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Desert Encounters
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MY ONE EVENING IN EL PASO
was spent at the homeless shelter where my cousin Cecily is a volunteer.
She had recently returned from Chiapas, where she was part of a group
of observers to the peace process. She told me about her trip to Mexico,
and as the homeless straggled in, she told me their stories, too.
"Aieee," Cecily cried as a mother and her ten-year-old walked in. "They're back again!" Maria and Juan have been trying to get to a northern state for a year to join the rest of their family, who work on a ranch. Maria, a slight, thin woman with pale skin and an angular face, has traversed the mountains on foot and by car, her son in tow. She has even saved enough money to pay "coyotes," professional people-smugglers, to take them over the border. But they have been caught each time . . . . . . read the rest of this story in American Borders - the book |
