Dina Diaz; her husband Carlos Pavón Flores; and their daughter Esther fled her home in Nicaragua due to gang violence. They are seeking asylum in the United States.
El Paso and Ciudad Juárez — Dina Diaz walked slowly behind her husband through the streets of El Paso, Texas, trying to hide her defeat and frustration from their children. A social worker escorted them to an emergency shelter only to be denied entry and within an hour, with the sunlight gone, temperatures would quickly drop below freezing.
Moments earlier, the seven-months-pregnant Nicaraguan mother of three couldn’t hold back tears as the social worker burst into tears, apologizing for coming empty-handed.
Diaz and her family are among the thousands of migrants who arrived in El Paso last week. They are part of a rash of border crossings that are overwhelming resources in this community — a crisis that is likely to worsen with the court-ordered end of Title 42 next week.
More than 2,500 people have arrived in El Paso each day for the past week, city officials said, warning that the number is expected to double after the federal policy is lifted.
El Paso Mayor Oscar Leeser said his city is doing everything it can to solve the crisis.
“It’s something we’re going to have to work with the UN and other countries to resolve. It’s a situation that’s bigger than El Paso again, and now it’s become bigger than the United States,” he told reporters earlier. week.
Leeser’s comments and a visit by Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas to El Paso this week reignited debate over how authorities should respond to the expected influx of migrants by repealing Title 42, a Trump-era public health policy that allows federal immigration agents to quickly deport migrants to Mexico. or their home countries.
A federal judge has ordered the government to end the policy by Dec. 21, and the reality of that looming deadline is weighing heavily on the city, where officials and community groups already say they are overwhelmed.
“We have a responsibility to come together at this time,” said Marisa Limón Garza, executive director of the Las Americas Immigrant Advocacy Center, a local nonprofit that provides legal services to immigrants.
“It (the crisis) requires all of us to encourage our elected officials to do more and really take a stand on this issue. It’s not something we can just walk away from, we don’t have that luxury. This is a real phenomenon that people everywhere in The US needs to know,” she added.
Like the way of life on the border, the continued arrival of migrants is as complex and palpable in El Paso as it is in Ciudad Juárez, its larger sister city in Mexico. On the northern concrete banks of the Rio Grande, hundreds of people – many of them Nicaraguans – stand in line for hours, waiting to claim asylum in the US. On the southern banks of the river, where Mexican officials last month dismantled a camp of migrants living in tents, Venezuelans yearn for the day when they can do so without being deported to Mexico. A number of nonprofit and religious groups, as well as governments on both sides of the border, are struggling as their shelters quickly reach capacity.
CNN spoke to people on both sides of the U.S.-Mexico border about the harsh realities migrant families have experienced after fleeing poverty, drug and gang violence in their home countries, and the role some local residents are playing in the humanitarian crisis.
A journey ‘that marked me for life’
Many of the migrants who waded into the knee-deep waters of the Rio Grande that divide the outskirts of the Twin Cities’ downtowns and were later detained and prosecuted by federal authorities have been sleeping on the streets of El Paso for days. See the article : ‘Pride is protest’ – the power of the people’s voice is better in the midst of politics and pandemics. They congregated near bus stops less than half a mile from where they reached the US.
For the past week, Misael Aguilera waited outside a Greyhound station hoping to embark on a final eight-hour bus ride that would reunite him with his brother in Central Texas.
The 35-year-old spent more than two months traveling from Peru to El Paso, but still can’t afford a bus ticket. He arrived at the US-Mexico border with only the clothes he was wearing.
“The trip to Mexico was horrible, it’s an experience I won’t be able to forget — something that has marked me for life,” Aguilera said of being robbed, hearing about kidnappings and seeing people lose their lives.
Aguilera, who used to work as a clinical nurse in his native Cuba, keeps busy by keeping a makeshift camp outside a downtown bus station somewhat tidy and clean. As some people leave on buses, he and others collect the larger blankets that some leave behind and keep them for those who may arrive at any time.
“We’re trying to keep things tidy. Make sure the trash is picked up, keeping this area clean and just creating an environment where we can feel safe,” Aguilera said.
“I’ll just do it until I’m gone,” he said.
Others near the Greyhound station include Diaz, her family and her sister’s family. A total of 11 people, including adults and their young to teenage children, were staying in El Paso for about a week, unable to afford bus tickets for each of them.
Afraid of being separated, they spent most nights on the streets after shelters didn’t accept them all or they were denied entry because they didn’t make travel arrangements from El Paso. There were countless times when Diaz’s husband, Carlos Pavón Flores, could only hold their daughter Esther in his arms in silence. If anything, he wants to keep her safe and warm.
El Paso resident: ‘If people can help, please do’
Daniel Banda tends to the once quiet convenience store and gas station near the edge of downtown El Paso. Read also : Encourage Your Team to Take a Break and Look at Business Intelligence. The building, located across the street from another bus station and two blocks from a Greyhound station, has become the first stop for many migrants seeking food and water after being released from Border Patrol custody.
And this 20-year-old, who spent his days solely cleaning and restocking shelves, might be the first El Paso resident who isn’t a government employee that many migrants encounter.
Some ask him if the store would exchange pesos for dollars, if they sell SIM cards so they can call their relatives, for access to a clean toilet, or directions to a store where they can buy clothes. At times, the constant traffic could be hectic, Banda says, but he understands the precarious situation migrants find themselves in.
“I come from a humble background and my family taught me to help in any way I can,” Banda said. “And they are very respected people, very respected. They are good people, even better than some of the locals.”
“They even offered to clean or help with chores around the store,” he added.
A few meters away from the store, dozens of people are camping on the sidewalk. In the last two months, the number of people in the area has increased significantly, he says. Some have been sleeping there for almost a week, while others arrived no more than a day ago.
Because Banda often talks to his family about his interactions with migrants at the grocery store, he says his mother started collecting blankets to donate and talking to her employers and acquaintances about how they too could help.
“If people can help, please do. They need beds, gloves, hats, socks, food. Nothing goes to waste,” Banda said.
‘We don’t want to say no to anybody’
When a white bus unannounced dropped 25 men who had just been released from immigration detention at the shelter’s doorstep near downtown El Paso, staff members — from social workers, receptionists and maintenance workers — rushed to pick up intake forms and pens in greeting. To see also : A Beginner’s Guide to Types of Video Games. them.
The facility is one of five homeless shelters that were either full or overflowing with the influx of migrants, said John Martin, deputy director of the Opportunity Center for the Homeless, which runs the shelters.
Martin and his staff are among dozens of people working for nonprofits, faith groups, immigrant advocates and other groups that have stepped up to help migrants and are close to reaching a tipping point.
The shelter, which can comfortably hold 100 to 120, welcomed 190 people earlier this week — a record number nearly 29 years ago since the Homeless Opportunity Center was established, Martin said. “We don’t want to say no to anybody,” Martin said.
“We don’t want to see the kids outside. Even if we have to put the family in my office. I don’t care. We’ll find a way to make it work.”
Martin said that migrants who come to the shelter do not want to stay in El Paso and that staff members help them make travel arrangements. Although the shelter does not cover the costs, it is a process that involves many calls to relatives across the country, bus companies and airlines, and dealing with language barriers.
“We might get 30 on their way and all of a sudden, I’ve got 50 coming right behind them. We’ll never be able to catch up to this many,” Martin said.
As the days pass and the number of migrants continues to rise, Martin is uncertain about the shelter’s future and says he worries that he will have to make a decision that contradicts the mission of the shelter itself.
“The opportunity center is going to get to a point, and I think it could be in the next day or two, where we just don’t have the physical space to deal with them. And we’re going to have to say no.”
Shelters have reached capacity
Across the border in Ciudad Juárez, shelters quickly reached capacity even as more facilities opened in recent months. The shelters serve as a point of convergence between people who have been temporarily living in this border town for months after seeking asylum in the U.S. and being deported to Mexico, and those who arrived at the border in recent weeks and are awaiting the end of Title 42 exclusions.
Ingrid Matamoros and her family have been living in the Tierra de Oro church shelters in Juárez for almost six months. In Honduras, she managed to sell second-hand plus-size clothes while her husband ran a car dealership – but gang violence, extortion and threats left them fearing for their lives and the lives of their children, the 28-year-old mother says.
Matamoros says she went through stages of despair and shame at being so needy, and hopes to soon be processed and vetted for entry into the US with the support of sponsors.
“You wonder why other people cross and you don’t, why others have that opportunity and why there are people who waste their chances when people like us are in danger,” says Matamoros.
Families who traveled from other parts of Mexico, Guatemala and Ukraine spent the morning at the shelter setting up chairs, hanging Christmas lights and cooking food for the crew, a Mexican Christmas tradition that includes a re-enactment of Joseph and Mary’s search for the room in Bethlehem. Matamoros says it’s something that will make her two sons, ages 9 and 4, laugh and forget about their demoralizing journey.
“I want this to end soon. I want a stable home for my children to go to school, have a normal life, go to bed whenever they want and play or watch TV. I don’t want them to suffer anymore.”
‘It’s our turn to simply wait’
When Emir Eduardo Sanchez Mendez arrived on the south side of the banks of the Rio Grande, he dropped the metal tray of donuts on the ground and removed his socks before picking the tray up again. In a few seconds he managed to dip his feet into the icy water and step on the series of rocks that led him to American soil without dropping the tray.
He repeated this ordeal dozens of times a day, carrying pizza boxes, packages of water bottles and more knowing that he could not go further into the US because of his nationality.
A 30-year-old Venezuelan man was selling food and water to migrants lined up near the border wall in El Paso. Venezuelans were previously exempt from Title 42, but the Biden administration began applying it to them in October.
Sanchez Mendez wants to enter the US and find a job that will allow him to buy medicine for his mother, who suffers from psoriasis.
“It’s our turn to just wait and see what happens with us (Venezuelans). In the meantime, we’re working on this side of the border to survive,” said Sanchez Mendez, who has been in Juárez for about a week awaiting the end of Title 42.
He spends most of the day walking down a line of people, his voice echoing as he shouts “el agua, el agua se acaba” (water, the water is running out) trying to sell the bottles of water he and his friends bought together. It is their way to earn some money or as some Venezuelans say “buscar la moneda” to eat and one day continue their journey north.
CNN’s Catherine E. Schoichet and Priscilla Alvarez contributed to this report.
Is Title 42 still in effect September 2022?
In April 2022, the administration announced plans to end this policy, stating that it was no longer necessary given the current state of public health and the increased availability of tools to combat Covid-19.â
What does Title 42 have to do with immigration? Title 42 is a pandemic-related rule implemented by the Trump administration that allowed border officials to turn away migrants, even if they are seeking asylum.
When did Title 42 expire?
“Designation 42 expires on Dec. 21, and the reversal of the policy is likely to immediately increase migration flows as migrants adjust to the recent changes,” the Dec. 12 bulletin said. Migrants cross the US-Mexico border from Ciudad Juarez, Mexico on December 14, 2022.
Is Title 42 still active?
Ultimately, a federal judge ordered the Biden administration to stop using Title 42 by Dec. 21, saying it was “arbitrary and capricious.” The ruling followed a lawsuit by families seeking asylum in the US.
Who is affected by Title 42?
Title 42 applies not only to individuals crossing the border between ports of entry, but equally to individuals seeking asylum at ports of entry.
Is Title 42 still in effect today? On April 1, 2022, the Biden administration announced plans to end Title 42 by May 23, 2022.
What is Title 42 when it comes to immigration?
With the imminent removal of Title 42 — the pandemic-era restrictions that have blocked migrants from seeking asylum in the U.S. — the Department of Homeland Security (DHS) recently outlined the steps it will take at the U.S.-Mexico border if it is ordered lifted.
What does Title 42 allow the US to do?
Title 42 is a section of US law that deals with public health, social welfare, and civil rights. This gives the federal government the ability to take immediate action to prevent infectious diseases from entering the country.
What does Title 42 allow the US to do?
The name refers to Title 42 of the US Government Code, which was established on July 1, 1944 to give federal authorities the power to deny both people and products entry into the country to limit the spread of infectious disease.
What is the Title 42 policy at the border? First invoked by the Trump administration in March 2020 at the start of the coronavirus pandemic, Title 42 is a public health law dating back to the late 19th century that the federal government argued allows border officials to quickly deport migrants from the US to the basis that they can transmit the infection…
Can you cross the border illegally and seek asylum?
People who arrive at the US border have the right to claim asylum without being criminalized, returned, used for political stunts or separated from their children.
Is it illegal to cross the border and seek asylum? Elected officials and news outlets often mischaracterize those seeking asylum at the border as breaking the law or not seeking protection the right way.” However, under US law, a person seeking asylum can do so by arriving at the border and requesting to be screened by US officials at a ‘port of entry’ or by …
How do I seek asylum on the US border?
To make an affirmative or defensive claim for asylum, file Form I-589, Petition for Asylum and Withholding of Removal, within 1 year of your arrival in the United States. Visit our page on obtaining asylum in the United States for more information on affirmative and defense filings.
What happens if you cross the border illegally?
When a person is caught illegally crossing the border—legally known as trespassing—a first offense can include: A civil penalty of $50 to $250. Imprisonment for up to six months. Both fine and prison.
Can you apply for asylum if you enter the US illegally?
The fact that you are in the US illegally is not an obstacle to applying for asylum. You would either have to apply yourself (an “affirmative” application), within certain time frames, or if caught by immigration authorities, apply for asylum during an immigration court hearing.
