A-Infos (en) US, Anarchist journal, Nor'easter #5 - Life and Death on the Border By HUNTER JACKSON

Paulino was from Puebla but had lived in the U.S. for seven years. After his mother died, 
he returned to Mexico for her funeral and then had to figure out how to get back to his 
life north of the border. He decided to bring with him his two youngest daughters, Arleta 
(age 9) and Jacquelin (age 14), who had been living with their grandmother. They began 
their walk through the brutal Sonoran Desert a few days before Jacquelin’s quinceañera 
(fifteenth birthday party), a major milestone in the life of many Mexican girls. Their 
pollero (guide) assured Paulino the trip would be quick and the girls would safely be with 
their mother in L.A. in time for the party. ---- As is often the case, the trip took much 
longer than expected. Days of walking up and down rocky trails in the extreme heat wore 
them all down, especially Jacquelin. She became sick and unable to keep up with the rest 
of the group. The pollero left the three of them behind. The next day, Paulino tried 
unsuccessfully to flag down a passing Border Patrol helicopter. He was considering 
starting a brush fire to get some attention when we ran into him.

They were miles from any road, in the middle of the desert, and Jacquelin was not doing 
well. She had turned 15 the day before, but their circumstances diminished the 
significance of the event. That July afternoon it was 110 degrees in the shade. 
Unfortunately, there is very little shade in the desert.

It was my first day volunteering with No More Deaths, an organization based in Tucson that 
provides direct humanitarian aid to people crossing the border in southern Arizona. We had 
set out early that morning, the dangerous sun still low in the sky, to patrol the remote 
trails that crisscross the desert and lead literally thousands of people into the United 
States every day.

Each group of volunteers has at least one Spanish speaker and someone with medical 
training. Our medic tried to cool down Jacquelin’s overheated body and gave her water. 
Luckily, Jacquelin was in good shape — in Puebla she had been a soccer star. It did not 
take much to restore her strength and energy. Armed with several gallons of water, food 
and packets of electrolytes, the three set off to continue their journey north as the sun 
started to set behind the stark stone mountains to the west.

During the time I have spent volunteering with No More Deaths over the last two years, I 
have met many other people on the trails. Everyone has had a different story, a different 
reason they were risking their lives to cross the desert on foot. Many (like Paulino and 
his daughters) have families already in the U.S. that they are trying to join. Others 
leave their homes to come work for a few years, save some money and then go back. Some 
came to the U.S. when they were small children, lived here their whole lives and were 
deported. They may not speak Spanish or know anyone in the country that the U.S. 
government sends them back to. They are seen as “illegal” in the place they call home.
For the last five summers, No More Deaths has operated a remote camp about 12 miles north 
of the official border, near the town of Arivaca, Ariz. Hundreds of people from all over 
the country have volunteered over the years to help run the camp, some for a week, others 
for months. Each morning and afternoon small groups hike some of the most trafficked 
trails that funnel people north toward Tucson. Volunteers carry gallons of water, 
first-aid kits, clean socks and food packs.

Some days we encounter groups of up to 30 people who take our water and socks and keep 
going. We also see smaller groups or lone walkers who have been separated from their 
groups, which can be extremely treacherous for someone unfamiliar with the desert. 
Sometimes they want to keep going, sometimes they want to go back to Mexico so they can go 
home or try again later. Occasionally, we find sick or injured people in serious danger 
who need to be evacuated by ambulance or helicopter.

Usually, however, we see more signs of people than the people themselves. Fresh 
footprints, empty water bottles, food wrappers, apple cores still yellow. Backpacks, hats, 
shirts, shoes. Toothbrushes, underwear, lipstick, children’s toys. The trails are littered 
with thousands of pieces of thousands of lives, scattered across the ground in the most 
inexplicable ways. We can sometimes sense their presence, but if they don’t want to be 
found, we won’t find them. It’s better that way — it means they don’t need help.

The border passes through one of the most brutal landscapes on the continent: thousands of 
square miles of harsh, dry, rocky desert inhabited by rattlesnakes, scorpions, vultures, 
coyotes, tarantulas and innumerable spiky, spiny plants that slice through any exposed 
skin. Armed bandits roam the desert trails, preying on migrants. Sometimes they work in 
collusion with the polleros, who lead groups straight into ambushes where everyone is 
robbed of all the money they are carrying to pay for their journey. Women are routinely 
raped, their bras and underwear left dangling from tree branches like trophies. Border 
Patrol abuse is all too common.

The border makes people invisible. By pushing migrants away from populated areas and out 
into remote desert, the border prevents most of us from witnessing and understanding the 
violence and brutality inherent in the U.S. immigration system — and in borders in 
general. People walk under cover of darkness, far from roads and houses, sometimes for 
five or six or more nights. When they encounter bandits or Border Patrol, there are no 
witnesses. When people (or a father and his two daughters) are left behind — or when they 
die — no one knows where to look. Most bodies are never recovered, making the official 
count (183 in Arizona last year) a gross underestimate. And when they reach their 
destinations in the U.S., migrants are often expected to remain in the shadows, on the 
margins.

No More Deaths helps make the border real to those of us who have never had to cross it. 
It ceases to be a line on a map or a wall that people have to devise a way around and 
becomes a place, a region, a system. It transcends politics and books, theories and 
debates. It’s about life and death, humanity and dignity. It is about people who have been 
made invisible, each with their own vibrant stories and histories and dreams, walking for 
days through that unforgiving, inhospitable landscape. Spending time out in the desert 
helps make them visible to us.

The work of No More Deaths does not end when we leave camp — the border exists and 
expresses itself in other ways farther north. It divides cities, neighborhoods and 
neighbors. It is the hazardous working conditions, minimum-wage violations and the extreme 
lack of security that comes from the jobs so many immigrants find when they arrive in the 
U.S. It is the fear to report police abuse, go to the hospital or fight an eviction. It is 
the stereotyping and discrimination still faced by brown people who have been in this 
country for generations. All systems of oppression rely on the dichotomies that are 
created by borders — queer/straight, man/woman, legal/illegal, us/them. The border is 
everywhere, but most people think they have never seen it.

In order to seriously fight the wall that supposedly separates the U.S. from Mexico, we 
must also fight these other borders. The most obvious inland manifestations of the border 
are the ICE raids on homes and workplaces that terrorize immigrant communities and destroy 
families. Across the country, groups have been forming and organizing to fight the raids. 
Many cities now have hotlines that people can call for emergency advice if they think ICE 
is in the area. In other places — like San Francisco, Rhode Island and Watsonville, Calif. 
— people have created rapid response networks, phone trees used to mobilize people who are 
able to challenge, disrupt or publicize immigration raids. Other similar projects are in 
the works elsewhere.

Borders are integral to the functioning of capitalism, a system based on division and 
exploitation. Every day we have the opportunity to confront the oppressive, violent, 
hateful reality that results, be it by making the desert safer for people on their way to 
the U.S. or by challenging the power dynamics in our interpersonal relationships. No More 
Deaths is just one avenue through which we can take action to help bring about a 
borderless world; others are created daily. All are essential.
_________________________________________
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