Los Angeles Times - 06.04.2020

A2 MONDAY, APRIL 6, 2020 LATIMES.COM

PERSPECTIVES

MATAMOROS, Mexico
—Scores of tents are pitched
side by side, some home to as
many as six people.
Residents wash at com-
munal showers and sinks,
line up in tight queues for
evening meals, and gather
after dark to socialize and
sing evangelicalmelodies.
Smoke from campfires
and swirling dust nurture
colds, coughing jags and a
wide range of other respira-
tory ailments.
The rudimentary condi-
tions faced by some 2,
asylum seekers camped out
here along the Rio Grande
have long been denounced
as an appalling tableau, just
100 yards from the border
with Brownsville, Texas.
But now a deadly new
threat is casting a dark
shadow.
“The overcrowding here
obviously increases the
possibility of an outbreak
of COVID,” said Valerio
Granelloof Doctors Without
Borders, the international
humanitarian group.
To date, only a handful of
camp inhabitants have been
tested for the coronavirus,
and there has not been a sin-
gle confirmed case among
the mostly Central Ameri-
cans and Mexicansseeking
political asylum in the
United States. Many have
been stuck here for months,
sitting it out while their
cases remain virtually mori-
bund in U.S. immigration
courts as part of the Trump
administration’s Migrant
Protection Protocols, infor-
mally known as Remain in
Mexico.
The pandemic has
prompted U.S. authorities
to suspend hearings for
those waiting in Mexico until
at least May 1. There is no
end in sight to the prolonged
process.
The marooned migrants
are extremely vulnerable,
health professionals say, at a
moment when much of the
world is under lockdown.
Physicians fear that an out-
break may be inevitable,
likely requiring evacuation
and isolation of many, if not
most, camp dwellers. It is
unclear where any migrant
stricken with coronavirus
would be taken.
“There is a great risk for
an outbreak of coronavirus
here,” said Dairon Elisondo
Rojas, a Cuban doctor (and
also a U.S. asylum appli-
cant) with Global Response
Management, a Florida-
based nonprofit that is one
of the few aid organizations
still on site since U.S. and
Mexican officials shut down
“nonessential” cross-border
traffic last month.
Signs posted throughout
the camp urge migrants to
wash their hands frequently,
to maintain personal dis-
tances, to expand spaces be-
tween tents. But those safe-
guards are mostly aspira-
tional in this densely popu-
lated squatterville, despite
the recent installation of 16
additional hand-washing
stations with dispensers of
sanitizing gel.
Each resident may come
in contact with as many as 50
people a day, health workers
say. Hunkering down 24/7 in
sweltering tents in the sub-
tropical heat is not an op-
tion, especially for children.
To minimize gatherings,
school sessions have been
canceled. That has only in-
tensified the daily tedium.
“We do what we can to be
as hygienic as possible, to
keep ourselves busy,” said
Ana Antúnez, 26, a mother of
three from Honduras, as she
and other residents congre-
gated by a campfire on a re-
cent afternoon, keeping an
eye on children darting amid
the tents and brush. “But we
are very limited in these
kinds of conditions. We are
all fearful of this disease.”
The majority here are
women and children. Most
are relatively young, which
may provide some defense
from the deadliness of a
virus that appears to attack
the elderly and those suffer-
ing underlying conditions
with particular vehemence.
To date,the city ofMata-
moros, home to more than
500,000, has confirmed six
cases of the coronavirus.
Mexico’s Tamaulipas state,
which includes Matamoros,
has a total of 30 confirmed
cases, with one fatality, a 54-
year-old woman with diabe-
tes who succumbed last

week in the general hospital

in the nearby border city of

Reynosa.

By contrast, neighboring

Texas had reported more

than 7,230 cases and 138

deaths as of Sunday eve-

ning.

The disparity, experts

say, probably reflects Mexi-

co’s even lower testing rate

than that across the border.

Antúnez arrived here in

December after traversing

Central America and Mexico

with her two sons, 4 and 6.

The family’s destination is

Florida, where her husband

resides with the couple’s

daughter, Dunia, 9.

Advocates have called on

the Trump administration

to reduce the threat of infec-

tion by permitting tens of

thousands ofstranded asy-

lum seekers — from Mata-

moros on the Gulf of Mexico

to Tijuana on the Pacific —

to await court hearings with

relatives in the United

States. That would provide a

safer alternative, advocates

argue, than cramming into

tents, cheap hotels and rent-

al flats in dangerous Mexi-

can border towns.

“The U.S. government is

pushing people who are in

the process of seeking asy-

lum, including children, to

live in unhygienic conditions

that unnecessarily increase

their risk of contracting the

coronavirus,” said Ariana

Sawyer, border researcher

at Human Rights Watch.

But allowing migrants to

await adjudications in the

United States seems ex-

tremely unlikely, given Pres-

ident Trump’s hostility to

immigration coupled with

anxieties about the spread

of the virus.

The asylum seekers must

remain in Mexico until their

petitions are decided on a

case-by-case basis, U.S. au-

thorities insist. A corner-

stone principle of Trump’s

immigration crackdown is

to end “catch and release”

policies that, the adminis-

tration argues, allowed

many bogus asylum seekers

to enter U.S. territory.

Antúnez, who said her

family fled gang violence in

Honduras, attended an ini-

tial hearing in an immigra-

tion tent court in

Brownsville on Feb. 26; a fol-

low-up is scheduled for June

25. She has thus far resisted
    Mexico’s offer of a free bus
    trip back almost 1,000 miles

to the border with Guate-

mala.

“I’m very concerned that

we could all be infected by

staying here,” Antúnez said.

“But my major concern now

is to see my daughter again,

to be with my family. So for

now I will stay.”

Antúnez’s neighbor,

Migdalia Hernández, ar-

rived from El Salvadorin Oc-

tober with an infant daugh-

ter and her 10-year-old girl.

She has a hearing scheduled

for April 23 — but that is

slated to be pushed back as

part of Washington’s re-

sponse to the coronavirus.

“I’ll wait here until I need

to, despite the virus,” said

Hernández, 30, who hopes to

be reunited with loved ones

in Northern California. “At

this point,” she added, “we

are all in God’s hands.”

Doctors Without Borders

provides psychological

counseling for those strug-

gling with multiple issues —

squalid living conditions,

separation from families,

uncertain fates and the omi-

nous prospect of the pan-

demic.

The camp, which has the

feel of a Latin American vil-

lage, is situated just south of

the international bridge to

Brownsville. The normally

traffic-jammed bridge and

bustling immigration com-

plexes on both sides are now

eerily quiet, becalmed out-

posts in times of co-

ronavirus.

Camp conditions have

improved slightly in recent

months, as Mexico moved

residents off the bridge ap-

proaches and onto this

dusty, half-mile river-side

strip, beneath stands of pine

and mesquite.

Tents coexist with some-

times elaborate kitchens

and dining areas crafted of

branches topped with plas-

tic sheets. Women cook tor-

tillas and rice on wood-fire

grills situated on blocks of

stone or bricks or atop wash-

ing-machine drums sal-

vaged from junkyards and

employed as braziers. Mexi-

can authorities fill abundant

shared water vats, collect

the trash and provide elec-

tricity for lighting posts and

a cellphone charging sta-

tion, which is among the

site’s most popular hang-

outs. A shop sells basics like

water and soft drinks, while

donated clothing is dis-

pensed from a makeshift

storefront.

Occasional bike riders

navigate the dirt track flank-

ing the camp, while joggers

trot on a nearby river levee.

There are showers for

personal bathing and sinks

for washing clothing, while

big-top tarpaulins provide

some cover for rows of

pitched tents. Port-a-

potties serve as toilets. Men

kick soccer balls on a pair of

cement basketball courts.

Drying garments strung

from ubiquitous clothes-

lines flutter in the breeze.

No fence hems in the site.

People are free to come and

go. But few seem to venture

far, except for basic shop-

ping and U.S. court appear-

ances. Wandering afield

poses a danger: Matamoros,

like other Mexican border

towns, is a hub for extortion

gangs that regularly kidnap

migrants and demand ran-

soms from U.S. relatives,

under threat of death.

On a recent visit here, few

camp residents were wear-

ing masks — with the nota-

ble exception of a pair of bar-

bers, themselves Central

American migrants, who

meticulously served clients

beneath the shade of pine

trees. Their jobs preclude so-

cial distancing.

In recent weeks, the

plethora of U.S. aid groups

that once provided clothing,

food and legal counseling

has largely evaporated. Le-

gal advice can only be found

via phone, so fewer people

have lawyers for their often-

complex cases, greatly re-

ducing their chances of at-

taining asylum. The remain-

ing contingent of interna-

tional aid staffers typically

stays in Matamoros.

“No one wants to be the

one who brings coronavirus

to the camp,” noted Samuel

Bishop, project coordinator

here for Global Response

Management, which has a

support trailer on site.

Each day, Bishop noted,

his group does random tem-

perature checks on about 50

residents.

The nonprofit also plans

to build a state-of-the-art,

20-bed field hospital, with

intensive-care capacity,ven-

tilators and coronavirus

testing kits, said Daniel Tay-

lor, a board member of Glob-

al Response Management.

The project awaits Mexican

government approval.

Respiratory problems

and skin irritations are the

most common ailments

among camp residents, doc-

tors say.

Mexican authorities have

long been eager to clear the

camp, though they deny

charges that residents have

been coerced into leaving.

With the looming co-

ronavirus threat, Mexican

officials say they soon plan

to relocate at least half the

population to a stadium site

about a mile away, where the

migrants will have more

space. Residents say they

object to any move. For Mex-

ican authorities, however,

the specter of an outbreak

has dramatized the urgency

of reducing chronic over-

crowding.

“They will be better taken

care of ” in the new facility,

said Matamoros Mayor

Mario Alberto López, who

noted that thesite would

have “sanitary filters,” in-

cluding temperature screen-

ingof everyone coming and

going. “We need to check the

entrances and exits so that

someone doesn’t bring in an

imported contagion.”

From the mayor’s stand-

point, the migrants, some of

whom have been squatting

here for almost a year,

should decide to either stay

in Mexico and seek legal ref-

ugee status here, or return

home to resume their lives.

“This situation has gone

on for a long time already,”

the mayor said. “I really

don’t think the United

States is going to give them

visas.”

As the sun set one recent

evening, a group of camp

dwellers sat on steps de-

scending from the river levee

and observed a near-daily

spectacle: deported Mexi-

can citizens being expelled

to Mexico from the United

States, where many had

lived for years. A Mexican

health inspector asked how

long they had been in U.S.

detention and deployed a

pistol-like forehead ther-

mometer emitting a red

beam to take each returnee’s

temperature.

“I certainly don’t want to

be deported and up back

here like these guys,” said

Norma Baltazar, 37, an asy-

lum seeker from the vi-

olence-rideen western Mexi-

can state of Guerrero.

“I want to go to the

United States legally,” ex-

plained Baltazar, who was

among the camp residents

watching the doleful lines of

returning deportees.

Like Antúnez, Baltazar

said she hoped to be reunit-

ed with her divided family,

including two daughters, 13

and 14, living with a sister in

Victorville, Calif.

“Yes, I’m worried about

the virus, we all are, but right

now my goal is to be with my

children again,” said Bal-

tazar. “That’s my main pre-

occupation now, not co-

ronavirus.”

Special correspondent Juan

José Ramírez in Matamoros

and Cecilia Sánchez in The

Times’ Mexico City bureau

contributed to this report.

Camp feels dangerously close to virus

Asylum seekers on the Mexico side of the border with the U.S. wait indefinitely in crowded conditions

By Patrick J.
McDonnell

AMEXICAN health inspector in Matamoros checks the temperatures of deportees from the U.S. “I certainly

don’t want to be deported and up back here like these guys,” said one asylum seeker watching from the camp.

Photographs byJavier Escalante TobarFor The Times

AGLOBAL RESPONSE MANAGEMENT aid center set up at the site in Matamoros, Mexico, provides

healthcare and other services to the approximately 2,000 asylum seekers camped out along the Rio Grande.

MIGDALIA HERNÁNDEZarrived at the camp from El Salvador in October with

two daughters. “I’ll wait here until I need to, despite the virus,” Hernández said.