Thread: El Paso home gives immigrants a chance to rest

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El Paso home gives immigrants a chance to rest

BY BART JONES
Newsday Staff Correspondent

July 29, 2006, 9:39 PM EDT

EL PASO, Texas --
The first in a series of stories written about the front line of the immigration debate -- the U.S.-Mexico border.

Silvia crouched for hours in the current of the Rio Grande, hiding from "la migra" -- the U.S. Border Patrol.

As she intently marked their movements, her arms and legs fell asleep and she feared she might drown. "When you feel the water up to your chest and you feel it is going to take you away, it's very dangerous," the Mexico City native recalled recently in Spanish.

It took her three attempts during several days in late June to make it across. When she finally did, she hadn't eaten in two days, knew no one and had no place to go. But people she met in the streets told her about a place that seemed unbelievable: A residence run by compassionate "gringos" who would give her food, shelter and clothes.

Tired and afraid, she made her way downtown to Annunciation House, a run-down, nearly 100-year-old brick building in a drab barrio 10 blocks from the border.

Founded in 1978 by five Catholic lay people called by their faith to "welcome the stranger," organizers believe Annunciation House is the only center on the U.S.-Mexico border devoted specifically to housing undocumented immigrants shortly after their arrival in the United States. Many guests show up dazed, dehydrated, hungry and sick after walking for days in the desert. Others are still wet from crossing the Rio Grande.

"It's a huge help for those who come here with nothing," said Silvia, 44, who did not want her last name used because she is in the country illegally. "I never imagined it existed."

Though some community members praise Annunciation House's work and see its founder and executive director Ruben Garcia as something of a local saint, their work is not without controversy.

It is taking place amid heated debate throughout the country about illegal immigration, including legislation aimed at making presence in the United States without proper documentation and aiding undocumented immigrants crimes. Congressional leaders are holding hearings nationwide this summer about proposed reform legislation, while President George W. Bush is dispatching 6,000 National Guardsmen to the U.S.-Mexico perimeter to beef up enforcement efforts with the U.S. Border Patrol.

Church backs workers

In contrast, the Vatican and the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops have backed church workers' assistance to impoverished undocumented immigrants as part of their Christian duty. In March, Cardinal Roger Mahoney of Los Angeles declared he would instruct his priests to defy any law that would make such work illegal.

Like many other social service agencies in El Paso that serve undocumented immigrants, Annunciation House is generally left alone by the Border Patrol. Occasionally the agency even drops off migrants it has detained, said Garcia, 57, a former youth ministry director in the Diocese of El Paso.

Border Patrol spokeswoman Michele Leboeuf said the agency generally does not raid social service organizations because "we don't want to deprive people of nature's basic things they need -- food, shelter, clothing. We have a humanitarian side of things."

The relationship has not always been smooth. In February 2003, Juan Patrico Peraza Quijada, 19, a guest from Mexicali, Mexico, who was taking out the garbage at Annunciation House, was shot and killed by Border Patrol agents after they surrounded him and he fled. A grand jury that looked into the case decided not to return an indictment against the agent who shot him, but his death shocked El Paso. It was unclear why the agents showed up at the house.

House volunteers who come from across the country say that, despite widespread public anger regarding illegal immigration, they believe they are doing the right thing by aiding women, men and even children who break the law to cross the border.

"I strongly believe that what these people are doing shouldn't be illegal," said Dunya Cope, 23, a Georgetown University senior from Yankton, S.D., who is volunteering at the house this summer. "I think people have a right to make a better life for their families."

A felony offense

Under legislation passed by the House of Representatives in December, Annunciation's activities assisting undocumented immigrants would be classified as a felony punishable by up to five years in prison. Long-time volunteer Simon Chandler, an immigrant from England, said other laws already on the books also make workers there vulnerable to prosecution with similar possible prison time.

Last July, the U.S. Border Patrol arrested two volunteers from the faith-based group No More Deaths for transporting three migrants they said they found dehydrated in the Arizona desert to a hospital. Authorities charged Shanti Sellz and Daniel Strauss with transporting migrants who were in the country illegally. A trial is scheduled for Oct. 3.

To minimize their legal risks, Annunciation workers say they take guests only to places such as doctors' offices and not to sites such as bus or train stations that could be interpreted as "furthering" the migrants' entrance into the United States.

While many of the 600,000 residents of El Paso, which is three-fourths Latino, seem to support the group's work as a humanitarian gesture, opinions are divided as to whether the migrants should be allowed to remain in the United States.

"They're invading a place where they should not be," Gabriela Zatarain, 32, said in Spanish as she walked through downtown El Paso. "If they can come legally, it's better."

Garcia said the migrants would gladly come legally if the "broken" immigration system provided a legal channel for them, but it doesn't. Authorities and politicians "want to criminalize these people," he said. "We want to welcome them. I can't be Catholic and not be hospitable to the stranger in our midst."

Spreading the word

Annunciation House operates out of a triangular building donated by the Catholic Diocese of El Paso. It is on the fringes of El Segundo Barrio, El Paso's largest barrio. No sign identifies it, although for several months this year Garcia hung a large banner declaring, "No Human Being is Illegal." Most migrants hear about the place through word of mouth after entering the United States.

In the 1980s, the house took in refugees fleeing death squads and civil wars in Central America. It was part of the underground "sanctuary" movement that led to the prosecution of some religious activists for housing the migrants. Today, many guests are escaping poverty in Mexico and other Latin American nations.

When ones such as Silvia arrive, a volunteer offers them food, water and a change of clothes. Then they sit them down for a brief in-take interview to hear the basics of their story and ensure they are undocumented immigrants who don't qualify for any government services because of their immigration status.

Before long, the immigrants are wandering the halls of the expansive building, trading stories with other guests and finding companionship after an often-harrowing journey to El Norte.

A large mural of the Virgin of Guadalupe adorns one stairwell wall. Picnic benches and long tables line a stifling hot upstairs dining room. Beat-up sofas are spread around a spacious first-floor living room where residents watch a blaring television, make phone calls on a public phone bolted to the wall, or pass the hours talking.

They seem to bond easily, like survivors of a natural disaster just glad to be alive. The men put each other in playful headlocks; the women tend to children.

Daniel, a lanky 18-year-old from Nicaragua, tells of traveling on the top of trains for days through Mexico, falling asleep at one point and almost dropping to his death before he pulled himself back to safety. His father was with him during the trip and died.

When he arrived in Ciudad Juarez in mid-June, hungry and broke, he spent three nights sleeping near abandoned factories until he finally crossed into El Paso. That morning someone on the streets told him about Annunciation House.

The center typically houses 40 to 50 guests a night. The adults must cook, clean and help maintain the house. The men sleep in a first-floor dormitory-style room filled with bunk beds. The women and children sleep upstairs.

The volunteers, mainly college students or recent graduates, live in the house, too, in their own section. Besides comforting the guests, they organize a food pantry, hang donated clothes on hangers and take the immigrants on occasional outings to play soccer or go swimming in a public pool.

Most guests stay a week or two, and then set off for destinations throughout the country, often drawn by family or friends. Some make it and call back to the house to let workers know how they are doing. Others get caught by immigration officials and are sent home.

On Sunday mornings, a priest comes to the house to offer Mass in a small chapel. At the end of the service he asks anyone leaving that week to come forward for a blessing. The small congregation raises their palms toward them as part of the blessing, and the priest says a prayer, asking God's protection.

The volunteers who send them off receive no money their first year and must pay their own way to El Paso. Those who stay on for a second year get a stipend of $125 a month. By the third year it goes up to about $300 a month, and then another $25 a month every year after.

Organizers say they refuse permanent funding because they want to live as close as they can to the kind of precarious poverty that afflicts their guests. The center survives on donations sent from people who have heard about its work through word of mouth. It costs about $180,000 a year to operate Annunciation House and four other satellite houses it has opened in El Paso and Ciudad Juarez.

While Annunciation House offers hospitality to the stranger, eventually all guests must leave. Silvia, who said she fled abject poverty and a bad marriage and left behind two teenage daughters as well, wasn't sure where she would go next. One place that wasn't an option is Mexico, where she earned 500 pesos, or less than $50, a week selling juice on the streets for 12 hours a day.

"Who's going to survive on 500 pesos?" she asked.

Fine them, fine them all. Imprison them if you have to just stop this lunacy. You can't say don't come and then have welcoming arms awaiting their arrival.

You wouldn't get on an airplane, if there was no place to land.

Dixie

I like the part where they want to live in the same type of poverty.
I talked to an illegal in Colorado who told me he was making 2K a month.
I wish I lived in that kind of poverty.

"I strongly believe that what these people are doing shouldn't be illegal," said Dunya Cope, 23, a Georgetown University senior from Yankton, S.D., who is volunteering at the house this summer. "I think people have a right to make a better life for their families."

Ahhh!! The idealism of youth!!!! But, my dear, what they are doing IS illegal. Doesn't matter if you THINK it outta be or not!!!

Hey Ms. Cope, go work on the Indian Reservation near Yankton if you want people to have a better life.

Garcia said the migrants would gladly come legally if the "broken" immigration system provided a legal channel for them, but it doesn't. Authorities and politicians "want to criminalize these people," he said. "We want to welcome them. I can't be Catholic and not be hospitable to the stranger in our midst."

It does provide a LEGAL channel for them to come in. It's called apply for a visa and live with the quota laws. DUH!!!

One place that wasn't an option is Mexico, where she earned 500 pesos, or less than $50, a week selling juice on the streets for 12 hours a day.

"Who's going to survive on 500 pesos?" she asked.

Don't throw that poverty card in my face. What about our own homeless who can't even earn 500 pesos ($50.00) per week because of mental illness, despair, and "just plain can't find a job"?

I guess the part about this that absolutely blows my mind is that, because these people don't have to cross an ocean, they absolutely believe they have a right to be here.

I'm sorry if I sound hardhearted, but there are many, much more deserving people in the world than our "poor" neighbor to the south, who should have FIRST access to this country. People who suffer from genocide, severe religious persecution, etc.

It's this sense of entitlement, that absolutely makes me foam at the mouth

Hey Ms. Cope, go work on the Indian Reservation near Yankton if you want people to have a better life.

Absolutely CW or take a short trip from Georgetown to Appalachia. Heck for the matter right there in DC are some who could use help. You know, American citizens?

Silvia crouched for hours in the current of the Rio Grande, hiding from "la migra"

Why would she hide? Oh, that's right she is breaking the law.