Despedidas

Today marks 14 weeks since I first arrived in El Paso.  The summer has absolutely flown by and now I'll be headed to Massachusetts to visit my family and friends on Monday before heading back to Emory on the 23rd.

The past week has pretty much just been a series of despedidas.  Jill, my supervisor, had a party at her house on Saturday night.  She has an incredible house and a magnificent view, and it was cool to spend time with a very diverse group of people (about half of whom I hadn't met before but who were invited because Jill thought I should meet them).  The special treat of the night was fresh watermelon mojitos- yum!

The next morning, a Lutheran church around the corner from my house had a beautiful service and lunch to say goodbye to the Border Servant Corps volunteers.  On Tuesday, the Labor Justice Committee had a despedida to honor their two most recent full-time volunteers.  Then on Wednesday, I had a special comida with the two women that I've worked most closely with in Juárez.  They took me to a really nice restaurant in a part of the city I hadn't been to yet and we had a delicious meal.  I even tried lengua (tongue), which wasn't as gross as I expected.

Goreti, me, and Beatriz at Maria Chuchena's

On Thursday, my office completely surprised me with a cake, flowers, and a U.S.-Mexico Border Health Commission 10th anniversary medal.  It was actually really amusing because they turned the lights off in the kitchen and awkwardly guided me in, so I expected everyone to yell "Surprise" and start singing "Happy Birthday"...but it wasn't my birthday, so they just turned the lights on and then Adriana, who I have spent a great deal of time with this summer, presented me with my goodbye gifts.  It was super sweet of them to plan it for Thursday because although yesterday was my last day of work, they realized that Fridays are super hectic days in the office and it's hard to get everyone together.

Tina, Denise, Adriana, me, Nicole, Jill, and Hector at the Commission

Yesterday I cleaned out my desk, sent out lots of thank you emails, interviewed an obstetrician, and worked on editing a paper with Jill.  I also managed to have lunch with some folks from Pax Christi at the Tejas Café, which is a very strange Mexican-American diner around the corner from my office.  After work, I spent some time with my next-door neighbors before eating family dinner with my roommates.

I still have one more interview to do by phone, but other than that, I'm just about ready to leave.  This practicum experience has been an excellent one, and I anticipate being back on the U.S.-Mexico border in the near future.  

Summer highs and lows

Unbelievably enough, I only have 3 more days of work! Things are noticeably winding down.  I'm caught up on everything, and am now just waiting on two of my participants to get released from the hospital so I can do my final interviews.

In beginning to reflect on my overall experience on the border this summer, I have identified my favorite and least favorite aspects of life here on the border:

Low: Macho Culture
I realize that sexism exists everywhere and that it is manifested in a multitude of ways.  However, for one reason or another, this summer, the machísmo of Mexican/Hispanic men in particular has really, really bothered me.  I hate having men "ch-ch" at me on the street.  (For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, I'll just have to demonstrate for you because there's really no good way to describe the awkward whistle used generally by Hispanics/Latinos to get someone's attention.)  I hate being told to wear long pants when it's 105º and sunny so that I receive less undesired attention.  I hate seeing men literally stop on the sidewalk to look at my butt, or at the butts of other women walking by.  I hate hearing men make comments about my body while I'm at the gym.  By no means is it every Mexican/Hispanic man, and by no means is objectifying women unique to this population.  But it is absolutely disgusting.  Can you imagine if I, as a woman, objectified men's bodies in this way?  I'm not really sure why I put up with it, other than the fact that I don't quite know what a good retort would be.  

High: Southern Hospitality
One thing I've always loved about spending time with Hispanics/Latinos is the culture of hospitality.  While my experience has taught me that many gringos thrive on the "by invitation only" idea, our neighbors to the south have the philosophy of "the more the merrier" when it comes to social gatherings.  For example, last Sunday evening, I attended a birthday party for a member of the Labor Justice Committee's daughter.  I wasn't actually invited, but two of my good friends here were, and they both saw it fit to invite me.  There were at least 50 guests present, along with a water slide, trampoline, piñata, and enough food to feed a small army.  I don't think I even met the birthday girl, who was turning 6 or something, but our host went completely out of his way to make the 3 gringo guests feel welcomed.  We received a special tour of the house, which he and his family had re-modeled to become a 2-family home (with his sister's family living in the other half).  We were also introduced to all the adult members of the family, and people were always coming over to where we were sitting to make sure we had enough to eat and drink.  The party was clearly a time to bring together the entire family and all of their friends and neighbors, and at 9pm when I left, the end was nowhere in sight.  I think my favorite part of the event was how many people showed up with an extra table or a few chairs.  All are welcome indeed.  I can't help but wish my country would show a little bit more hospitality to this population as a whole.

A full week in El Paso

I ended up not going to Juárez at all this past week because I was afraid of missing follow-up appointments with women in El Paso.  This ended up working out really well for my project, but I found myself kind of missing going into Mexico.  Therefore, I figured I would share the two most interesting things that I've seen in Juárez this summer:

1.  A few weeks ago, when I was waiting to get picked up at the hospital to be driven back to the bridge, I decided to venture into the old mall across the street.  The vast majority of the stores were closed up, but there was a decent crowd of people inside the grocery store and there were also people sitting on benches enjoying treats from the various stands.  However, the biggest surprise was that there was an ice skating rink in the middle of the hallway!  It was shut down "temporarily" according to the small hand-written sign, but I don't know how much I believe that since there wasn't any type of floor on the "rink".  Regardless, Ciudad Juárez would be the absolute last place I would think to look for an ice skating rink, so now I am on a quest to find one in El Paso.  Who knows, maybe we will see people from the desert skating in the Winter Olympics in two years!

2.  On the international bridges, there are lots of signs about how there is no selling/soliciting/etc. allowed.  Usually, the people selling gum and nuts and other random goods are right in front of the signs, making for a great photograph, but I figure that would be kind of awkward.  Anyway, one day about two weeks ago, I went over the bridge only to buy more minutes for my cell phone and to buy an agua fresca.  About 10 minutes later, when I was ready to walk back over to El Paso, the bridge was closed and there were at least 6 police vehicles.  I got a little nervous, especially when I saw the Mexican police escorting approximately 8 men off the bridge.  Then I was really confused because they sat the men in the back of the police pick-up truck and started driving away.  It didn't make sense until they re-opened the bridge and, for the first time since I've been here, there was no one trying to sell random stuff.  Evidently, every once in a while, the Mexican police decide to crack down on people not obeying the bridge rules and arrest the people they can, presumably to make an example out of them.  (In case you were wondering, the U.S. half of the bridge usually has Customs and Border Protection agents hanging out, telling potential vendors to stay on the Mexican side of the bridge.)  Two things about this situation kind of made me chuckle.  First, I've never seen a group of people being "arrested" before without handcuffs and just sitting in the back of a pick-up truck.  Granted, I doubt any of them would try to jump out since there was also a police officer in the back with them holding an AK-47.  Second, the next day, there was plenty of business taking place on the bridge again, and they were the same people that I always see.  This suggests that the penalty can't be that big of a deal and that the benefits of trying to make money on the bridge must outweigh the potential costs of apprehension.

I so wish that I had been able to capture photos of either of these, but hopefully you get the picture!

Progress

Hello, August! I can't believe you're already here!

Last week was absolutely insane as far as work goes.  In El Paso, I went from having 5 participants to having 10 participants and in Ciudad Juárez, I went from having 5 participants to having 8 participants.  I was super stressed, but I'm now in a much better place in preparing to do qualitative analysis for my thesis.

In El Paso, two of the women actually live in Ciudad Juárez but are both U.S. citizens by birth and want the same for their babies.  It was super interesting talking to them about their utilization of health care (I'm at least 99% sure that they're both paying cash for their prenatal care and subsequent hospital stay, which is something that the majority of people on both sides of the border cannot afford).

In Juárez, I spent two days last week at a Seguro Social hospital.  This is the system that people who have formal employment but who are not federal workers.  The hospital is much larger than the seguro popular hospital I was in before, and it also seems to be much better managed.  This is likely because seguro popular is the system that covers people who are either unemployed or who lack formal employment (e.g. the people who sell delicious aguas frescas in the streets).  In the latter system, people tend to be poorer and less educated than those who are part of Seguro Social.

I was very lucky to meet some nice people at this hospital who could help explain how this health system works.  I also formally interviewed three women.  One of them isn't due until early September, so she technically didn't qualify for my study because I won't be able to get follow-up with her, but we were both bored in the waiting room so I went ahead with the interview.  Plus, I already am lacking follow-up for the five women from the seguro popular, so it doesn't seem like that big of a deal to "lose to follow-up" at this point.  For the other two women, I was able to interview them literally hours before they gave birth and then about two hours after they delivered.  This wasn't ideal- the women were in pain beforehand and exhausted afterwards.  The whole situation was super awkward, too, because I was either interviewing women in their hospital beds, which were rolled out into the hallway, or I was wearing scrubs and hanging out in the labor & delivery area. When the latter happened, it was even harder to remind people that no, I'm not a doctor.  (This conversation always ends up lasting was longer than necessary because everyone wants to tell me that in Mexico, you have to be a medical doctor in order to study public health.)  By the way, the #1 way to figure out that a woman is too tired to do an interview is when she falls asleep mid-sentence.  Yeah, that happened...

About 90% of my time during my days in Mexico last week consisted of sitting around, mostly reading "Twelve Patients," which happens to be the best book I've read in quite a long time (Thanks, Dad!), or thinking about how sweaty I was since the hospital air conditioning was non-existent (I think it was just broken last week). I won't write about all the gory details of what I witnessed in the hospital, but if you want to know, just ask ;-)

Needless to say, amidst running around last week, I was trying to frantically keep up with transcribing my interviews.  That pretty much failed, but I am happy to report that as of today I am completely caught up.  Phew, just in time to start a series of postpartum interviews in El Paso tomorrow!

Love and generosity

(Disclaimer: all names in this entry have been changed)

For the past week or so, Casa Puente has had an awesome guest, who I'll refer to as Gloria.  Her story has greatly inspired me, especially through a very hectic week, so I wanted to share a little bit with you.

Gloria is from the southeastern United States.  She worked for a cleaning company many years ago, and one day another worker, who I'll refer to as Maria, called her up.  Maria, who is from southern Mexico, was a teenager and didn't speak much English at the time, and Gloria spoke practically no Spanish.  However, through the help of a stranger, Maria was able to communicate to Gloria that she (Maria) was being held captive by the cleaning company contractor because they said she owed money for her coyote.  Maria had run away, but had no where to go, and she had found Gloria's phone number.  At this point, not knowing what else to do, Gloria took Maria in.

Gloria has a son (who I'll refer to as John) who is around the same age as Maria, and the two of them became very close.  Maria taught John Spanish as he helped her improve her English.  Gloria tried to warn Maria that John was bad news- that he was heavily involved in drugs and alcohol- but Maria didn't seem to mind.  It turns out that Maria's older brother in Mexico was the same way.  In fact, he would sexually abuse Maria when she was a child to the point that Maria's mother sent Maria to a convent when Maria reached menarche for the sole purpose of preventing Maria from getting pregnant.

Anyway, before long, Maria and John got married and had their first child.  However, John only continued to  use drugs and alcohol, and became quite abusive.  After giving birth to their second child, Maria decided to move back to Mexico with her children so she could be with her parents.  It wasn't long before John followed her down, and from there things got much worse.

Over Christmas this past year, Gloria went to Mexico to visit Maria and John and her two grandchildren.  In advance of her visit, she sent money so that they could buy food and presents for the holidays and so they could gas up the car to pick Gloria up at the airport.  When they picked Gloria up at the airport, John said that the car didn't have gas, and could Gloria help them out.  Then, when they got to Maria and John's house, there was almost nothing in the refrigerator and Maria told Gloria that there were no presents for the kids.  Gloria became very angry, asking what happened to the money she sent, but Maria didn't know anything about it.

Although Gloria very clearly struggles financially, she rented a place nearby to stay for a few weeks and took her grandchildren for the holidays.  She was also finally able to get Maria to admit that John is abusive and that he is involved with drug lords in Mexico.  She said that the kids are afraid of him and that she's scared for all of their lives.

So, flash forward to 7 months later.  Maria called Gloria to tell her that her third baby is due at the end of August, but that she "doesn't want to think about how it was conceived".  Maria decided it was time to leave John once and for all, but she didn't quite have the means to do it on her own.  So Gloria called a domestic abuse hotline and found out that she should have Maria come to Juárez from southern Mexico and then cross into El Paso to seek protection under VAWA.  Gloria sent Maria money for a bus ticket and then drove more than halfway across the southern United States with a friend.  Maria made the 3-day bus trip to Juárez (side note: this had to be terrible, especially since she's 8 months pregnant) and Gloria met her there.  They stayed for a few days in Juárez, and then they all crossed into El Paso (except for Maria's oldest child, who she sent to stay with her sister in Mexicali).  Gloria and her friend crossed the bridge with ease since they're U.S. citizens, but Maria and her 3-year-old daughter were at the port of entry for a few hours to go through the first VAWA interview.  (Luckily, she said the interview wasn't as bad as the interrogation that she was prepared for.)

Currently, Maria and her daughter are staying in a shelter in El Paso, waiting for a court date for the processing of Maria's visa (oftentimes people seeking VAWA visas are held in detention centers, but Maria is considered a humanitarian case due to her late stage of pregnancy and thus is allowed to stay in a special shelter as long as she does not try to leave El Paso).  Gloria's friend took a bus back home, so Gloria is hanging out with us, trying to figure out what comes next.  They're still unsure about when Maria's son is coming to El Paso and about whether the long trip back to Gloria's house will be too much for Maria before the baby is born.  Plus, now they have to figure out where Maria and the kids are going to live, since they feel like if John comes looking for them, the first place he'll look is his mother's house.

To be honest, hearing this story come out bit by bit has seemed more like a movie than real life.  I was able to spend several hours talking to Gloria last weekend, during which she told me that her son would literally kill her if he found out that she is helping Maria.  She expects that he will end up dead somewhere in southern Mexico over the next few years, just like many other people involved with drug cartels.  She also laments that she "created such a monster."

It's hard to imagine anything but pure love coming out of Gloria.  I have never met anyone so generous with what little she has.  And Maria is the same way.  I have felt so blessed having them, Maria's beautiful daughter, and their super cute dog in my life for the past week or so, as they have taught me so much about what extreme kindness really looks like.

Juarense adventures

I've been spending lots and lots of time in Ciudad Juárez lately.  I finally feel like I have a good sense of direction there, which makes me feel a lot more comfortable being there without an escort.

Last Sunday, I was feeling antsy, so I asked my roommate Quan if he wanted to go over to the tourist market in downtown Juárez.  Quan hadn't been over there yet, and I have been trying to find some small gifts for friends to bring back.  Our other roommate Eric explained to me where the tourist market is, and off we went.  It was super hot (and even humid!) outside, which made for two very sweaty tourists, but we found the market easily and were excited to start shopping.  The market is in a big warehouse-type building and looks exactly like every other tourist market I've been to in Latin America...with all of the same goods, too.  I always feel uncomfortable in places like that, especially when the vendors are each calling out, "Pásale, buen precios," or, even more uncomfortably, "Hello, you come here, I give you good price."  And, to make it even more uncomfortable, it was immediately obvious that at least half of the little booths were closed.  At Eric's suggestion, Quan and I went to the back corner of the market to talk to a guy who's originally from Oaxaca, lived in the U.S. for more than a decade, and then moved to Juárez after being deported.  His English is nearly perfect and he didn't harass us to buy things, probably because he lived in the U.S. long enough to know that most estadounidenses hate feeling pressured to look at things when shopping.  I asked him how business was these days, and he said the past few years have been horrible because the city barely sees any tourists anymore.  He and everyone else who sells stuff at the market have to also find other work in order to meet their expenses; for example, he sells ice cream during the week.  I felt really guilty not buying anything from him, but it was clear that everything being sold in the market was mass-produced (perhaps in factories in China?)

When we left the market, I wanted to go across the street to buy a Michoacana (popsicle).  As we were crossing 16 de Septiembre, the main street in the city, we looked to the left and saw throngs of people walking towards us.  It turns out that it was a protest against the recent presidential elections in which the PRI candidate won after what many Mexicans say were fraudulent practices.  Many of the protesters appeared to be university students and were donning shirts that say "Yo soy 132."  It seemed awkward to take a picture of the protesters, but I can tell you that there were hundreds and hundreds of them and that the whole thing remained incredibly peaceful (besides the fact that traffic was backed up so people were honking their horns incessantly).

I haven't really taken many pictures in Juárez, but here's a view of 16 de Septiembre (after the protesters moved over to the parallel street):

And here's a picture of the cathedral on the main square on 16 de Septiembre:

Since I was with Quan, I also felt more comfortable taking pictures on the bridge in the middle of the day.  A random guy actually came over mid-picture and said, "Don't do that; they'll take your camera" but I don't know if he meant the people in cars driving by or Border Patrol.  Anyway, it was too late by then, so it didn't really matter.  

Here's a picture of my favorite temporary mural on the Rio Grande.  It's hard to see, but pictures of individuals who have been "disappeared" in Juárez were used to spell out paz.  We had rain this week, so the whole thing is already completely washed away:

And here's a picture I took of downtown El Paso from about halfway down the US-side of the bridge:

Hot tamales!

On Friday night, Casa Puente had a despedida for our landlord, West, because he began a new adventure today in Ambos Nogales with the Kino Border Initiative (check them out!).

In addition to always having great company, the next best thing about the parties we have is the amount of awesome food that people bring: homemade mango pico de gallo, homemade coconut mochi...the assortment is almost unreal.  My next door neighbors brought over two big plates of steaming hot tamales, and as I was sitting with the mother, Maria, I finally asked her if she would teach me how to make them.  I tried to learn how to make Central American tamales (the ones wrapped in banana leaves) when I was in Costa Rica, but they are super labor intensive so I gave up and resigned myself to just eat them instead.  But I figured I would aprovechar the knowledge of my wonderful neighbors here and give Mexican tamales a shot.

So on Saturday morning, Maria's son, Junior, came over to tell me it was "tamale time."  When I got there, Maria handed me a tamal to eat that she had just heated up.  Normally at parties I eat around the meat inside and discreetly throw the meat away inside the corn husk because I don't like to draw attention to the fact that I'm a vegetarian.  However, Maria was basically watching me eat, so I politely ate every last bit, including the  beef.  (This scenario was repeated two more times throughout the day because Maria wanted to make sure I had my tamal-making strength...my stomach was not very happy with me.)

I spent the next four hours cutting up several pounds of beef into bite-sized pieces and trying to memorize the recipe for tamales.  We used more pounds of Maseca than I could count, along with water, oil, salt, baking powder and the broth from cooking the beef.  We mixed enormous quantities at a time with our hands until the texture and taste was just right.  Then came the tedious work of covering each corn husk with a thin layer of the dough.  It was way more difficult than I thought to get the dough to spread evenly and smoothly.  I felt like I was slowing Maria down more than anything else, but she said that she likes teaching people how to cook and she enjoys the company that comes along with the very minor assistance that people like me offer. Plus, she was super proud of how much I improved throughout the day.

While we were cooking, Maria's three kids showed me a video of the oldest daughter's quinceañera last year and we chatted about all sorts of random stuff.  Maria also told me a little about her life; about how she grew up in the state of Durango but moved to Juárez when she was a teenager to work in a maquila, where she ended up meeting her husband.  She also shared with me some of the myths related to cooking tamales; for example, although groups of women often make tamales together, only one woman can put them in the pot to be cooked on the stove if they are going to turn out well.  Also, to start putting them in the pot, the first four go in a cross and she says a brief prayer.

The experience was really cool, and I was rewarded for my work with a bowl of hot, fresh tamales to bring home:

Only 3 more weeks?!

I hate being one of those people who's constantly counting down to something, but it feels very significant that today marks three weeks before I leave El Paso, especially because I have SO much to do before I go home.

A brief update on my project:

1. Evidently the 5th time is a charm- I finally got an EMS data disk from the state of Texas that functions and was able to do some really fun analyses last week!

2.  I am very happy to report that I did two more prenatal care observations and interviews on Friday morning with an El Paso-based OB we approached about participating on Wednesday! And I have at least one more prenatal care observation and interview scheduled for another El Paso-based OB this afternoon (my supervisor just approached her about participating on Friday!).  Annnd I have a postpartum interview scheduled for Wednesday morning in El Paso! Yay for some progress finally!

3.  I went to Juárez with my supervisor on Wednesday to meet an OB and an epidemiologist from one of the Seguro Social hospitals there.  It looks like I'm going to do "prenatal" interviews with women who qualify when they enter the hospital to deliver and then return the next day to do the postpartum interviews.  This is quite different than what I've been doing, but with my departure date looming it seems to be the only way to include another Mexican hospital in my study.  I will likely be starting tomorrow morning, si Dios quiere.


And a complete side note regarding my trip to Juárez on Wednesday:

As most of you know, since 2007, passports (or other valid documents) have been required to enter the U.S. from anywhere else in the Western Hemisphere (Ah, remember the days when only a birth certificate was required?).  I was kind of wondering what happened if U.S. citizens forgot their passports and tried to re-enter the U.S., and the answer came on Wednesday when someone I crossed with did exactly that.  The woman showed her U.S.-issued driver's license, and when the customs official asked for her passport, she explained that she left it at home.  He asked if she had visited Mexico before, and she said yes.  He asked if she was bringing anything back, and she said no.  Then he asked where she would get shark teeth, to which she responded "Florida."  And then he told her to have a nice day.

Why am I telling you this?  First of all, I felt rather offended that she was able to use a driver's license as her proof of citizenship since you don't necessarily need to be a citizen to get a driver's license.  This is significant because I have a feeling that if this woman was not white, it would've been a whole lot harder for her to prove her citizenship.  I don't need to go into a full rant about white privilege here, but this encounter seemed very significant since I'm constantly surrounded by talk about what it takes to "enter the United States legally."

And secondly, I wanted to make sure that everyone out there knew where you get shark teeth.  Evidently it's something that U.S. citizens know, but to be honest, I probably would've answered "from a shark" or "from an aquarium."  Good thing I carry my passport!

Another great weekend

One of the exciting points of last week was when my landlord, West, asked if I was interested in attending and helping out with a conference he's been planning through the Border Network for Human Rights (BNHR).  The conference was on Friday night and all day Saturday and its theme was "We The Border."  The premise was that the prevailing border narrative in the United States includes talk of violence, drugs, chaos, weapons, "illegal" immigrants, etc.  However, the majority of the people who talk about this country's southern border haven't spent much time here.  Even Gov. Rick Perry has been known to repeatedly misspeak about El Paso, which, to the surprise of some, is actually in Texas.  So, the BNHR decided that it wanted to work with various border stakeholders to write a new border narrative, and that they would do so by hosting a conference here in El Paso.

Since I live with West, I have been able to witness the hard work that has gone into this conference for the past few months.  A planning committee was created, and each of them set out to gather others to write border narratives from their perspectives.  Before the conference even began, border narratives were written by law makers, faith leaders, law enforcement, academics, people working in non-profits, etc. all across the country.  These narratives included the reality that these working groups see and what they would like for the future of the border.

The conference itself had about 80 people attend.  Some especially interesting guests included Don Kerwin, the Executive Director of the Center for Migration Studies in New York; John Fife, co-Founder of the Sanctuary Movement and of No More Deaths in Arizona; a border patrol officer; a woman in charge of all community relations for the Department of Homeland Security; a county judge in Presidio, TX; and Dee Margo, the only Republican state representative for El Paso.  There were also lots of academics, religious, and representatives from non-governmental organizations.

The first portion of the conference included a lot of networking and presentations.  Then, on Saturday afternoon, we really got to work.  Four editors went through all of the narratives and condensed what people said into four topics: national security, community safety, human rights, and economic opportunity.  All of the conference attendees were then assigned one of those four topics and we created working groups.  I was the moderator for the national security group.  We had an hour and a half to review what the narratives included about national security and then offer additions/changes.  The content was broken up into the categories of myths vs. realities, vision for the future, and recommendations.  The session was bilingual and included about 20 people.  After these break-out sessions, the editors took some time to create a PowerPoint presentation with the conclusions from the work groups, which will now be written out a little more formally to be used by various groups.

Overall, I met a lot of really interesting people who I hope to get to know better if I end up moving back to El Paso after I graduate in May.  And I especially enjoyed the multi-disciplinary approach that the conference took.  I was glad that I wasn't sitting in a room with a bunch of public health professionals who see the world in almost the same way that I do.  Even if I didn't necessary agree with everything that everyone said, the atmosphere remained extremely respectful and productive- I would love to see this type of model used more often in our society!

On Saturday night when I got home from the conference, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that five Jesuits were staying in my house for a couple of nights.  They are currently on a journey from El Progreso, Honduras to Nogales, Arizona and are keeping an excellent blog about the trip.  I've actually been following them since the beginning, and when I saw that they were stopping in El Paso I just assumed that they were staying at Annunciation House because they've been staying mostly at migrant shelters along the popular migration corridor.  But alas, they stayed at Casa Puente, which provided me a great opportunity to hear more about their journey.  It's also really cool to just hear more about their formation; only one guy in the group is ordained, and the rest are at different points in their long journeys to become priests.


Yesterday was especially nice, as I spent most of the day with the group.  In the morning, we went to Mass at Sagrado Corazon, the Jesuit-run parish here in El Paso.  Then we ate lunch at the tortilleria, which is housed in the old gymnasium at the church and is used to provide financial support to the parish while also providing jobs in the community.  The food was SO good!!!  


Mid-day, the Jesuits went to the Farm Workers Center, which gave me the opportunity to spend a little time with two of my roommates, Katy and Eric.  Katy is currently working with the Park Service in the Gila, but was in town for the weekend for a wedding.  If you're looking for a good read about the U.S.-Mexico border, I highly recommend their blog about their recent four-month bike trip from the Pacific to the Gulf of Mexico.  


Anyway, after Eric had to bring Katy back to work, I went to the Chamizal Park (which is right on the border and is technically binational, although the multitude of fences along the Rio Grande take away that feel) with the Jesuits for Music in the Park.  We brought sandwiches and enjoyed the beautiful weather, blue grass music, and good conversation on some big picnic blankets.  Another Jesuit (the one who actually celebrated Mass earlier) joined us, and after talking to him for a few minutes, we realized that he had talked to my group in the Dominican Republic over five years ago! It sure is a small world!  The night was exactly what I needed to mentally prepare myself for another work week, and to top it all off, I helped myself to a paleta Michoacana de coco and an agua de melon. I guess it really is the simple pleasures in life that make a difference :)  

(Tough) Lessons Learned

Today begins the one month countdown to my trip home to Massachusetts and the four week countdown to my last day of work.  I am certainly looking forward to going home for the first time in 8 months, but I feel very crunched for time as far as my project goes.

This week has been a rough one for my practicum.  On Monday, I spent most of the afternoon trying to get in touch with five women in Juárez and one in El Paso.  I absolutely hate trying to chase people down, especially when it is an epic failure.  I called one house in Juárez at least a dozen times in order to confirm an appointment for a postpartum interview that I had previously set up with a woman for Tuesday morning.  I managed to talk to the woman's husband and to her sister, but never to her.  All the phone calls made me appreciate how much I don't miss spending 50% of my time on the phone at the clinic I worked at in Savannah, and also made me appreciate the ease of calling local numbers.  In order to call Juárez from my office, I have to dial 9-011-52-1-656-xxx-xxxx.  That is a lot of dialing!

I spent Tuesday morning in Juárez.  As you probably predicted, the woman who I was scheduled to interview didn't show up.  I waited for a little over an hour before giving up.  However, it was nice to spend time with the clinical manager and one of the residents.  We chatted a lot about the Mexican health care system and about both of their desires to eventually live and work in the United States.  I was especially grateful that they could acknowledge my frustration with women not showing up for the follow-up interviews while gently reminding me that it's to be expected at some level when doing any type of research.  Then they very kindly called all five participants from that hospital to schedule appointments with them for Friday.  They didn't mention anything about doing an interview, instead saying that they wanted to schedule postpartum check-ups.  I expressed my concern that they were lying to the women, but they said they would definitely do an exam on the women and then ask the women if I could do a second interview with them since I was conveniently present that day.  Three of the five women picked up the phone, and the clinical manager promised to call all five women back again on Thursday to confirm the appointments.  I left the hospital feeling hopeful about Friday, but then when I saw 15 people getting deported while I was walking back across the bridge, I couldn't help but feel kind of down.

This morning, I returned to Juárez with the expectation of getting at least one postpartum interview.  However, none of the women showed up for their appointments.  I nearly cried when I realized that I've exhausted every possible way to follow-up with this group of women.  The clinical manager patiently explained that women in this health system (seguro popular) are not used to returning to the clinic for care after giving birth.  Plus, with my participants being so young (none of them are of age to get a driver's license!), I know that transportation can be especially difficult.  Protecting me from being completely downtrodden was a once again enjoyable couple of hours spent in the staff room.  The guard and most of the clinical and clerical staff now knows me (I am, after all, supposedly the only gringa that goes there regularly) and always warmly greets me, which feels really welcoming.  Plus, today the sister of one of the residents was visiting from the city of Chihuahua, so we sat and chatted the entire two hours I spent waiting for my participants to show up.  She's a dentist and told me a lot about the rest of the state of Chihuahua as well as about Mexico City, where she's originally from.  We also talked a lot about the public school systems in our respective countries, which I think was very educational (no pun intended) for both of us.  She also seemed genuinely interested in me and my work, and was eager to exchange phone numbers.  I love expanding my network here :)


On top of my follow-up problems in Juárez, I was supposed to have a meeting this week to start work at a seguro social hospital there.  However, the people I need to meet with have yet to get back to me.  I also still haven't gotten any new participants in El Paso.  One doctor thought he had a potential woman to enroll, but she declined.  Plus, I have been continuously unable to reach one participant here who gave birth a few weeks ago in order to conduct the postpartum interview.  Gah!

In addition to doing my own qualitative work, I've also been helping out with a lot of quantitative work in my office.  I really like this, as it especially helps to reinforce my statistical/programming knowledge.  However, this week was very frustrating.  First, this week I received the fourth disk of data from the state of Texas that I'm supposed to be analyzing.  The first three were all either blank disks or the wrong files, and it turns out that the fourth disk was also blank.  Additionally, I've been helping another graduate student learn how to write code on SAS.  However, she's trying to work with a very complex data set from Mexico, so I spent most of my afternoons this week trying to troubleshoot some things with that.  I've actually been very successful, which is certainly affirming for me, but it's been super time-consuming and tedious.  


I don't want y'all to think that things are all bad here, though.  For instance, on Tuesday night I was able to get dinner and margaritas with my friend Michelle from Emory.  She finished her practicum in Kenya on Monday, so we could definitely empathize with each other's field work challenges.  And last night I attended a movie night at the Columban Mission Center, which is a really cool place where I want to try to spend more time.  We watched "The Gatekeeper", which was super intense but very well-done- I totally recommend it.  


To be honest, despite my major challenges, I am still happy here.  I am learning so much, from how to conduct field research to some random things about Juarense culture. (Side note: Today, every pregnant woman I saw in Juárez was wearing a safety pin on her clothes in front of where her belly button is.  Turns out that it's a common superstition that on particular days, in this case Friday the 13th, the safety pins are needed to protect the baby from harm.)  I feel very passionate about what I'm studying, and I feel quite confident that I'll be back in El Paso soon after graduating from Emory to continue this type of work on the border.  So I guess I just have to continue to be flexible with what I expect to get out of my analysis and continue to work hard with an optimistic attitude so that I can get as much more done as possible in the next few weeks.  

The best laid plans...

Nothing seems to be going quite as planned with my research.

On Thursday morning, I was really excited to do a second interview in Juárez.  I was over the bridge by 8:30 because I love spending time in front of the Presidencia before my day begins.  The area rests between the two downtown bridges and is full of bustle.  The land there sits slightly above the land in downtown El Paso, so you get a really interesting perspective looking at the big Chase and Wells Fargo buildings with the backdrop of the Franklin Mountains.  (Before I leave, I'm going to bring a friend over with me so we can take some pictures...I don't quite feel comfortable enough pulling out my camera alone amidst all the other commotion.)

Anyway, I was supposed to be picked up at 8:45, but Goreti didn't come until 9, which happened to be the time I was supposed to meet my study participant.  The hospital is about a 10 minute drive from where I was, but the streets were all super flooded due to the lack of drainage system, so it took longer than usual. (Super exciting side note: We got a little rain over the past few days, and the temperature has been below 100 for the past week! The humidity in the air and the sight of clouds in the sky have been absolutely wonderful!)  I texted the participant but didn't hear back.  I got to the hospital around 9:15 and assumed I had still gotten there before her; after all, we are on "border time."  I called her phone but it was off, so I waited until 10.  She never showed up, though.  While I was there, I was able to aprovechar the good signal on my Mexican cell phone and set up another postpartum interview for Juárez for Tuesday, so I guess my time wasn't completely wasted.


At 10, Goreti came back for me.  However, she had a friend, her friend's daughter, and their dog in the car.  Before going back to the bridge, we had to go to the vet because the dog was sick.  The trip was actually pretty cool; I got to see a lot more of Juárez while also learning that Mexico has public veterinarians, which are significantly less expensive than the private ones.  This is especially good since most people (like Goreti's friend) acquire pets by taking them in from the streets... so at least there's an affordable way to get the animals taken care of.  I also really enjoyed chatting with Goreti's friend's four-year-old daughter; I absolutely love little kid Spanish.  

So anyway, I've been trying to set up two postpartum interviews in El Paso for the past week, which has been a major struggle.  Then, on Friday morning, one of the participants texted me and asked if I could meet her at an IHOP in 15 minutes.  The IHOP is 15 miles from my office and I don't have a car.  I was freaking out so my supervisor kindly drove me over there.  Then I conducted the interview over pancakes with the participant and her boyfriend while their 8-day-old baby sat at the end of the table.  It was kind of an awkward situation, and the restaurant was really loud.  I've been trying to transcribe the interview, but the background noise makes it painful and I keep getting frustrated at hearing the interruptions in the conversation every time the waitress comes by the table.  At least the interview happened though; evidently the couple is moving about 3 hours east of here in a couple of days!  It took me an hour and 15 minutes to get back to my office using two different buses, but it also only cost $1, so I guess I can't really complain.

I leave El Paso five weeks from tomorrow and am still less than 1/3 done with my summer project.  I've come to accept the fact that I will likely not get prenatal and postpartum interviews with 15 women on each side of the border.  My new goal is for 10 on each side of the border; with that I'll hopefully have enough data to analyze for my thesis.  And if not, well, I guess I'll be able to say I worked as hard as I could on this and then cut my losses by doing a completely quantitative thesis.

En el Día de Independencia

Happy 4th of July! I'm starting to think that it'd be much nicer to have every Sunday and Wednesday off instead of every Saturday and Sunday... Today is such a wonderful break!

Anyway, things with work have gotten a bit better.  I felt very accomplished actually getting in touch with one of the women in Juárez who delivered a few weeks ago.  I'm going to interview her tomorrow morning, so hopefully everything goes off without a hitch.  Now I just need to continuously stalk the other four women over there until they answer their phones, and also start working at a second hospital sometime next week.  Luckily, with the latter, I'm partnering up with a really cool epidemiologist who has taken a lot of interest in my study- he even called me so we could talk more about what I'm looking for!

On the U.S.-side, I'll hopefully have a second interview with another woman either late this week or early next week.  I feel kind of bad stalking people down when they're adjusting to life with a new baby, but I don't know another way around it.

I'm still having recruitment issues here.  Unfortunately, a well-known OB-GYN in El Paso had a bike accident a few weeks after I arrived, and he died from the injuries last week.  He was supposed to participate in my study, but obviously that didn't work out.  However, the two doctors who have taken responsibility for all of his patients were also supposed to participate in my study, and they told me on Monday that it won't be possible because they already feel so over-loaded.

On top of this tragedy, I'm still not officially cleared at this one hospital in El Paso.  I sat through a worthless HIPAA training with medical residents on Monday and got a badge saying I'm "shadowing", and was told that once those were complete I'd be all set.  However, yesterday afternoon before I left work, I got an email from some compliance woman saying that she doesn't understand how my study is IRB exempt.  I'm getting quite frustrated having to explain to people that I'm doing a small, qualitative study that's non-generalizable and doesn't require looking at any confidential health information.  My supervisor keeps reminding me that people aren't used to dealing with public health studies, especially in this area.  I guess it's helpful for me to think of this as strengthening research capacity here, although that doesn't actually diminish my frustrations.

Although things with my own work aren't exactly perfect, I've been really enjoying doing other work in my office.  For example, yesterday morning I prepped some tables and figures for publication for my supervisor.  Then yesterday afternoon I worked with a local public health student to teach her how to use SAS.  Doing this has definitely affirmed that Emory was the perfect school for me- it's amazing to realize how much I've learned throughout the past year!  This type of stuff has also helped me hone in on what I want to be doing after I graduate in May, which is certainly a good thing!

Border Immersion Part 3

On Friday morning before going to work, I visited Mile Marker One and Oñate Park with the immersion group.  As I've mentioned previously, the Rio Grande serves as the border between Texas and Mexico.  However, when the river heads north, there is no natural boundary between the United States and Mexico; hence the building of the border fence.

Mile Marker One is the first mile marker out of over 1000 that stretch from the point where the Rio Grande no longer serves as the national boundary all the way west to San Diego.  A very unique point about Mile Marker One is its lack of border fence.  I have no idea why there is no fence there, and I haven't found anyone who can give me a plausible answer.  Getting to the area is kind of sketchy- it involves crossing a little, old bridge off the Border Highway and then driving on a dirt road.  However, it's a really interesting place to be, and evidently there are sometimes binational meetings and such that take place there.

Here are some pictures:

The actual mile marker

Looking directly west, Mile Marker Two sits at the top of Mt. Cristo Rey next to the visible white cross

The border in this area.  I'm standing in both countries at once to take this picture (although it's illegal to cross the border outside of ports of entry, the Border Patrol evidently doesn't mind if you stand on the concrete panel around the mile marker to take pictures)

Taken just to the left of the mile marker

I have no idea why Oñate Park is called a park.  It's actually pretty depressing looking.  However, it's another good location to gain perspective on what the border looks like:

This is a security camera that cost $400,000.  These sit all along the border area.

This sign is very significant: many people die each year trying to swim across the dam.  The water looks calm, but it can be as deep as 12 feet and the current can run as fast as 35 mph.

Looking through the fence at the dam.  The area of land that lies in the center of the photo is still U.S. territory, because on the other side of it is the Rio Grande.  Therefore, the actual boundary of the countries is in the middle of the river (which you can't see here).  Past the river, the land you do see (like the little hill) is Juárez.

Border Immersion Part 2

On Wednesday, I had the great privilege of going to Las Americas Immigrant Advocacy Center where my new friend Ali (a current Border Servant Corps volunteer) works.  Ali gave an incredible presentation about ways that migrants come to the U.S. legally and where the problems in the immigration system exist.  She also shared a few heart-wrenching stories about people seeking asylum here in El Paso.  I think the hardest stories to swallow are those about people fleeing very obvious threats to their lives, especially from Juárez, but lose their asylum cases (after spending time in a detention center to boot!)  I understand the argument about the U.S. not being able to take everyone who wants to come here (and I kind of disagree with it since I think that a lot of people who have resettled here would prefer temporary work permits...but that's a different topic altogether), but there is something that just seems especially evil about sending people back across the bridge to Juárez from El Paso, knowing that they will likely be killed almost immediately upon return.  The whole system is out-dated and screwed up and complicated.  Here is a picture of the beautiful mural on the side of Las Americas:

 
On Thursday morning, I went with the immersion group to the Anapra fence.  For the first hour, we chatted with two border patrol agents.  It was pretty interesting listening to the discourse that they're trained to use.  For example, they referred to themselves as "paramilitary" but then insisted that the border is not "militarized."  They gave us information on the history of the border and its security, and explained how the various branches of enforcement fit together (e.g. Customs and Border Protection vs. Immigration and Customs Enforcement).  When asked about the building of the fence, they made sure to emphasize that it is not a "wall" before explaining that it only serves to "slow people down."  That's why there is no fence up Mt. Cristo Rey, which serves as a 3-way border between Texas, New Mexico, and Chihuahua; the mountain slows people down more than any fence would.  My favorite part was when one of the agents explained that tight border security is vital for apprehending "terrorists."  One of the members of the group asked how many terrorists have been apprehended on the U.S.-Mexico border, and the agent's answer was zero.  She could've stopped there, but then continued to mention how the terrorists behind the September 11 attacks entered the U.S. legally.  I couldn't help but chuckle about her very illogical statements, but to be honest I was pleased with the presentation.  The agents were kind, well-spoken, and gave us direct answers to our questions.  And while I've heard stories of brutality among the "migra", I truly believe that it's a minority of agents who use excessive force.  I also have to respect the fact that the agents are doing their jobs so that they can provide for themselves and their families, just like everyone else, even if I couldn't personally do a job that I had moral issues with.  Although I don't agree with the building of the fence or with "Operation Hold the Line", the border patrol agents' jobs are following orders that are set by policy-makers who are usually in Washington.  As the agents themselves said more than once, if I want border patrol to look different, that's something to talk to my Senators and Representatives about, not them.

Right after the border patrol presentation, we moved our plastic chairs over about 50 yards to chat with some people through the fence.  A Salvadoran family who lived in El Paso for several years and belonged to the Lutheran Church around the corner from my house (which serves as the host for groups like the one visiting) was there, along with a Mexican interpreter.  The father of the family was deported back to El Salvador when he tried to board a plane to go work in Colorado.  He made his way back to northern Mexico, where his wife and two little girls met him.  The girls are U.S. citizens, but the family is living in Juárez hoping for an immigration reform in the U.S. that would allow the parents to move back, especially because they would like the girls to go to schools in the U.S.  The family also has two more daughters (ages 10 and 13 I believe) who are living in El Salvador with their grandmother.  Such a mess.  The interpreter lived in the U.S. illegally until she was 12 with older relatives who were U.S. citizens.  She talked about having to hide when social workers came to the house (I think the relatives were on some sort of housing assistance program).  As the relatives got older, they worried what would happen to the girl if something happened to them.  Therefore, she was sent back to Mexico to live with her mother.

I'll admit that the stories have started becoming all too routine to my ears.  However, what really got me was the fact that we had to talk through a fence.  It gave me the impression of bad neighbors or something.  None of the people that we were talking to were criminals, yet they're not allowed in my yard.  And while I'm allowed in theirs with my pretty blue passport, it's illegal for me to cross outside of a port of entry (and the nearest bridge was several miles east of where we were sitting).  The whole thing is just awkward.

Okay, I'll do my third installment of this entry later!

Border Immersion Part 1

This week has been a fairly slow one.  I did a postpartum interview with a woman on Tuesday afternoon and was able to transcribe it on Wednesday morning, so that was productive.  And I also did some really cool analysis of EMS data from Texas regarding obstetric-related transports.  But other than that, I spent most of my time hanging out with a high school group from Minnesota that is down here for a week to participate in a border immersion program.

On Monday, I went with this group to a few Colonias in El Paso.  Colonias are basically small rural communities that sit close to the U.S.-Mexico border.  There are several hundred of these just in El Paso and several thousand just in the state of Texas.  I drove to the Colonias with Laura, a promotora who works out there.  She was super cool- I really enjoyed learning about her health promotion work and hearing about her experience migrating from Juárez 13 years ago.  And I actually got notified of the Supreme Court's ruling on SB1070 while I was in her car, which seemed quite fitting!

Our first stop was a trailer, where we visited a mother and her adult son who has cerebral palsy.  They are undocumented and the mother shared with us the incredible story of how some young men carried her son (in his wheelchair) across the Rio Grande into the United States several years ago.  They are from Juárez and the reason they came was that although they had health care coverage, there were not many available resources for individuals with disabilities.  Further, the parents were not making much money working (the woman worked in a factory) and were thus struggling economically.  Now, living in El Paso, the family still has many problems.  Their home is certainly adequate, but the woman and her husband attempted to build a wheelchair ramp themselves, which is falling apart.  Therefore, it's very difficult to get the son out of the house to go to doctor's appointments or to just be around other people.  Because they're undocumented, the mother is often afraid to drive anyway, so they're pretty much home-bound.  Additionally, they don't qualify for Medicare or Medicaid, so they rely heavily on the promotoras and on the kindness of others, especially for help with the son.  Although it was a sad story, it was an overall pleasant visit that ended with sharing sweets and orange juice.

I don't like the idea of taking pictures of peoples' houses as "poverty tourism".  But I did take a picture of one of the Colonias that we drove through:

I saw many abandoned or ruined homes like this one throughout the day.  The amount of litter on the ground was also very noteworthy.  Laura told me that there is trash pick-up in some of the Colonias, but she feels like a lot of the people who live there aren't accustomed to throwing trash in barrels.  I guess this isn't surprising, as most of the rural parts of Juárez that I've been to are also strewn with garbage for lack of trash pick-up, and Laura said that most of the Colonias are populated with Juarenses.  

The Colonias vary in how much access they have to a variety of important things.  For example, some have access to piped water and sanitation, while others don't.  Some have access to school buses, while others don't.  Most have access to electricity, but some still don't.  To be honest, I really felt like I had crossed into Mexico when I was there; it was incredibly mind-blowing to see this lack of infrastructure within the United States.

Our next stop on Monday was the Socorro Mission:

It's basically a really old church, but was cool to visit nonetheless.  Before heading back to downtown El Paso, we stopped at a giant souvenir store called Saddle Blanket.  I felt like such a tourist; they had everything from cowboy boots to earrings.  Needless to say, I didn't actually buy anything.

I just decided that I'm going to write about the rest of the week later because there is so much to say and I don't want this to become a super long entry.

Weekend adventures

I'm embarrassed by how long it has taken me to write about last weekend.  I've had a lot of down time at work this week, but instead of sitting on the computer in my office, I've been participating in a high school immersion trip (explanation in my next entry).

On Friday evening, Casa Puente (aka where I live) hosted a washers tournament.  Washers is a popular yard game in which there are two cups placed inside the ground approximately 20 feet apart.  You stand behind one cup and try to throw a washer into the opposite cup.  If it lands inside, you get 5 points.  If it is hanging over the edge, you get 3 points.  If it's within one washer's diameter from the edge of the cup, you get 1 point.  So basically it's like horseshoes, except your arms don't hurt the next day.

Anyway, I digress.  The tournament was lots of fun.  My next door neighbor, Gilberto, taught me how to throw the washers, and I actually held my own in the games (despite never winning).  We had tons of food and I met a lot of new people.  I ended up spending most of the evening with a few of the kids that live next door.  I talked to the 16-year-old girl for several hours about everything from her boyfriend to track and field to her quinceañera dress.  The saddest part was when she casually mentioned that she couldn't get a driver's license because her visa recently expired.  That also means that she can't travel anywhere outside of El Paso that requires going through a check point (such as to White Sands or to Ciudad Juárez, where she lived until she was 5 and where her grandmother still lives).  She's in a technical program in her high school so that she can become a medical assistant.  However, if she isn't able to correct her status, it will be nearly impossible to get a job with a hospital system without a social security number.  I didn't ask for all the details of her parents' status; it's possible that one of them is a legal permanent resident that can become a citizen and then pay the fines to correct her status before she's an adult.  I just don't know how likely that is.  She is so mature for a 16-year-old that it kind of scared me.  She knows how much her parents pay for rent and speaks very intelligently in both English and Spanish.  I feel like she's probably been forced to grow up very quickly as the oldest child, having to interpret for her parents and help take care of her younger sister (age 10) and brother (age 6).  I hope that she and I are able to hang out more this summer.


On Saturday evening, I went to Juárez with Tom and several other people for the celebration of Peter's 89th birthday and 60th anniversary as a priest.  It started with Mass at one of the parishes Peter serves at:

The service was beautiful.  My favorite part was at the end when he requested that all nuns present in the congregation go up to be introduced and celebrated:

After Mass, we went upstairs for a party.  Women from the community made a delicious meal, complete with aguas frescas (melón y limón) and cake.  I also got a chance to talk to several cool gringos who have known Peter and Betty throughout the years and came down from Phoenix, San Antonio, etc. to celebrate.  (By the way, in the above photo, Betty is to the left of the woman wearing a black shirt.)

Saturday was the first time I was in Juárez after dark.  A professor of sociology/anthropology at UTEP drove Tom and I home and unfortunately got very lost.  Therefore, we got quite the tour of the city's nightlife.  I was actually pleasantly surprised to find that locals were out at night.  We passed by several BBQs and novios walking around or making out on the sidewalk.  I expected the streets to be nearly deserted after sunset, but it was about 10pm by the time we got back to the bridge.  I reflected on this with a couple of people, and everyone told me that Juarenses are just used to the violence and sick of trying to avoid it.  That certainly makes sense to me, although I will also say that getting lost at night in a nice car while in a very under-developed portion of the city made me more nervous than I've been all summer.

Livin' the dream

Things with my study are impossibly slow.  I still haven't enrolled any more participants in my study.  Two more women in El Paso delivered, but (understandably) they want to wait a little bit longer to do the second interview so that they can adjust to being mothers and whatnot.  Hopefully I'll be able to do those next week.  Somewhere between 1 and 4 of the women in Juárez have delivered, but getting in touch with them is a huge chore.  I have a Mexican cell phone, so I texted and called them all today.  No responses yet, though.  I'm not too hopeful that they're going to respond, but maybe I'm just cynical after spending half of my time at Good Samaritan Clinic in Savannah trying to chase down patients...and that was when we were providing them free medical services.  I know that at least one woman on the Mexican side had a C-section, so I really can't afford to lose people to follow-up if I'm going to find anything useful this summer.  My next step might be to just sit myself in an office at the university that's partnering with me there and call people incessantly.

Anyway, the border life continues to be super interesting.  Yesterday after work, I went to the Border Farm Workers Center:

It is located literally yards from the border.  In the picture below, which is taken from the same spot where I took the above picture, the building on the left is the Presidencia in Juárez.  The physical border is just past where you see the freight train. 

I went to the center with a group of 7 people who came down from New Mexico State University.  This week, they were hosting an immigration policy conference.  I wish I had been able to go up to the actual conference in Las Cruces, but it's not easy to go back and forth as one pleases without a car.  

The center serves as a resource for farm workers.  They provide dinner every night and a safe space to sleep while also doing community organizing.  

Our evening began with dinner.  I felt really awkward that all of us sat at one table and were served by a couple of the men there.  It was a surprisingly well-balanced meal; I asked for a vegetarian plate, which was steamed mixed veggies, pinto beans, and Spaghetti-Os. It wasn't necessarily delicious, but it provided a nice combination of vegetables, protein, and carbohydrates, which made me happy since I suspect that most of the workers have cardio-metabolic health issues.

After that, our group broke up into pairs and sat down at tables that were scattered across the main room.  There were probably about 40 farm workers sitting around the room in metal folding chairs next to their belongings (a small bag or two) when we entered.  They were almost exclusively men and, much to my surprise, all appeared to be over the age of 50.  (What's going to happen to farm work when this generation retires/dies?) The director, Carlos, explained to the group that we were going to sit in four separate groups to talk about immigration.  Four of the members of the delegation were going to take notes so that we could all report back to the big group after our little break-out session.  The workers all seemed kind of reluctant...or maybe they were just exhausted.  It was already 6pm; they usually go to bed between 8 and 9 so they can be up at 2pm to leave for the fields, which are about 2 hours away.  

My group was led by a woman who actually chairs the board of the center.  She is originally from Juárez and worked in the maquilas when she was a youth before migrating to El Paso.  She's currently a community organizer somewhere in southern New Mexico.  All of the men in my group were from the state of Durango, which is just south of Chihuahua (the state where Ciudad Juárez is), and they were all over the age of 60.  They have all also been in the United States since before 1986, when IRCA was enacted (commonly referred to as the "amnesty act"), meaning that all of them are in the U.S. legally.

I felt very uncomfortable sitting at a table as the token white educated female U.S.-citizen talking about migration, which is probably a good thing.  It initially crossed my mind that I could mention my own family's migration story, including the fact that the last several years of my life have been a migration in which I sought out opportunities that led me farther and farther from my "home."  I also thought that maybe I should mention my work with Hispanic migrants as a justification for why I was there.  But instead I sat quietly and listened, only speaking to ask clarifying questions since I'm still not familiar with a lot of areas in this region.

It was an incredibly powerful experience to hear the thoughts of the people who are so strongly affected by immigration policy, yet who are routinely excluded from the conversation.  It was also very challenging.  Farm workers are, as a general rule, the most uneducated group of migrants.  The men at my table were all mumblers, and had a hard time articulating their thoughts.  Maybe they're not used to being asked about their experiences and opinions.  And maybe they would have been more comfortable sharing if I wasn't present.  

These men were too young to have been Braceros (click here to learn more about the Bracero program, which ended in 1964).  However, they knew about the plight of the Braceros, including the current struggle for these now elderly men to reclaim the 10% of their wages that went to the Mexican government.  They also unanimously said that another Bracero (or general guest worker) program would be beneficial, although Carlos told us that a survey of the farm workers a decade ago had the complete opposite finding.  

It was really interesting to see the way our 30 minute conversation went.  We started by talking about why the men migrated.  Then we talked about the problems that they face: low wages, long hours, a complete lack of health care, discrimination, separation from family, a lack of English skills, etc.  Many of them mentioned problems accessing Social Security because if their contractors didn't file the correct papers with the government, it looks like they've never worked.  They also talked about how there is less and less farm work to be done due to the increase of technology.  However, after going through all of the problems, all of the men agreed that things are way better for them than they would be if they had stayed in Durango.  They are very, very poor, yet they feel blessed to have work and food and clean water, which many of them said they did not have before migration.  

Much to my initial dismay, they didn't want to talk about current immigration policies with me after we finished.  I mentioned that I've been living in Georgia for the past two years, hoping to get a reaction to the state's anti-immigrant legislation.  I also brought up Obama's recent announcement that deportations would end for people who would qualify for the DREAM Act.  I had to take a step back and realize that normally when I'm talking about this stuff, it's either with people who are exactly like me or with immigrants who are more directly affected by those particular policies (aka people who are undocumented).  

As I was reflecting on this as I was leaving, I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of seeing this sign in the lobby:

Today I spent 3 hours on a tele-conference regarding childhood obesity in the U.S. and Mexico.  There were people on the line from border state health departments, the NIH, the CDC, PSI, and several health institutes in Mexico.  The guy in charge of IT for my office was in charge of progressing the slides for the 6 presenters, so it was really cool to sit in our big boardroom with him.  The presentations were all interesting, and it was cool to hear the brainstorming that took place about how to create public health interventions.  I feel so privileged to be at the literal epicenter of border health this summer!  And now I'm even more pumped to begin my pregnancy-associated nutrition internship at the CDC when I get back to Atlanta! 

Oh, I finally got the first installment of my grant on Wednesday!  The check was dated May 22, but they mailed it to the wrong address.  Better late than never! :)