In early January 1981 I was arrested at El Paso, TX International Airport, accused of being a human smuggler.
I had arrived late in 1977 in L.A. crossing illegally the Tijuana-San Diego border, during a trip that lasted three days walking through the mountains and rough terrain of California. The same trip takes only three hours by car. I had worked hard in construction for three years, and I missed my family and friends I had left in Mexico. In Dec 1980 I decided to go back for Christmas and New Year.
This was an abrupt decision, very irresponsible and risky, especially because I had my wife and my three year old daughter with me. I was twenty-eight years old. An immature decision for sure, but even now that I'm a 'mature' person, I keep making big mistakes. Besides my wife and my daughter, a friend of mine from the same town joined us; he was also illegal in the USA.
We spent two great weeks in Mexico. When it was time to return, my friend had decided to bring his girlfriend and their three-year- old daughter with him, we were now six people. My cousins in El Paso helped us cross the border. In those days, if you didn't look too suspicious, you could easily get to the other side by showing your California driver's license and just saying, 'American Citizen'.
We drove in two cars, we were decently dressed, or so I thought. We had to wait at the airport terminal for an hour before our flight departed. They called our flight number and got in line to board the plane. Before we entered the plane two men stopped me and asked to see my passport, and when they learned that I was an illegal alien, they went to get the rest of my group, which were already in the plane.
Still at the airport, they took us to different rooms for questioning. The INS agents (Immigration and Naturalization Service) concluded that I was the leader. They labeled me as a 'coyote' or a smuggler. A grave crime, punished by jail time and deportation. If I was convicted for that crime I could never apply for legal citizenship. The agent that interrogated me said the way I dressed denounced my legal status. He said they noticed I was a Mexican from a mile away. He also said that my wife and my daughter looked very American and that if they had been by themselves nobody would have bothered them.
By the way, I was wearing a thick blue vest, bell-bottom dark blue jeans and a pair of brand new, brown boots. So I guess they were right.
They released my wife and everybody else. They sent them to Juarez, the neighboring city on the Mexican side. The INS agent said I needed to post a bail bond for twenty five hundred dollars to be set free and I still needed to come back and see a judge for my sentencing. They said I had a chance to apply and possibly become a legal temporary resident, but my chances were minimal. My wife called a sister of mine and she sent the money.
My friend and his family went to Tijuana to try for a second chance.
Before I made this trip to Mexico I had injured my right wrist while working in construction. I was taking antibiotics because it became infected. I had a purple, black and reddish lump that obviously required medical attention. The infection was disappearing, but as soon as I stopped taking the antibiotics, the infection returned.
The detention camp was like a vacation complex, compared to jails in Mexico. It even had a soccer field, in which I spent most of the day playing soccer. The vast majority of the detainees were Mexicans, but next to the camp. and separated only by a chain link fence were a few hundred Cuban men. In those days Fidel Castro had announced that anybody who wanted to leave the island could do so, due to a tough economy in Cuba, an exodus by boats started shortly afterwards. Later they discovered that a number of those exiles were released from Cuban jails and mental health facilities. They used to call them 'los marielitos' because they had come from Mariel harbor. Political prisoners, intellectuals, artists and writers that criticized the government. Homosexuals were included in that group. In those days, Castro's regime considered homosexuality a mental illness. Poet Reinaldo Arenas, who openly admitted his homosexuality was also included in Mariel's boat lift
The film Before the Night Falls, with Javier Bardem was based on Reinaldo's biography.
For the ten days that I was there, I saw many Mexicans constantly harassing those Cubans, calling them horrible names like, 'commies', Castro's illegitimate sons', 'Cuba's scum' and worse. I felt bad for my ignorant Mexican brothers, but I felt even worse for my Cuban brothers. They couldn't understand where all that hostility and hatred came from.
When my wrist infection became worse, I asked an INS agent if I could see the nurse. He said I was exaggerating because he saw me spend all my days playing soccer. After I told him that I played soccer with my feet not with my hands, he reluctantly agreed to let me see the nurse. Another agent took me in an official immigration green van to a clinic outside the camp. On our way there, we kept talking about my situation, and he said I had a good chance to become a legal resident. He recommended me to explain my case to the judge.
After the doctor saw me, and only hours before my wife posted my bail, they released me without any charges. I guess they didn't want to be responsible for a costly surgery or for a 'future amputee' to place a legal demand against the INS.
My cousins then took us all the way to Las Vegas airport and from there we took a plane to Los Angeles. I'm still waiting to win the lottery, so I can pay all the favors my cousins did for us back then.
In 1986, and thanks to President Reagan's Amnesty plan, we applied for temporary residency status. They accepted us. In 1996, we became proud citizens of the United States of America.
EDMUNDO BARRAZA
Visalia, CA. 05-25-2012
http://edbar1952-accomplishedignorant.blogspot.com/
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