At U.S.-Mexico border, one migrant's journey is intersecting with pope's
JUAREZ, Mexico — Daniel Melgar left San Pedro Sula, Honduras, in September, fleeing poverty, gangs and an abject future just as thousands of Central Americans before him over the past few years.
For almost five months, he jumped trains, worked odds jobs and lived place-to-place in small towns. He earned enough money to buy food and occasional bus fare until he arrived in Juarez, just across the border from the place he longs to be — the United States.
“I had serious problems with (the Mara Salvatrucha or MS-13 gang). They wanted to recruit me ... and I did not want to join,” he said. “Then they started looking for me at my house and threatening my family. That’s why I cannot stay. I have no home in Honduras.”
The 24-year-old said his country offered little economic prospects, not nearly enough to help care for his 4-year-old son and his elderly father. San Pedro Sula also has one of the highest murder rates in the world.
So he left his son behind with his estranged wife and set off for the U.S.
Now he finds himself in limbo at the Catholic Diocese of Juarez's Migrant House, plotting his next move in his journey, a journey that has brought him into an unlikely intersection with the first Latin American pope, Pope Francis. Melgar will be one of 100 migrants from the shelter who will attend, at the pope’s request, the highly symbolic papal Mass near the U.S.-Mexico border on Wednesday evening.
“He acknowledges us migrants, and I’m thankful that he also speaks out on our behalf,” Melgar said. “Hopefully, that way he’ll touch hearts in the United States, and they’ll want to help us too.”
Immigration is expected to take center stage throughout the ceremony, which will include a moment of prayer on the banks of the Rio Grande. The prayer will honor the migrants who have lost their lives and those, like Melgar, still seeking a better future on the other side.
“It’ll be one of the most magical and beautiful moments. And migrants can sense that,” the Rev. Javier Calvillo said.
Calvillo is the director of the shelter in Juarez, which provides food, clothing and a safe place to sleep for several days until people there make other arrangements.
On Tuesday morning, Calvillo placed several worn-out shoes left behind by migrants at the foot of the cross Pope Francis will approach Wednesday. The gesture was a clear nod to their difficult journeys.
“This is an area where many immigrants passed through and where many died,” the priest added. “The pope will pray for those migrants, and for those that are already in the United States, locked up in prisons or suffering though (immigration) raids, as well as for everything Central Americans face in Mexico.”
It’s a prayer that Melgar will take to heart. He said he wants to cross the border once the pope leaves, but doesn’t know how yet. His plan is to get to New Orleans, where he heard there are many jobs.
But even if he’s caught, he said he won’t give up hope and will file for asylum.
“It doesn’t matter where I end up, as long as it’s the United States,” he said. “It doesn’t have to be New Orleans, it doesn’t matter if it’s in Arizona, as long as it’s the United States. I just want to work.”
But there are many reminders here that things don’t always turn out well for those who continue on to the U.S.
Just outside a shelter, an older man wearing dark, heavy clothing and a beanie approached the facility timidly. He had just been deported the day before after crossing with a group through Laredo, Texas. He had come from the Durango state of Mexico.
“We walked for eight days,” he said, not offering his name. “It was cold ... we were numb but we kept walking to stay warm, and kept, just kept going.”
Eventually agents found and detained him for 15 days, he said, before deporting him to Juarez. He has no food, no money, no options.
The older man finally walked inside the shelter with one thing on his mind, eating.
After three attempts to get to the U.S. he acknowledged it’s probably not worth the effort. Instead, he will go back home.
His reality clashes with the hopes and aspirations of migrants like Melgar staying at the shelter. That contrast plays out daily here and along the U.S.-Mexico border.
Follow Rafael Carranza on Twitter: @RafaelCarranza