Casa del Migrante Field Trip

Our cohort at University of San Diego

Earlier in the semester, our cohort went on a field trip with our religions professor to Tijuana, Mexico to visit Casa del Migrante. It is a home, founded by the Catholic Church, where migrant men can stay after being deported from the United States. They are allowed to stay at the house for a maximum of twelve days where they are provided with shelter, meals, and temporary work opportunities. We were able to eat dinner with the approximately 180 men staying there and hear some of their stories.

Casa del Migrante

I ate dinner across from two men named Fernando and Jorge. Fernando had been living in the United States for twenty-eight years working as an auto mechanic. He lived with his wife and two children, both of whom are in high school, in the Los Angeles area. Both of his children were born in the United States, and are therefore, U.S. citizens. Fernando was drinking alcohol in public, got caught by the police, and was then deported. He had never done anything wrong before that. Earlier in the decade, he was in the process of filing paperwork to become a legal resident, but then 9/11 happened, and the process was halted. Fernando missed his wife and children very much, and with no family in Mexico, he knew that his only option was to cross the border to get back to his family. He wasn’t sure how he would cross, because he didn’t have the money to pay a coyote, but he knew in his heart that somehow he had to get back to his family, even though he was very scared about the journey back to them.

Jorge had been living in the United States for sixteen years and worked in construction. One day, ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) came to his work place, gathered up anyone who was undocumented, and deported them. He had no family in Mexico or the United States, but had some friends in the U.S. He said there was nothing for him in Mexico and he was planning on crossing the border the night after we ate with him. He didn’t have any money to pay a coyote to help him cross, but he said he had nothing to fear but God.

I don’t know the fate of these two men, because I was only able to have a momentary encounter with them. Almost all of the people my classmates and I spoke with that night were planning on crossing the border again, either because they had family on the other side or knew there were jobs to be filled. Because of this, they were willing to risk their lives to get back.

Sunset in Tijuana

Communion at the Border

The Border Fence at Friendship Park

Yesterday I took part in a spiritual event at the border between the United States and Mexico. The area near the ocean is called Friendship Park and is a place where people can gather on both sides of the fence, reunite with family, and possibly have a meal together. Buddhist meditation took place, and then communion was shared. The man who led communion said that we could take the tortilla (the body of Christ) through the fence as an act of civil disobedience, because it is illegal to pass things across the border. Most people who were there took communion in this way, through the fence.

I chose to take the body of Christ, illegally, through a fence that divides humanity. To me, that symbolizes what faith should be. I chose to do this to stand up for the many undocumented people who live in this country without a political voice: friends of mine, students I have taught, or unknown faces. I chose to do this for the people living on the other side of the border who experience a life of great inequality. I chose to do this for those that will cross the border in the future, risking their lives in the hope that the U.S. will provide an opportunity when they felt like they had no option in their own country. I chose to do this for those who have died trying to cross the border, a number that is sadly continuing to increase. The issue at hand is not one of legality as so many make it, but one of humanity. All of our stories overlap, and yesterday, I chose to take the body of Christ through the fence in solidarity with the many people whose stories don't often get heard. It was a small act in light of what many people do to fight injustice, but it was a small act with a bigger meaning.

Meditation on the U.S. Side

Meditation on the Mexican Side

The Body of Christ

The Blood of Christ

Communion Through the Fence

Communion Through the Fence

Communion at the Border