Shoelaces and love
When migrants are dropped across the border into Mexico after a pickup by the Border Patrol, they have no shoelaces.
Shoelaces are the first thing that is confiscated from migrants “so they won’t run away”. They arrive at the small clinica with no medications, no cell phone (and most start out with cell phones), and no little slips of paper with telephone numbers of family or prospective employers in Washington, Oregon, Chicago, New York, Alabama. All have been taken away by US authorities. Usually they have no money and no ID. It is impossible for the migrant to contact his hope for the future—his job in el norte or a family member—because the Border Patrol has emptied their pockets and taken precious scraps of paper with the phone numbers. Many have no idea where Nogales is. They’ve never heard of the place.
They show up at the clinica with blood sugars sky high. Their medications for diabetes were taken away, and they need immediate help. I do not know why important medicatons are not returned, but they aren’t. All have a vacant, empty look on their face. They have nothing but the shirt on their back and shoes that are literally rotting on their feet. One fellow this week eagerly took a toothbrush in a “hygiene packet” we had prepared and marched over to a sink and began scrubbing his teeth. No water, no toothpaste—just vigorously scrubbing his teeth. He had just arrived after days in the desert.
If the shoe fits....
A college student with a Georgetown University t-shirt sits down with this young man. This is her “semester abroad”, and she is amazing. She lives with the nuns in their quarters in this very poor section of Nogales. Her face is luminous. She speaks excellent Spanish and helps me as I try and figure out what to do. He needs a plan. He decides to go back to his village. Our group pools resources and buys him a bus ticket and money for food. The journey will be long—back to Oaxaca.
And we find a good pair of shoes and brand new shoelaces.
