Encounters with G4S Drivers

My encounters with two bus drivers of G4S, the private company that Border Patrol contracts to transport migrants from the desert to Tucson, to prison, and from prison to Mexico. Most every time I pass the buses I stop to offer food and water to the migrants on the bus.

Bus Driver 1:

I wonder if he believed what he said referring to the Mexican and Central American migrants that he drives as “Indians” or if he was just trying to upset me. I wonder where he got his sense of power, waving me away without looking me in the eye. I wonder where he lost his sense of compassion, saying the migrants would be so hungry that they would eat any food I gave them even if they were allergic to it. I wonder if he spoke Spanish, or even knew the reasons that people filled his bus.

Bus Driver 2:

I wonder how it felt for him to actively assist his own people being transported to prison. I wonder what it is like for him, being from Nogales Mexico, where many of those migrants who sat on his bus had crossed into the United States. There is little doubt he had experienced police stopping him on the street in Tucson when he was out of uniform to ask him for his ID. I wonder what he was thinking when he told me I could not enter the bus to give food and water to the 18 people on board. I wonder whether he regretted not allowing me to say a few simple words of encouragement, of testimony that not everyone in this country thinks it is right to detain them in prisons, and to deport them to some of the most dangerous cities in the world. I wonder what he was thinking about when he told us we would go to heaven for what we were doing -- or when we replied that we hoped we would all go to heaven. I wonder what those 18 migrants on the bus thought as they waved and smiled at us through the tinted windows. I hope they knew we considered them strong, and brave, and beautiful -- as equals, as brothers and sisters. It was hard to see them so -- through the tinted window waving and smiling. It was hard, but I also felt hope in their strength to smile and wave despite their situation, their courage, despite their coming future in prison for who knows how long. I could learn something from that.

Here is a New York Times article with more information about G4S and private prison companies in general worldwide:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/29/world/asia/getting-tough-on-immigrants-to-turn-a-profit.html?_r=1&nl=todaysheadlines&emc=tha2

Here is a quote from the article about G4S: "In 2007, Western Australia’s Human Rights Commission found that G4S drivers had ignored the cries of detainees locked in a scorching van, leaving them so dehydrated that one drank his own urine. The company was ordered to pay $500,000 for inhumane treatment, but three of the five victims already had been deported. Immigration officials, relying on company misinformation, had dismissed their complaints without investigation, the commission found."

-Berit

Arivaca Community Garden

After milking the goats, Megan and I spent a few hours volunteering at the Arivaca community garden. We got free veggies and a big watermelon in exchange for harvesting tomatoes, peppers, and eggplant. I can’t say I thought this would be an event to write about, until the king showed up. Quite randomly (apparently because of security concerns about disclosing information about his visit earlier), a king from Nigeria showed up. He toured the garden, got some loving from Smatt’s dog (who had to be tied up for jumping on the kings leather shoes), and blessed the garden and all of the food. We were asked to take a picture. Megan had the honor of standing right next to him. So there we were, in our dirty garden clothes, standing with a king from Nigeria. Arivaca is a town of about 900 people, but from the stories you hear told and the people you meet on a day-to-day basis, it has the culture, and diversity of thought and experience of a large city!

Goat

One morning we got up early to go watch Smatt, our neighbor, milk goats. Megan had the lucky fortune of feeding one of them. Apparently she was a sickly goat, so she was raised inside a house as more of a pet that a farm animal. As a result, she is much more like a dog then a goat. The whole time all the other goats were being milked she was capering around as if we were fellow playmates. She has quite some strength for such a small little thing! We got some delicious goat cheese as a result of our outing.

Culture of Cruelty Report

For those of you who didn't hear about the Culture of Cruelty......

No More Deaths just released their report called, "A Culture of Cruelty." The report documents abuses suffered by migrants from U.S Border Patrol. There are more than 30,000 incidents of abuse documented in the last three years. If you have a chance, and agree that these abuses should stop, please sign the petition on the website: http://www.cultureofcruelty.org/

Once you are on the website, just click on the "take action" link and you can sign the petition.

All the abuse documentation and desert aid work I have done in Arizona through No More Deaths is represented in this report. Your signature will be sent directly to the Department of Homeland Security, with each signature putting more pressure on the Department to stop these abuses.

I've been in Arizona for less than two weeks and I've already seen a lot of the injustices represented in the report happening around me. If you have any questions about the situation, the report, or anything related to the border and southern Arizona, please be in touch.

Thanks so much,

Berit

Arivaca Lake Shrine

Megan and I hiked to the Arivaca Lake shrine. Yup, there are lakes in the Sonoran desert. Though I had been there before, with the tall grasses and lots of desert life that comes after the rains, it looked completely different than I remembered. I guess I thought of the desert as being fairly similar from one season to next compared to Minnesota. Not true. Winter and summer look entirely different out here.

The shrine we hiked to is one of the places No More Deaths leaves gallons of water, it is located on a migrant trail. The shrine has been and continues to be created by migrants as they pass through, a sacred place in the desert. It always amazes me that people bring heavy glass candles despite the rugged terrain and extremely difficult crossing conditions (people are often out for days without much food or water), and usually only bring a small backpack to transport their things.

The photographs show the shrine, water that No More Deaths has left, and a pair of pants. When hiking migrant trails there are constant reminders that people have been there in the clothing and belongings they have to leave behind (either because it becomes too much of a burden, or they leave it just before being picked up, among other reasons). There are also a couple photographs of the surrounding mountains and views we had while hiking.