Migrants bound for the United States say the elections do not matter


In a desolate stretch of high desert on the outskirts of Mexico City, a dozen migrants trudged along some railroad tracks, hoping to board a freight train that would take them closer to the United States. They said they were only vaguely aware of the US presidential election, which was just days away, and their role in it.

“I don't know much about American politics,” said Santiago Marulanda, 38, who had traveled from Venezuela with his wife and two children and hoped to reach California. “Whoever wins, wins. But I know this: whoever wins, things will not be easy for us as immigrants.”

Migrants wait to load buses at a Border Patrol holding area under the Camino Real International Bridge near Eagle Pass, Texas, in September 2023.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Illegal immigration has been one of the biggest problems in the presidential race. Former President Trump has promised to deport millions of people he routinely describes as “invaders” and “criminals,” and Vice President Kamala Harris has pledged to reduce illegal entries.

“Trump has a big mouth, but he doesn't scare me,” said Kevin Ociel Canaca, 25, originally from Honduras and planning to go to Houston.

He said he had been living and working there until he was deported last year, leaving behind a son, now 3 years old.

“If you are a migrant, you are going to suffer whoever the president is,” Ociel said. “Even if you work hard, someone will want you to be kicked out of the country. “That doesn’t stop us.”

Hundreds of migrants walk under a bridge on a dirt road, including adults and children.

Hundreds of migrants walk in Eagle Pass, Texas, in September 2023 to a U.S. Border Patrol area to be loaded into vans and transported to a processing center.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

A record number of asylum seekers arrived at the US border during the first three years of the Biden administration. In June, the president imposed tough new asylum restrictions that sharply reduced the number of immigrants entering the country, an achievement Harris has touted in her campaign.

Under intense pressure from Washington, Mexican officials have aided that effort, intercepting northbound travelers on highways, trains and at airports. In the first eight months of the year, Mexico detained almost one million migrants, more than double the total during the same period in 2023.

Instead of deporting these immigrants (most of whom are from Latin America), Mexican authorities have transported most of them to the southern tip of the country, near the border with Guatemala.

Undeterred, many simply turn around and resume their journeys north, dodging criminals, corrupt police, and Mexican immigration agents.

“The Mexican migrate “He has detained us several times, taken our cell phones, beaten us and sent us back to the south,” said Yancarlis Caldera, 29, one of hundreds of migrants camped in a squalid tent city in the outskirts of the Roman Catholic Church of the colonial era. of Santa Cruz and Soledad in Mexico City.

She and her partner left Venezuela in September, leaving behind three children.

“I've been all over Mexico up to this point,” he said. “Now I know Mexico better than my own country.”

Migrants and asylum seekers gather in a makeshift camp after crossing the border.

Migrants and asylum seekers gather at a makeshift camp near Jacumba Hot Springs, California, in May after crossing the border through mountainous, rocky terrain.

(Robert Gauthier/Los Angeles Times)

Many squatters in the tent city log into the U.S. government's CBP One app every day in hopes of getting an asylum appointment at the border and being able to enter the United States. Appointments are limited and it is common to try for weeks or months without success.

The daily search has become increasingly urgent for many immigrants as the US elections approach. Trump has promised to eliminate CBP One.

“What will we do if CPB One disappears?” Caldera asked, standing in front of his tent, which was covered with a black plastic tarp to protect from the rain. “No one here is going to return to Venezuela. There is nothing there for us. We will get to the United States one way or another.”

A group of nuns distributes food to migrants resting next to the train tracks in Huehuetoca, Mexico.

A group of nuns distribute food to migrants resting along train tracks in Huehuetoca, Mexico, in May 2023 as they try to board a freight train heading north, a day after travel restrictions were lifted. asylum related to the pandemic in the United States, called Title 42.

(Marco Ugarte/Associated Press)

That was also the feeling among people interviewed along the train tracks north of Mexico City, where migrants have long traveled north on the freight network known as The Beast. The hundreds that once gathered by the slopes have dwindled since the Mexican crackdown, but several groups were still trying their luck.

“We have been waiting for months for an appointment through CBP One,” said Dinorah López Rojas, 25, who had traveled from Guatemala with her brother, her husband and her uncle. Appointment or not, everyone was determined to get to the border and, eventually, to Southern California.

“Yes, we have heard that there may be deportations after the elections in the United States,” he said. “But I'm not sure about the candidates. “I just hope they don’t send us back after risking so much.”

As an approaching train rumbled in the distance, Lopez and her family gathered their luggage, hoping it would stop or slow down so they could board.

Special correspondent Cecilia Sánchez Vidal contributed to this report.

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