Category Archives: Reflections

This heat is real.

The weather was good to us yesterday in the field. Clouds blocked the sun for most of the day, and so we were able to work until noon without the heat slowing us down. We weren’t so lucky today.

We arrive at the site every day around 5:45am to get a head start before the sun comes up. The humidity and accompanying mosquitoes are always around, but these factors don’t slow us down. Today, however, the clouds were scarce and the sun was fierce by 10:30am. Spending most of our time with our knees on the ground and our heads near the dirt, our immobile positions left us extremely vulnerable to the sun and it wasn’t long until our backs and arms began to cook. We quickly moved the tents we had over our quadrants to protect ourselves as we tediously troweled our trenches. With the tents overhead and our water bottles nearby, we were able to work efficiently and carefully in the rough environment. I moved from group to group to monitor and assist different teams of students. Sometimes I ended up helping for over half an hour without a break. It’s easy to lose track of time at the field, and I learned quickly after lunch that my carelessness had gotten the best of me.

After lunch, I started working on our quadrant again, shoveling and carrying buckets full of dirt as we continued our excavation. But I was only able to carry about two buckets before I knew that I wasn’t feeling quite right. I stepped off to the shade, chugged half of my bottle of water, and sat with some Baylor students under the tent. I knew I was likely sunburned and that I had worked a little too long. But I knew when to stop working to avoid heat exhaustion, and as I rested up, my brain began to work again and I really started thinking about this heat.

I looked at my water bottle and thought about how fortunate I was that I could refill it at will.

I looked up at the canopy over my head and thought about how fortunate I was that I could easily escape the sun’s brutality.

I looked towards our rental van and thought about how fortunate I was that I could go back to our hotel and take a cold shower after our work today.

This heat is real, and every day migrants are making the extremely real decision to brave the sun and fight their way through this environment for a better life, either for themselves or for their family. Many who have perished are found with only a small water bottle. I can’t imagine walking for more than half an hour in this environment with only that much water and without a constant source of shade. As we continue to work, I will make sure to let the environment constantly remind me of the bravery of these people that we are trying to identify. Every time I refill my bottle or step in the shade, I will remind myself of how lucky and thankful I am for my accessible family, for my safety, and for my good health. And I will never underestimate the danger of this environment or the courage of the migrants who fight this danger.

Ryan

Since last year’s excavation in Falfurrias, we have strived to learn more about the migrants that cross the South Texas border.  I would say, personally, my knowledge regarding our borders has been very basic.  I am a Midwesterner, which generally means that issues such as these are far enough removed that we have facts and news, but we are not personally touched by it.

Let me explain a bit what I mean by that.  I remember visiting the Lasater Ranch last year, and being told by the ranchers that they would see a procession of several people walking across their land on a regular basis, close enough to be seen clearly from the house.  Reactions to this vary.  Some landowners set out water in an attempt to prevent deaths of these migrants who are so ill prepared to cross this very dangerous land.  Ranchers know their land is so expansive it can’t feasibly be monitored completely to prohibit entrance, so prevention is the next step.

The US Border Patrol does the same thing.  A lot of people misinterpret the mission of the border patrol, preferring to hold them accountable for stopping migrants at the border, and if that fails, for finding, detaining, and deporting any person without official documentation.  This is true, but it shouldn’t be overlooked that the US Border Patrol is concerned about preventing deaths and saving lives as well.  This fact didn’t really sink in for me until we were invited last year to attend a community meeting hosted by at the Falfurrias USBP station.  The first presentation started “We were able to save XX people this week…,” which was followed by a cheer.  Success in the mission is measured in lives saved.  They then went on to discuss strategies for saving lives that included various water stations with emergency phones for those in dire need, complete with instructions in English, Spanish, and Chinese.

Recently we returned from a professional meeting in NV, where we had a discussion with Robin Reineke of the Colibri Center for Human Rights.  One topic we discussed was whether the term migrant was an appropriate designation for the people crossing our southern borders.  It was proposed that refugee might be more appropriate.  The reason behind this was clarified further by Dr. Wendy Vogt of Indiana University-Purdue University Indianapolis in a guest presentation we hosted last year at UIndy.  Dr. Vogt is a cultural anthropologist that researches the journey migrants undertake to get to US border.  She also helped to illuminate why people would risk their lives and the lives of their children to reach the US.  People leave their homes, maybe starting in South America, and risk a perilous journey across Mexico.  A lot of the migrants climb to the top of a train they deem “The Beast.”  No tickets, no chairs, no seatbelts.  And what was most shocking was that it was a regular occurrence to fall from the train and lose limbs, if not their lives.

The people she interviewed at various stages of their journeys told her their stories.  I recall one of a young man and woman fleeing their country because he was given a choice to join the local gang or be shot.  There was also a mother that was fleeing with only one of her many children, who could have been no more than 10 years old.  The mother had fallen from the train and was in a wheelchair, stranded and unable to walk again without prosthetics.

A lot of migrants come from communities where shootings and randomized violence is a daily occurrence, and their lifespan and that of their children would be greatly improved anywhere outside of their country.  These countries are the ones that our US Department of State issues travel advisories that strongly advise against visiting.  We have an option of the level of danger we wish to face, many migrants do not.  It is very difficult for me to conceptualize this, having never been faced with a lifestyle or environment in which it would be healthier to flee than stay.  The people we hope to identify in Falfurrias have gone through so much, yet they still have a long journey to get home to their families.  With a lot of hard work and even more collaboration, we can hopefully supply some answers and closure to the many families missing loved ones.

–Jessica