence of the people it is trying to keep out. We drove along many miles of the wall coming from the town of Sasabe, then arrived at the end where there is a gap with a shorter fence. There we learned is the new unofficial crossing where many migrants will cross every day.

We encountered one group of migrants who had recently crossed and we stopped to give them sandwiches and water. While we were there, a CBP officer drove up and told them to wait here for a transport van to come and pick them up. We waited with them for a few minutes until we were assured that they had sufficient food and water and the van was on its way. Seeing this group of people made me a bit emotional, as they carried nothing with them other than a small backpack and the clothes on their backs. I found it difficult to know what to say to them, as I cannot even begin to comprehend the physical and emotional stress of their journeys, or how much longer they would have to endure.

When people cross the border, they can choose to voluntarily turn themselves in to border patrol to see if they are eligible to seek asylum, which is common for most of those crossing, especially families. Border patrol makes pick-ups every day at 8am, 2pm, 8pm, and 2am, so it could be that sometimes people are waiting out in the heat for several hours. Samaritan groups started building temporary shelters and “camps” with food, water, and basic supplies near the wall to provide a place out of the heat to prevent further injury or death due to dehydration. These camps also make it easier for CBP to see groups of migrants to pick them up. We spent all day near the unofficial crossing and helped Samaritans build a large shelter, dig latrines, and transport supplies. Once we had the tarps up on the shelter, I could feel the distinct difference between the sun and the shade. I can see how something as simple as the shade can provide much-needed protection and has the potential to save lives.

When we finished and started driving back to Tucson, I reflected on the physical and political symbol of the border wall. As we drove on the incredibly steep dirt road along the wall, we talked about the tragedy of the many migrant deaths that have occurred in this beautiful yet harsh desert landscape (seen here in a map created by Humane Borders). Our Samaritans guide appropriately stated: “you have to hold the beauty with the tragedy, they cannot be separated”. Just as the giant metal wall cuts abruptly through the beautiful landscape of the Sonoran mountains, the policies that it represents cast a dark shadow on the freedoms and opportunity in our beautiful nation.

Quenla

Monday, May 27, 2024

Hello! My name is Quenla Haehnel and I am a recent MPH graduate in the Applied Epidemiology concentration from UNC Gillings School of Global Public Health. I am writing from the beautiful city of Tucson, Arizona, as part of a group of students, faculty, and physicians who participated in the migrant health service learning (MHSL) trip organized by the UNC School of Medicine Office of Global Health Education (OGHE). Having completed my summer practicum experience with the North Carolina Farmworker Health Program working with migrant farmworkers, I (like many others in our group) had background and interests in the migrant health experience which is what attracted me to this opportunity.

Most of our time so far in Tucson has been spent volunteering at Casa Alitas, a local non-profit shelter that provides food, clothing, temporary shelter, basic medical care and travel assistance for asylum seekers after they have been released from Customs and Border Patrol (CBP). Casa Alitas was started ten years ago in response to “street releases”, where hundreds of asylum-seeking families were dropped off at Greyhound bus stations in Tucson, oftentimes without the resources or assistance to get connected to their sponsors throughout the United States. Since the founding of Casa Alitas, zero street releases have occurred in the city of Tucson. This is a remarkable feat, however, policy changes and termination of funding streams often threaten the ability of Casa Alitas to continue to provide the aid that it does.

In the few days so far that we have volunteered at Casa Alitas, I have been blown away by a few things.

First, I am shocked by the sheer number of individuals and families that pass through Casa Alitas every day. Casa Alitas operates two shelter facilities in Tucson – one where children and families are housed and another for single males. In our time there, the average number of people coming through both facilities was a few hundred per day. Last year, staff reported that the number got sometimes as high as 2,000 people processed per day. There are several factors that contribute to the volume of migrants and it fluctuates constantly, often making it impossible to anticipate food budgets, bus and shelter capacity, and other unforeseen needs.

Second, I was impressed with the incredible resilience, patience, and gratitude demonstrated by these asylum seekers, despite the fact that they had endured so much already, oftentimes having been stripped of their clothing and personal belongings, separated from family members, and deprived basic human dignity. One particular experience resonated with me. I struck up a conversation with a Venezuelan man after I had helped him find some new clothing. He explained that in Venezuela he and his family had worked in the fields, and he proudly showed me a picture he had taken of his son working along a beautiful green hillside. While he said he missed his family terribly, he was optimistic and hopeful about providing for them in the United States. He then asked about me and where our group was from. When I told him we were from North Carolina he said, “wow, that’s really far away”. The juxtaposition of this comment took me aback, considering the ease and relative comfort I had experienced in my travels as a U.S. citizen compared to someone coming to a foreign country, seeking asylum – his was obviously a much longer and more difficult journey. And yet, our conversation was light and hopeful, as casual as if we had met at the grocery store. Even though I was the one who was supposed to be helping him, his easy smile and resilient optimism inspired me.

Third, I have been impressed with the goodness and sacrifice shown by the staff and volunteers at Casa Alitas and with other volunteer organizations we have worked with so far. It is an immense operation and requires a coordinated effort by many staff and volunteers who donate their time and energy to help. As temporary volunteers, we were limited in the help that we could provide, but it was amazing to see the positive effect of our little actions such as sharing a smile, speaking their language, or giving them the ability to choose between two different articles of donated clothing.

I am excited for the further learning that will come during the rest of our time in Tucson!

Quenla