Deportado (2022)
This is a very small excerpt from when I was held in Acayucan Detention Center for 2 weeks while hitchhiking and riding freight northbound to the USA. I am currently working on a more detailed story that I hope to put up on the blog in the future.
The route from Minatitlán, Veracruz to Houston to Delaware was completely unexpected and not at all how I planned on ending up in the USA. I would not want to experience a Mexican detention center again, but I also wouldn't change anything about my travels in Mexico.
I like trains, but just wandering around, walking, and living in the moment is why I travel. What I like most is the enlightenment and learning about the world through experiences that come from simply walking down a road for no particular reason. The serendipity. The unknown. It's an art. Even walking the same road twice produces different outcomes, every time; and that's adventure.
If I hadn't had ended up in Acayucan for 14 days living in such deplorable conditions with no soap, questionable water, toilets overflowing with shit and piss, and anywhere between 300 to 500 migrants, I would not really know what these people go through in search of a better life, a life I was grandfathered into at birth, a privilege they never had.
They're willing to risk their lives, limbs, and life savings, just to get a taste of freedom, to live "on the free," to work hard in any job and make sure their families can live comfortably. I find it very admirable, the amount of heart and dedication, the huge dreams and the wide smiles these men and women hold, but at the same time, the sadness overwhelms me, for I know these dreams alone simply are not enough for them to make it to the USA.
Not all of them will make it. Some will get deported. Some will get kidnapped, murdered by the cartel, and thrown in a ditch somewhere in the desert, simply forgotten. Some will exhaust all funds, and end up back where they started with even less than before. It's all a gamble, but a risk thousands a day take in search of a better life.
In Mexico, I wanted the migrant experience, and oddly enough, I manifested it, not the way I had pictured in my mind, but nonetheless, I experienced a small piece of their lives, of their journey to the USA, and came outta there with a new appreciation for life as an American.
I haven't had time to write the full story about the two weeks I spent in Acayucan in a detention center after getting pulled off a night train in Minatitlán, Veracruz. I'll get around to it when I get back to Vermont and make it into a free zine/downloadable .pdf for anyone who's interested.
I'm in Delaware through the weekend, and plan on heading out sometime next week on a NBD train. If you're around and wanna chill just hit me up.
Total transportation costs from Cancun to Chicago so far has been 41 pesos.