End of Amnesty for War Crimes in El Salvador

On Wednesday, July 13, El Salvador’s Supreme Court declared unconstitutional the nation’s Amnesty Law, passed in 1993. The law–passed in 1993, just five days after the El Salvador Truth Commission published a report that investigated the intellectual authors of war crimes carried out during the long civil war–granted immunity from prosecution to the perpetrators of such crimes.

The law protected the masterminds behind these crimes, the military, paramilitary groups, and guerrilla groups, from prosecution. This was touted as necessary in order for the country to move forward with the Peace Accords and end the civil war. Yet in 2013, the Inter-American Court of Human Rights declared the amnesty law invalid based on international law, which states that there can never be amnesty for genocide or crimes against humanity. But until this week the law was still in effect in El Salvador. Now, the perpetrators of those crimes can finally be brought to justice in El Salvador.

As long as the perpetrators of genocide and mass murder have amnesty, the path of justice remains blocked. How can citizens feel safe when the very masterminds behind massacres and attacks during El Salvador’s bloody civil war have a seat in the new, post-war government, with no accountability for their crimes? Striking down the amnesty law may give El Salvador a new chance to seek justice and healing and move forward from its gruesome past. The path to reconciliation is not easy. But perhaps bringing the criminals to justice can clear the path toward a better future.

Yet while El Salvador is addressing the problem of impunity by repealing the amnesty, another nation’s impunity remains unaddressed. Will the United States ever be held accountable for its role in the mass murder and political repression in El Salvador and across Latin America? Not only did the CIA assist in ousting left-leaning political leaders in El Salvador and across the continent in the name of “democracy,” but the U.S. also provided military training to the very military leaders that committed massacres across Central America at the U.S. Army School of the Americas. Even if the army leaders in El Salvador who planned crimes such as the 1981 El Mozote massacre, where the Salvadoran military killed over 1,000 people, are brought to justice, when will the members of the CIA and the U.S. government who trained and supported these military men ever be held accountable for their role in the crimes?

I believe that the most important way that the U.S. can ever make amends for its involvement in war crimes such as these is to never let it happen again. Instead of allowing the CIA to continue toppling leftist leaders with impunity and training military leaders from other countries in techniques of torture and dirty war, the United States needs to close the School of the Americas (now known as the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation), stop trying to control Latin American nations for the U.S.’s own financial benefit, and let those nations choose their own paths, wherever they may lead. Then, we can close a bloody, ugly chapter in our own history and move toward international reconciliation and justice.

See here and here for more on the amnesty law (links in Spanish). 


Rethinking the Migrant Crisis: A Passover Reflection

This week is the Jewish holiday of Passover, when Jews remember when we were slaves in Egypt and when we crossed the sea to freedom. We are also reminded that after escaping Egypt, we wandered in the desert for forty years, refugees from Egypt and unable to return to our own homeland. The Torah commands Jews, “Welcome the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” As a Jew, I find Passover an especially important time to recognize the issues of today’s migrants and refugees.

The European migrant crisis has been all over the news for months. Over a million migrants entered Europe in 2015, provoking a crisis in European nations that didn’t know how or didn’t want to resettle so many people at once.

Starting almost two years ago, the mass migration of Central American refugees, including a huge proportion of minors, through Mexico to attempt to cross into the U.S. at the U.S.-Mexico border was termed a migrant crisis in the United States. The United States has perennially viewed Mexican and Central American immigration as a crisis, an invasion, or a threat.

Yet little has been done to theoretically connect these two migrant crises, which are quite similar on a rhetorical level. The receiving nations find themselves in crisis when they receive an influx of unapproved migrants seeking refuge. But rather than turning to racist and orientalist fear-mongering or pitting Syrians against Central Americans for a small number of refugee spots in some kind of refugee competition, this moment could be used to provoke reflection on the idea of the migrant crisis, and what the response should be. What is the real crisis?

The real crisis is not that, with such high numbers of migrants reaching Europe, European countries do not know what to do with them. Nor is the real crisis high numbers of people crossing into the United States, undocumented. The real crisis is violence, poverty, and unlivable conditions in Syria and Central America forcing people to leave their homes in the first place. And the resulting uproar and nativism in the receiving nations is not a crisis of lack of resources as much as lack of human feeling toward refugees and migrants.

Some commentators have suggested that the U.S. would better keep out Syrian migrants seen as potential terrorists or orientalized Islamic others. That Central American refugees are all criminals or job stealers. These ugly responses to a genuine crisis of people being forced to leave their native lands evidence, perhaps more than anything else, fear. Time and again, conservatives invoke the threat of losing American (or European) culture to outside invaders who come as refugees but are incapable of assimilation. To these fears of the original culture being lost, I say: influx of different cultures makes our own community that much the richer, that much more creative, that much more vibrant. Culture is always hybrid, always changing. There is no one American Culture, static and unchanging. Change is what makes our society vibrant.

Rather than giving in to fear of change, which is inevitable and valuable, we should embrace love over fear, and embrace migrants rather than sending them away. Of course, given that America is a settler colonialist nation to begin with–we are almost all migrants–the country certainly has no right to reject new immigrants. But even aside from that, accepting refugees should never be in question. It is a moral imperative, when someone is fleeing for his or her life, to give shelter. Instead of using the migrant crisis as a platform to create a further sense of nationalism and impending doom, world leaders should use these crises to take a stand for brotherhood and remember the responsibility we all have as human beings toward our fellow humans. Migrants are people. Those of us who are privileged, who have more, who live in peace and relative safety, have a responsibility to share with people who have less. When someone comes to your door, unable to return home because they might die, it is your moral responsibility to accept them. Provide refuge. Do not turn away the stranger. Europeans would do well to remember this when Syrians come, and Americans would do well to remember this when Mexicans and Central Americans come.

Migration crises should not be crises for the receiving nations. Rather than turning to fear and hatred of others, we should take these migration crises as opportunities for us to love our neighbors, for us to live up to high moral values, for us to make ourselves proud, for following the just and right path. My religion, Judaism, tells me, “Welcome the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Israel.” But I think anyone of morals, whatever his or her religion, could stand by this statement. We should embrace love over fear, and embrace migrants rather than sending them away. Migrants are people. Not numbers. And they deserve to be treated as such.


“And by a miracle, I arrived”: Interview with Juan Carlos del Cid, Part Two

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Juan Carlos del Cid arrived to the United States from Guatemala in 1976, undocumented. Now he is a U.S. citizen and has lived here for longer than he lived in Guatemala. Last Monday, I published the first part of his story, how he came to the city of Los Angeles. This is the second part of his story, about his life in the United States. Juan Carlos’s story is not one of pure success, but it is a story of struggle and change for a better life. Everyone has the ability to change for the better, and everyone deserves the opportunity to do so. When the media and politicians spread stereotypes and prejudices about migrants, I choose to share this story with the hope that it shows the reality of the life of one real person who has been an immigrant.

Marjorie: You told me that you went to classes to learn English, right?

Juan Carlos: Yes. You want the other part, from here? Okay. I came here, and on the third day, where I arrived, my sister and I lived in a two-story house that was divided into apartments. And all the people who lived there were from my country, from Guatemala. From other parts of Guatemala I met them, and we were good friends. There was a man who lived there downstairs, we called him tío [uncle]. Everyone called him that. Because he lived with some nephews. The mother was married to the brother. And they called him tío, we all called him tío. His name was Abraham. I remember tío Abraham. And he’s a really good person, he said, “If you want I’ll talk to the manager. My sister was from Guatemala,” he said. And I tell him, “For what?” He worked in Jack in the Box. And, he took me and interviewed me. I had only been there for two days. And they gave me a job. And I remember that he told me not to park my car in the parking lot, because it was for the customers. And me, I told him, “I don’t even have a car!” I tell him. “Yes, but very soon you’re going to have one,” he told me. “You’re going to have a car. Here in the United States, a car isn’t a luxury, like in our country. It’s a necessity.” And I got the job, there it was, and I started to work graveyard. From 12 at night to eight in the morning I worked, for a year.

But when I started working, my sister, who lived there, urged me to go to school. And when I wanted to go to school for the first time, I was coming from work, and I had to go home. I was working in Santa Monica, I had to pass all of Beverly Hills, Olympic, before getting to Vermont I had to get off and walk a block to get to the house. And I get to the house when a minivan from Immigration goes by, it was there. And I was scared. At that time, when I arrived, Immigration went to the stops and would pick people up and take them away.

M: At bus stops [paradas de buses]?

J: At bus stops. In that time it was… Now, today yes, we’re living well now. Because there are a lot of immigrants and the migra doesn’t bother us now. Only if you do something bad, no? Before no, before, you came and if they looked at your appearance, they asked you for your papers, and if you didn’t have papers, they’d take you away. They went on the buses saying, “Papers?” “I don’t have them.” And the van would arrive. That is, they were hidden and they came like that, undercover, and they stopped you and they took you away. And I was scared that they were going to take me, that’s why I didn’t go to school. Because I had the school called Evans, which is over on Sunset, near downtown. Because that school at that time, they said it was a good school to learn English. And during the daytime. And I didn’t go.

But I started to learn English at work. And I was never embarrassed. I worked for a year on graveyard. Then, after a year they changed the manager, and the new manager told me that I would work during the day. And I started to work in the daytime. I was a cook and I was one of the best hamburger makers there. And so, I wanted to be a manager. Well, I had to learn English. My English was completely terrible. Because people talked to me in English at work, I wasn’t a cook anymore. Now I was on register. And I would say to myself, “Huh? Huh?” I was stuck, “Huh?”

M: So they put you on register without…

J: Yeah. Because they needed people. I knew the product but, well? And back then there weren’t registers like the ones they have now, digital, they were mechanical. I don’t know if you’ve seen them, but you can imagine what they were like. They were registers like that. So, I started to go to Los Angeles High School.

M: Oh, my mom went there too! L.A. High. That’s where my mom went to high school.

J: I went, but I went at night. To Los Angeles. But, I already knew a little bit of English. And when I arrived, they tested my English, and they told me, you’re ready for level third. But when I went to the third, everyone was ahead of me. I didn’t go again. I left, I didn’t want to go any more. So I said, me, no. And I came back and signed up again about a year later, but I signed up for the first level. In the first level I was like everyone else, and I started to stand out, to get ahead, to get ahead. I went through first, second, third grade, and from there I changed. I’m talking about some two years, three years. Because sometimes I went, sometimes I didn’t go, things, the girlfriend, you know, and then I stopped going. But one time I told myself, “You are going to finish this.” And I was already working as a manager in a Jack in the Box in Studio City, Laurel Canyon. So, I said, “I’m going to go to school.” And I found a school that’s there, in the center of Los Angeles on Union, near Wilshire, and I started going. And I met a really good teacher. She was from Asia, Asian, and her name was Suzy Wang. And I liked how she taught so much. She was so special at teaching English that I started to get English really quickly with her. She helped me to get the fourth, fifth level, until I graduated. Then, I had laboratory, and when I graduated from laboratory they sent me to the college. I had to go to college, Los Angeles City College, but during that time I met the woman who was my wife. She got pregnant, and I had to work. And yes, I could have done a lot.

But that English that I learned, I became assistant manager at Jack in the Box. And they gave me a store in South Central. And then, they robbed me four times in two weeks. Five times.

M: In the store?

J: In the store. And with every person that arrived, my legs were shaking.

So, my sister knew a man from El Salvador, at that time, and I told him, “You know what, I want to work on cars. Even if it’s washing cars. Because I don’t want to work over there. Even if they pay me minimum.” And anyone who earned minimum wage spent more than that. “I don’t care. I want to wash cars, park cars. Tell me if there’s an opportunity,” I tell him. And exactly. Two weeks later, he told me, “There’s an opportunity. Come. But come with me to learn, the mechanics.” I was working at night, and in the morning he took me to the dealer. A Ford dealer. And after two weeks, they gave me the job. I was so tired one day that I got in a van they were repairing, it didn’t have an engine, and I fell asleep. And the nephew showed up, who worked there, and he had a friend. The nephew was in L.A. High School. And he was a porter, you what a porter is? The person who drives cars and washes cars at the dealer. It was his best friend, he was working. But they’d given the job to me, of lube man. The one who does oil changes. And he said, “Uncle, uncle, why did you give the job to him if my friend is right here?” He told him, “Don’t worry. He’s very stupid, he’s really bad. Two weeks. Not even one month, and he’s out of here, and then he’s gonna get the job.” It hurts my feelings. I hear everything. And I said, “No. Uh-uh.” And I started to work. Because they put me in between a black guy and a white guy. The black guy didn’t want to help me. And the white guy, I became friends with him. And he said to me, “You don’t know anything? Don’t worry. I’ll help you.” I remember. Son of Italians. And he started, “You do this like this.” I started to learn, I started to do it, little by little by little. And when the black guy started getting jealous, that’s when he started helping me. He helped me after that, and I made friends with him. I had a lot of trust in him and everything.

At that time, I was earning by commission, per hour. But I stayed until twelve at night working. I got ahead on the work for the next day, so I was making a lot of money. I started making $13.50 an hour, which was a lot at that time. But a new owner arrived. The same owner, his wife took over the business, and said, “Uh-uh, he’s making a lot. We’re going to pay him according to what they’re all making.” And then, my average, I was making like $17.70 an hour. And when they gave the raise, I was making more than a mechanic. A real mechanic. I go, wow. Everyone was jealous, but no, it was the law. But, I’m a person who, I never give.

So then, the rich people started coming. And nobody wanted to do the rich people because they paid too little. That’s why I give thanks to God that I went to school. I didn’t know what it was, that they did for the rich people, but I read the instructions. And I go step by step. Boom. Done deal. I put them together, I did the service. And then, next one, with the eyes closed. And like that, little by little. And then, the guy who was the nephew of the man who got me the job, he didn’t want to do the work of replacing mufflers. So I took the mufflers job. And the Cadillac convertibles. Since it was hard and it paid little, he gave it to me. But later on, Ford, it changed. Because it was all warranty. They changed the prices. And instead of what it was, it raised up. But they left it to me, and I was expert at doing that. And so, the rich people with the Cadillac convertibles came, and me, oooh, I was making money. And I started like that, I started to get experience. The managers realized that the transmission people didn’t want to do it, they don’t wanna use their machine to exchange fluids, cause they want to pull it apart so they can upsell. But I said, no. So the manager said, “You want that job? It’s yours. Read the instructions, and you’ll do it easy.” And I started to do it, and after that I started doing everything. They gave me assistants and everything. Well, because I started to read. And all the English. That’s why I went to school. And I could interpret, I could read.

Okay, so when they sent me, they sent me to… because the Ford dealer decided that everyone who worked on their cars had to be certified. Boom, they sent me to school. And it gives me a surprise, that there were Americans who didn’t know how to write. When I arrived, I was the only Hispanic. But, my accent, sometimes it was hard, but I could read, and I could write. So they saw that. To stay in class, you have to take a quiz of ten questions. And to be able to stay you have to answer nine of them. Less, they send you back to the dealer. I started, boom, boom, perfect. I started to work, I started my school, and I graduated. And I’m certified for about 18 different courses. Electrical, computer, but I can’t work anymore. Because I hurt my arm. I was going to be a master technician. All of that because I went to school. And I learned in English.

M: What happened to your arm?

J: I had an accident. I had a brand new truck, I got it from Ford, and in 2005, the last day of 2005, December 31st, I was on the freeway going to the dealer and it was raining, and the car lost control and it’s spinning and spinning and I’m trying to, I don’t wanna hit another car, right? So, I thought that, to approach the wall, it would be okay. No, I hit the wall like 100 miles per hour. Booom. Straight ahead. Nothing happened to me, only my arm. But after that I couldn’t work. Now I’m fine, I’m good, but in that time my hand wouldn’t respond. I couldn’t lift nothing, and you know, working on cars. I had to lift the cars. I couldn’t work anymore.

And also because, well, I was earning a lot of money, and just like good things arrived, bad things arrive. One time they gave me cocaine to try, and I became addicted. I had a house, like three blocks away from here. I lost my house, I lost my children. I lost everything. That’s why I became a Christian, and God gave me another opportunity. Because I lost everything. I also won, but I lost a lot. Because when you have money, and they give you something to try, and all that because of what I told you, I’m like that, before and now. Because I did a favor for someone, he wanted to pay me with that, “Do you like it?” “I’ve never tried it.” “No?” And you know. I tried it, and he told me, “I have it, whenever you want.” And I liked the feeling, and after–before I didn’t drink. I started to drink at the age of 27. And 20 years passed before I stopped. Now it’s been nine years since God saved me. Because I believe in God. God is great. That’s why, now, I serve God. And I don’t forget it. And in Uber, I talk about God a lot. I don’t have to talk, but I talk.

And, when they saw the change in my life, because my family was… Do you know the word desahuciado [a lost cause]? They had already left me for dead. They had gotten rid of me. Because I arrived at a stage in my life, low, low, low. They were waiting for prison, hospital, or death. So, when I converted to Christianity, that is, the Gospel that is the good news of salvation, and giving us a new life. So, I believed in the word of God. And he changed me into a new person. Something that I am, really. When my family saw my change, I started to talk to them about God. And, my mother came, she started to come with me to the church I was going to. She was Catholic, she went to the Catholic church, and yes, now she comes with me to the evangelical church. She believed, and she converted. My sister believed, and she converted. My daughters believed, and they converted. So now we are all Christians. We believe in God more. That is, we believe in one God, creator of all things, and we don’t believe in images.

What else can I tell you?

M: Well, I think you said that sometimes – you have papers now, right? You’re a citizen?

J: Yes.

M: And you said that sometimes, you go to Tijuana to help –

J: Oh, yes, as part of the church. In the church, we like to serve. We have what they call, I don’t say religion, because for us it isn’t religion, it’s service and adoration of God. So, we serve God by serving our neighbors. So, a sister, we call the people of the congregation brothers and sisters, well, I went to a convention of the churches. And, what they taught, they taught me that, like Uncle Sam said – what did he say? What we can do for me?

M: Oh, JFK said, “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for…” what was it?

J: Ah, John F. Kennedy said it? Okay, that’s what he said. So, it’s the same. Don’t ask yourself what God can do for you, but ask yourself, what can you do for God? Well, they used that, and I ask myself. They said, when we got back, to ask our pastors, what can we do? How can we help, in what area? And in the airport, in Los Angeles, here, I asked my pastor, “What can I do for you?” He tells me, we have to pray. Before a month was up, he called me, he asked me, “Would you like to be in charge of the van?” The transportation. And I told him yes. I like to drive. And I started to give rides to the brothers. House by house, to pick them up and take them to church. And then, since I was in charge of the church, one sister told me she wanted to go to Tijuana. She needed the van, because there was a church where there’s a lot of need, there are a lot of brothers and sisters who have been caught by the migra, and they’re living there now. Many of them want to go to their homes, and many want to return [to the U.S.]. First, we go to bring them food, we go to bring them clothes. But the main thing, we go to bring them the bread of life, which is the word of God. And yes, I went many times. Right now we aren’t going, but yes, I went many times to help there. Maybe five times. Now we’ve stopped because another church took over. But if they call me, yes, I want to go help out there.

If they left me there without GPS, I would get lost. Into the deep, the center of Tijuana where the poor of Tijuana are. And there we found people who, brothers, children of pastors, who are there, who are illegal here, and they get taken away. And there they are. They don’t have anything, so they stay there. And yes, I really like to help people. Because of God, that from grace you received, from grace we are going to give. Like God helped you, you have to help others.

M: Exactly.

J: And you know, when I worked in Jack in the Box, as a manager, I helped a lot of people. Sometimes they came to look for work. I would say to them, “Sure, you’re from Mexico?” “Yes, I’m from Mexico. I just got here.” I remember when I had just gotten here and they helped me. “I’m going to say that you are my brother.” And he was a Mexican, I was from Guatemala. And I said to them, “Come on, let’s go.” I gave them a job. I helped a lot of people, a lot, because someone helped me, he opened the doors of the United States to me, and look, here I am. I have papers, here I am, thank God I can travel. I can go to anywhere in the world, and I can come back here. A lot of people can’t go. Look, how good is God with me that many people long to be near their mother. They’re on the other side, they can’t go, they don’t have papers. Look, I have papers, and I have my mother here. Yes, because God is good. Because God has blessed me. Because I have everything here. My mom isn’t here right now, she’s with my daughters, they went shopping. What else can I tell you?

M: It’s a really good story you have.

J: What would you like to know, how else can I help you?

M: Well, this. To know your story, and now I’m going to write it and put it as an interview on my web site, on my blog. Because for me, what’s important now, there are people who don’t know anyone who has lived these stories, they don’t know the truth. For example, Donald Trump and other people who walk around saying terrible things about migrants.

J: I’m going to tell you something. I forgot it, I had it in mind. I am thankful that the doors were opened to me after that man helped me to work, helped me get a job. I am grateful to an American. His name is Ronald Reagan. I’m sad that his wife died, Nancy Reagan. I remembered. Because of him, because he had the heart, the heart that Donald Trump doesn’t have. He opened it up to a lot of people. A lot of people who were working. A lot of people have made their American dream. They’ve responded to the opportunity that he opened the doors to for us. We’re still here. Do you think we’re going to vote for Donald Trump?

M: I don’t think so.

J: I don’t think he’s going to win. For me, he’s the devil [laughs]. He’s bad, bad news. He is going to help everyone who is a very conservative American. That doesn’t know the background, because we came here to work. \

M: That’s what I want to share, because there are a lot of people who don’t understand. They just here, I don’t know, “They want to bring drugs and steal our jobs.”

J: Many people think… we came here to work, we came here to do our work without offending, doing what the American can’t do. I’m not going to see an American who’s cleaning bathrooms, an American in the kitchens like in Jack in the Box. They don’t do this work. The American wants to do work where he makes good money. We settle for whatever money, the minimum. If you understand me. I worked, before starting with Uber, I was working in a warehouse. I only saw one American working with us, because he was a friend of the boss. He was helping him, because he was an actor. A film actor, but he wasn’t making money, and he went to make some money there with us. But out of thousands, one American. The Hispanic, he’s there, unloading the containers. Hard work. Work where, it’s 100 degrees outside, and how hot is it inside? 120, 130. And they’re sweating, and I had to do that work. I was sweating like I was in an oven. Who’s going to want to do that work? You tell me. Nobody. Only us, who have the need, do it. And we came here with the idea that we would make it economically. To maintain our families over there.

He [Trump] thinks because of the news, but that’s like 20 percent. What happened to the other eighty percent? Those of us who work. Who have good intentions. And the only thing I say to people who come here, when they start their paths here, is that they go to school to learn English. That’s the key here, to get ahead. One. The other, is that if you want to speak English, you have to live in English, not in Spanish. From the border it’s called United States of America. It doesn’t say United States of Mexico. And we have to respect the laws of this country, and live like Americans. Then, it will go well for us. Because if we’re here, if we bring our heritage, we can do it here in our house. But when we’re outside, to live like an American. Because that’s how it is. It’s not our land. This is American land. You remember when there were some protests, from, who was it, about immigration? How do you think that an American is going to receive us if we go out with the flag of our country? Of Mexico? No, why don’t we go out with the flag of the United States? Then they will receive us well! Right? Because I live here, I think like that. So, my way of thinking, I have to think like an American, because I live in America and now I’m American, we have to live like Americans. And if you want to keep living here and make it, you have to stick to the law of the United States, because that’s the law here. So if you’re going to live here with the law of Mexico, you’d be better off returning to Mexico. Seriously. Why come here? If you’re going to come here to get ahead, you have to leave your stuff from there, and take the things from here, and you’re going to succeed. Because if you’re going to protest, no, this or that, no, you’re mind won’t let you. That, that’s what I think.

M: Right. Is there anything else you’d like to say, to share?

J: Well, that’s everything. That’s my advice. We have to do the work that a lot of people don’t want to do. Right? And that’s why a lot of people take advantage of us. The American is fair. But some people take advantage of immigrants. Because they don’t have papers. So they’re going to treat us like slaves. And that’s not okay. So, for us, only when we learn English and know the laws from here, from the United States, only then, they won’t be able to do anything to us.

And we need to have another amnesty, because there are a lot of people. Like I had the opportunity. I received amnesty in 1985. On August 28, 1988, I was legal. Yes, from that time until now, I’m legal. We need this, we need an amnesty. And thanks to God, I had that. Right? I haven’t been in jail, I’ve never been in jail. One time they took me because they thought I was drunk, but no, I had only had one beer. But I was there for like three hours. They told me, “Tell the truth, how many beers have you had?” “I’m telling the truth, one!” Boom, boom, they took me to the station. And then, they put me, in that time they were starting with the-

M: The breathalyzer.

J: Yes. [Blows out] “Beepbeepbeep.” Zero zero zero zero. The police said to me, “It’s lying! Blow!” Paa! He hit me. I blew more. “It’s lying!” “No,” I say, “I’m telling you the truth! Don’t hit me.” So the guy who was in charge say, and he says to me, “What happened.” And he told me, “Blow. But do it right.” I blew. “No, he’s not drunk. Why did you bring him?” He took me back to my car. In this time, I’m talking about 1980, 81, when I had my first car.

Now, it’s hard to cross. It’s hard.

M: Yeah. It’s really hard.

J: But people cross.

M: Yes. They’re always going to cross.

J: But how much does it cost now? A lot of money. That is, how much did it cost me to cross?

M: You said three hundred, right?

J: Fifty. How much does it cost now? It’s thousands of dollars! It’s expensive.

After me, I was the second, and then the rest of the family came. My mom was caught by the Border Patrol. She was in jail in Chula Vista. With my brother. But this was later, when they came. They came in 85. In 84 or 85, my mom came with my brother, my brother was 11 years old. And my brother only recently became a resident. He didn’t want to, didn’t want to, didn’t want to. Until one time I said to him, “You know what, I’m going to go find you.” And I found him a lawyer. And it cost money. And like that, now we’re all good. But I tell you, where did all that come from? 1976, earthquake, poverty. Many people because of poverty, many for politics.

That’s why, watch the movie, The North. Look, it’s going to help you a lot, a lot. They’re two Guatemalans, indigenous. From there comes the story of why they leave Guatemala, they cross through Mexico, and there’s the story in Mexico, what they live through in Mexico. What they had to do to be able to make it here. Him and his sister. They crossed. But that story is so… sad. And wow, it’s terrible. It’s a story that sympathizes with the same things we all experienced. Many people went through more, many less. But it’s the same story. They had to go through worse than what I went through. And one of the actors from that movie, they’re all Mexican. The actors. One of them, I’m not sure how long ago, maybe 18 years, got killed by a drunk driver in East Los Angeles. Yeah. But yes, it’s a very good movie. With the government, everything because someone wants to fight for his or her rights. People don’t have rights there. You think they have democracy? You think they have a democratic country? Lies. It’s because there is neither democracy nor communism. It’s the law of the government. They’re dead. They take away your land for the rich. And like that. Many people here in the United States for the same reason. They leave fleeing from there, and they take us away from here. We think we’re safe here, and look at the police now. There’s no way to cross.

Well, this is part of the story, this house. Small, we live here, humbly. But now we have something. There, we didn’t have anything. You know what our house was like? Where we lived? It was like half of this room, but it was made of wood. But it wasn’t wood like here that’s straight. It was, you know, here’s the tree, and you take off the sides, and that’s called lepa. And the house is made out of that. They cover it with newspaper, wherever it has holes, and it’s not straight, no. They’re pieces, the round part of the tree, and you make a house from that. A frame, and you put on a roof, you put what’s called lámina [aluminum], out of metal, for the water, and you cover it. But there, it’s never too hot or too cold. That’s why they call my country the country of eternal spring. It’s never cold, it’s never hot. It’s always spring, all year.

M: What part of Guatemala are you from?

J: From the city. Guatemala City, in a colonia [neighborhood] from Zone 19. It’s a place, here how they have cities, there they’re zones. Zone 19. And they’re made up of colonias. I lived in a colonia called El Milagro [The Miracle].

M: El Milagro. And the miracle is that you left.

J: And by a miracle, I arrived.

This is the final part of Juan Carlos’s story. Read the first part, about his journey from Guatemala to Los Angeles, here.

Thank you so much to Juan Carlos for sharing this story with me.

Casa News

What’s going on in the world this week? Here are a few links that caught my attention:

Is the Democratic Party headed for an implosion as disastrous as the Republican one? Read here.

This open letter by Professor Roksana Badruddoja to students in her Race & Ethnicity course explains white privilege and why white people should be aware of it and let it make us uncomfortable.

In terrible immigration news of the week, the U.S. keeps mistakenly deporting its own citizens. File under: racialization of citizenship.

Here’s a video about the work of awesome musician (and friend) La Muna, who recently released an entire album of songs inspired by the voyages of migrants she met on the U.S.-Mexico border (also check out the album here).

Central America is becoming an issue in the 2016 presidential campaign, and this piece explains what’s going on.

What You Don’t Hear About the Death of Berta Caceres

Berta Caceres

Berta Caceres, a major Honduran indigenous activist and human rights defender, was assassinated early Thursday morning. Caceres was a founder of the Council of Indigenous Peoples of Honduras (COPINH) and a winner of the Goldman Environmental Prize for her work to fight against the Agua Zarca dam. The dam, funded by Sinohydro, one of many Chinese companies investing major funds in the region, was to be built without the consent or consultation of local communities. Caceres’ important organizing work helped prevent the dam’s construction.

Caceres’ death has been widely reported in American media, and many such reports rightly condemn the violence that is currently endemic to Honduras. The country has been ranked as the world’s most dangerous country for environmental activists, and the United Nations reports that it has the world’s highest murder rate. Sadly, Caceres was not even the first indigenous rights activist associated with Agua Zarca dam to be killed. In 2013, fellow organizer and COPINH member Tomás García was killed by an army officer in a peaceful protest against the dam. While it is right to mourn the death of an important human rights figure like Caceres who fought for indigenous rights and self-determination, what goes unsaid in many reports is the role of the United States in Honduran violence. Americans should be wary of condemning Honduras before taking a look at the United States’ own role in that country’s crisis.

As Caceres’ and García’s deaths attest, human rights conditions in Honduras have worsened seriously since the 2009 coup against President Mel Zelaya. The coup was led by General Romeo Vasquez, an alumnus of the School of the Americas (or the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation), a U.S. Army institution infamous for having graduated some of Latin America’s most brutal dictators and officers, and for training its students in techniques such as torture and counterinsurgency. Yet after the coup in 2009, Washington did not call for the return against democratically-elected Zelaya, but rather backed elections under the new repressive regime, which put Porfirio Lobo in power.

Since the coup, the Honduran police force has faced widespread reports of police corruption and death-squad style killings. However, despite these and other increasing human rights violations in the past several years, the U.S. State Department has continued to funnel millions of dollars into the nation through the Central American Regional Security Initiative (CARSI). Between 2008 and 2012, at least $50 million dollars went to Honduras from the United States. And in 2016 a proposed Central American aid package will send $1 billion to the region, some of which will go to Honduras. One of CARSI’s priorities is to “build the capacity of law enforcement and the justice sector to serve citizens and to address regional threats.” As such, much of this monetary aid has supported and will continue to support the militarization of law enforcement – the same law enforcement accused of multiple human rights problems. If the results of U.S. investment in Honduran law enforcement are death squads and police corruption, the United States needs to seriously reconsider this “aid.” The United States cannot continue to subsidize a Honduras that criminalizes the defenders of human rights while enabling police and military impunity.

Berta Caceres played an important role in the self-determination of Honduran communities, and if the United States denounces her murder, we should also stop promoting state violence through law enforcement that leads to instability and further human rights abuses. Furthermore, if Americans are disturbed by high immigration from Central American countries like Honduras, they should consider why so many people are fleeing their homes, and question the United States’ support of the military coup that led to such increasingly dangerous conditions. Loudly denouncing Honduran human rights violations is futile and hypocritical if we do not also denounce and change U.S. policies that contribute to a climate that allows such violations to occur.

Drugs, Guns, and the Outsourcing of Violence to Latin America

A Los Angeles Times editorial by Iain Overton, an expert on U.S. gun culture, published this morning (read here) discusses the often overlooked international effects of domestic gun policy. As many Mexicans and Central Americans know, United States domestic policy often has a huge effect on these neighboring countries, perhaps nowhere more clearly than in drug policy and immigration policy. Continue reading →