Illegal migrants in limbo in Nogales without documents (Feature)

By Silvia Ayuso Aug 4, 2010, 6:01 GMT

Nogales, Mexico - 'Call me Eduardo.' Or Emilio. Or Pedro.

In any event, he couldn't prove it. All of his documents, along with the rest of his life, remained in Phoenix, Arizona, where he lived for 12 years.

Four days earlier, US immigration authorities - 'la migra' - put an end to all of that with the stroke of a pen.

Just behind him rises the fence that separates the two cities of Nogales, and his two lives. The life he tried to build in the United States ended abruptly, with a ride in an immigration truck that dropped him on the Mexican side of the border at night, with nothing more than the clothes on his back.

Nogales is one of the many jumping-off points for Mexicans trying to cross the US border. One Nogales is in Sonora, Mexico. The other Nogales, its sister city, is in Santa Cruz County, Arizona.

'Borders: Scars on the Earth,' reads one of several murals painted on the Mexican side of the divide.

Eduardo says he doesn't have the strength to keep fighting.

'Go back? No, I'm going to bring my family here. You can't live there anymore, it's not worth it,' he said, referring to the strict new Arizona immigration enforcement law that took effect last week with a few controversial provisions suspended.

'In Arizona these days, you leave the house in the morning as if you aren't coming back. Everyone who gets up in the morning to go to work knows he might not come home. You say goodbye each morning as if it were the last time.'

Next to Eduardo, Juan nods. He was also deported with nothing but the greasy jeans and old T-shirt that were his work clothes for 10 years as a mechanic in Phoenix.

Juan is convinced that someone had turned him in, in the way that he was arrested.

'I woke up at 8 am, got the motorcycle out of the garage, parked it outside, and then they grabbed me. Even though I wasn't driving, they said they were taking me in for driving without a license. I told them that I had my documents inside, but they refused to let me get them,' he said, still wondering whether he will try to return.

Eduardo and Juan met in the immigration truck that brought them to Nogales, which has become a place of limbo for deported immigrants. Still in shock over what has happened to them, many wander aimlessly through the city streets.

There is help.

Several agencies of the Mexican government, as well as churches and non-governmental organizations, have assistance centres, where deportees try to reach the families whom they could not inform of their whereabouts.

Shelter is provided for a few days, plus meals and a chance to buy a reduced-price bus ticket to one of several Mexican cities.

'A lifesaver,' Eduardo calls it, and a dozen other deportees nod.

The fear still shows on Marcela's face. She and her husband tried in vain to cross the desert.

'We walked through the desert all night, and with two hours left to go they grabbed us,' she said.

The couple spent three days in a Tucson, Arizona, jail, suffering 'the heat of the day and cold at night, wondering what is going to happen to you, but they don't tell you anything.'

Now, they are resigned to their fate. The experience has been too difficult to try again, and in Nogales they are only waiting for help to get back to their hometown.

But not everyone is willing to abandon the 'American dream.'

For Odi, it's not the first time. Two years ago, he braved the desert, 'la migra' and every other obstacle to reach the US. Two months ago, he was deported to his native El Salvador, and a few days later he was back on the road through Mexico, a long and dangerous journey that took about six weeks.

'We're going to try again, though now it looks like the situation could be more difficult because of the new law and the bad things in the desert,' Odi said. 'But it's necessary. We left our homes and our countries, and we have to work to support them.'