On Foot

by Mitchel Griffin (‘15)

Monday, May 25, 2015

Six hours, 1,000 miles, cars, planes, and taxis. Getting to Oaxaca was easy for us - travel is an afterthought at this point. For migrants, it's a different story. Centro de Orientación del Migrante de Oaxaca is just one of the many nonprofit organizations helping migrants on their transnational journeys. This morning we had the opportunity to visit COMOI (as it’s affectionately named), the migrant transit headquarter in Oaxaca City. Modestly tucked away on a side street, this little complex sees a steady stream of people, although its quite street tells a different story. As we made our way through the front gate, a beautiful mural accurately summarizing Dr. Goldberg’s Transnational Migration class greeted us. Immediately, our cameras began to click and we chattered, revealing over the excitement of visiting COMOI and witnessing its mission in action - helping migrants. COMOI’s workers told about their deeply humbling work they did everyday. After, they led us on a tour around the complex. We passed the food pantry filled to the brim; we ventured into the women’s dormitory where two bunkbeds were fixed on opposing walls and at the foot of one bunkbed a fully stocked women’s and children’s clothes closet for migrants to take as needed. We rounded a corner as we made our way into the backyard, stopping in the kitchen just before we walked to the men’s dormitory entrance. It was there that we made a new friend, a migrant in transit.

Two months, 1,000 miles, and all on foot. For our new friend, his journey to Oaxaca was different from ours, to say the least.

“I did not tell my family I was leaving. No one knew where I was going. No, I have not called my family since leaving.” Our new friend shared with us his story as we sat in a circle in the backyard under a large shady tree. He recalled his journey from El Salvador to Oaxaca with a soft smile, tired eyes, and restless feet. COMOI was not his first or last stop, only one stop on his tireless foot journey to the U.S., a promised land. COMOI allows its guest three days to rest before they must continue. A sobering reality of the nonprofit’s constraints. Our friend was on his third day; he had hopes of extending his stay, since COMOI was not crowded at the moment.

“I was fleeing violence back home,” our friend told us when we asked why he left El Salvador. Unfortunately, violence followed him. Along the journey from Central America into Mexico, authorities and bandits, alike, know the path migrants take as they cross borders. Our friend told us about his experience in a dense part of the forest where both authorities and bandits lie in wait, ready to pounce, robbing migrants of the very few things they carry with them. For our friend, it was just a single backpack with a few items of clothes. He said he was lucky for only being robbed once. COMOI told us about other migrants having their shoes robbed off their feet, just to ensure that their trek is that much harder.

“I am going to the U.S. I am a hard worker, and I know lots of skills. I am willing to learn more so I can work,” our friend proudly said as he told us about his end-goal. He does not have any contacts in the U.S., nor does he know at which point at the U.S.-Mexico border he will cross. As we know, it is a dangerous border to cross. Our friend knows the deadly realities of his trek. A matter-of-fact look in his eyes accompanied the words he shared about coming to terms with the possibility that he may not survive this journey he started only two months ago. We all shared a brief moment of silence.

Studying transnational migration, then speaking with a migrant who is just in the beginning of his journey, you can imagine, was a bittersweet experience. Our hearts were warmed by COMOI’s efforts to help these migrants, but a heavy toll still accompanied us as we heard the realities of making a transnational migration journey. Our blog aims at sharing the story about our wonderful trip, but also to share the realities of transnational migration. Several us wanted to do a bit more than just share COMOI’s or our new friend’s story. We wanted to give our whole selves (in true Hendrix spirit) to helping COMOI in any way we could. After lunch, we ventured back to COMOI to do some volunteer work. We helped label and reorganized the clothes storage closet and the food pantry. Tasks ranked high on any nonprofits' to-do list, but always crossed out last without extra helping hands. Our pride shinned as we completed these tasks and gave a little something back. In the kitchen before we left, we ran into our new friend one last time. He shared in our laughter at Kelsey Atwood (‘15) as she methodically cleaned the food storage cabinet with her always graceful animations. Sharing in laughter with our new friend was as equally important as sharing his story on this blog.