It ain’t Kansas, Toto
A fellow limps into the clinic looking hot, tired, and tattered. He looks to be 24, tops. He was picked up by the Border Patrol “just outside of Tijuana” and brought to Nogales, Sonora, for reasons I don’t understand. There are cactus puncture wounds, a bad ankle sprain, and 2 blistered feet with the skin torn off. He speaks perfect English, and tells me he was heading to Wichita, Kansas, where he grew up. Kansas??!! It turns out he has been in Kansas since he was a baby, but after high school went back to Oaxaca to see relatives, fell in love, got married, and has a 2 year old daughter. Showing me a wrinkled photo of a baby in his jeans pocket, he gets choked up. Then he abruptly asks me if I know how the Chieftains are faring—and what I think of the Diamondbacks. (the Arizona baseball team)
I ask him, “What were you going to do in Wichita? Why did you leave your wife and baby?” He tells me he is a “fabulous Mexican tile setter”, and he has a good job with a construction company in Wichita. He scored this job through old friends. “Gringos love what I do with bathrooms and kitchens.” Making 5 times the salary he would be making in Oaxaca, he decided it was worth the risk. He planned to stay for 6 months, send money to his wife, then come home to Oaxaca and his family.
I ask him “Why didn’t you ever apply for citizenship when you were in Kansas?” He shrugs and tells me he didn’t know he was “illegal” until he was 16. He was always able to cross back and forth in the past to see family in Mexico, so “didn’t think it was that big of a deal” to keep on crossing. He is wincing as I soak his feet in the little plastic tubs with epsom salts. He is thinking. Finally he says, “I’m not going to try this again. It is tough for me in Oaxaca, but there are too many cops now looking for us in the US.”
My Samaritan colleagues and I chip in and buy this fellow a bus ticket back to Oaxaca and money for food. He chokes up again, and asks if I watched the Super Bowl last winter. How about them Packers? I feel like I am talking with a kid from LA who is a bit of a sports nut. I tell him I’d like to see his tile work sometime. He grins and tells me to look him up in Oaxaca.
