Hondurans fleeing violence: 'There is no other option'
Martin Reischke
October 20, 2018
Despite numerous obstacles and no guarantees of success, thousands of Honduran men and women escaping grinding poverty and violence at home have set off on foot for the US in search of a better life.
Image: DW/M. Reischke
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On Thursday afternoon, the situation was a little more relaxed at the Casa del Migrante, a hostel for migrants on the outskirts of Guatemala City's historic center. Helpers were sorting clothes and food in the three-story building, and some tired people were resting on improvised beds in the facility's gymnasium. After all, the caravan had long since moved on.
The evening before, several thousand people had sought shelter in the migrant hostel, which is actually equipped for only 70 people. It was possible to offer everyone safe accommodation for the night with the help of a nearby Catholic school that had opened its doors. But by the early morning Thursday, the caravan was in motion again. The next destination: Mexico.
The Casa del Migrante way station outside Guatemala City helps immigrants on their way to the USImage: DW/M. Reischke
Mario is one of the few who stayed at the Casa del Migrante. He hadn't reached the hostel until dawn, and now he's waiting here for his sister, who is also making her way to the US.
"I wanted to try before, but there was never enough money," says Mario. "Now it's much easier to travel together with so many other people." He's walked more than 300 kilometers (186 miles) in the past few days. "We don't want to go back," says Mario. "At home we either die of poverty or are murdered by youth gangs."
The 41-year-old has left his wife and three children behind. "It is very hard, but there is no other option for me than to leave Honduras." He was earning 3000 Lempiras (about €100, $115) a month as a plumber, which was not enough to support his family, even in Honduras. In addition, there was a constant fear of the "Pandillas," youth gangs that terrorize whole city districts.
"The gangs want girls who are 10 or 11 years old to already belong to the Pandillas," says Mario. "Anyone who doesn't go along with this is murdered." He has already lost a son like this. "That's the fear I always carry around with me," he says. "And that's why I want to get my family out of there, so they can finally be safe."
He waited 10 hours on the border between his homeland and Guatemala before the Guatemalan authorities finally let people in. Now he hopes that Mexico will also open its borders to the caravan of people. Migrants have experienced a great deal of solidarity along the way. "People have given us food and drink, some of us were even driven in buses," says Mario.
Image: Getty Images/J. Moore
The migrant hostel's director in Guatemala City has also praised the Guatemalan people's helpfulness. "They know difficult times from the civil war and are used to showing solidarity," says Mauro Verzeletti. He welcomed the Guatemalan government's decision not to hold the migrants back. "It is an important step not to criminalize them." Since 2006, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala and Nicaragua have had a mutual agreement granting freedom of movement to people in the region.
"Donald Trump should remember that he too is a human being," says Mario. "He, who already has everything, should also give other people a chance to live in humane conditions."
Honduran refugees risk their lives to get to US border
Refugees from Central America are trying to draw attention to the human rights abuses they face while trying to get to the US. Sanne Derks documented their experiences in and around a shelter in Apizaco, Mexico.
Image: Getty Images/D. McNew
On the move
Most Central American migrants travel on top of cargo trains, to reduce the risk of being stopped and deported. Buses are more often stopped by migration officers. Crossing the American border is a challenge. In case they cannot afford a "coyote" — a human trafficker— many of the young men consider carrying drugs as a means to pay for the border crossing that is controlled by drug cartels.
Image: DW/S. Derks
Risking life and limb
Catching a moving train is not without danger: Alex Garcia, who used to be a farmer, lost his leg while trying to get off a moving train. He is recovering at a refugee shelter and doesn't know where to go afterwards.
Image: DW/S. Derks
Keeping a low profile
According to Miquel Angel (above) the biggest risk along the road is being kidnapped by organized criminal groups, like the Zetas. Most migrants do not carry a cellphone or a notebook, in case they are caught and extorted.
Image: DW/S. Derks
Respite from the hazardous journey
The migrants try to find shelter along the route in one of Mexico’s 52 albergues, or shelters. In Apizaco they are allowed 24 hours to rest, except when they are the victim of a crime or accident. All four men in the picture have permission to stay longer, as they were either shot or otherwise physically injured during their journey.
Image: DW/S. Derks
The waiting game
Sometimes the migrants have to wait for days for the next train. Delmin Flores (center), and his two cousins Alejandro Deras and Luis Deras sit in the sun for hours in front of the shelter. They were forced to leave their coffee-growing region in Honduras after coffee prices plummeted. At night, they risk being robbed or killed by organ trade traffickers.
Image: DW/S. Derks
Clambering to safety
Hardly any children or women take the journey by train. The risk of falling into the hands of traffickers or being violated is very high. This woman and child are accompanied by the husband, who has tried the journey more than 17 times.
Image: DW/S. Derks
A close call
Herdin Varga recounts how he was shot by a guard on the train. The bullets hit him in his arm and neck. One centimeter to the right and he would be dead. He's been given permission to recover in the shelter and is in the process of requesting a temporary permit to travel Mexico so that he can continue his trip by bus.
Image: DW/S. Derks
Praying for safe passage
The shelter was founded and funded in 2010 by the Catholic priest Ramiro Sanchez. It later turned into a civil organization, independent of the government. Before meals are served, refugees pray together. Many of the migrants are religious and believe that God will provide protection during their journey.
Image: DW/S. Derks
On the outside looking in
If they've checked out of the shelter, migrants cannot enter again to spend the night. This rule has been installed to protect the safety of the employees who fear that the migrants may have been come into contact with human traffickers. "The shelter is for humanitarian aid, not for people making business out of it," shelter employee Sergio Luna told DW.
Image: DW/S. Derks
All in vain
This group of migrants boarded the only train that passed that day, but it stopped immediately after leaving the railway station. They were forced to walk back to the shelter and try their luck next time.
