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Rains Turn Squalid Migrant Camp Near California Border Into Scene of Fetid Misery
A downpour quickly flooded the open-air complex sheltering arrivals from Central America, reducing their few belongings to a soggy mess.
Photographs by!-- --
TIJUANA, Mexico — The skies opened before the border did.
A downpour, a blessing for this rain-starved region of Mexico, was a curse for thousands of migrants parked in a squalid encampment.
Having started lightly overnight, the storm unleashed its full fury Thursday morning, quickly flooding the open-air sports complex near downtown Tijuana where most members of a migrant caravan from Central America have been parked since they started arriving two weeks ago.
Within hours, nothing was left on the spit of dirt many had claimed and inhabited — in a tent, or a lean-to fashioned from plastic, blankets and tarp — except fetid muck. The little they had was reduced to piles of soggy blankets, backpacks and stuffed animals they struggled to protect under plastic sheets.
Up to an inch of rain pounded Tijuana every hour, according to local meteorologists.
Some families sought refuge under a large, overcrowded, open-sided tent. Madeline Julissa, 8, stood clutching a baby doll whose body was drier, and better covered, than her own; the girl wore a summer top and damp pants pushed up to mid-thigh. Her family of three, including her mother and baby sister, had lost their shelter, fashioned from plastic and tarp, to the heavy rainfall.
Mothers wrapped babies in dirty blankets to keep them warm and dry. But they often lost sight of young children who could not resist playing in the rain, jumping in a dark, filthy river of water that lapped the sidewalk outside the encampment.
A cacophony of coughs emanated from every corner and from inside tents — the ones still standing, which seemed to float on pools of muck. The rain raised widespread concerns about the spread of illnesses. So far, the Baja California state health department has provided medical care to about 2,200 people, mostly for respiratory infections.
The migrants, mainly from Honduras and El Salvador, are desperate to start a new life in the United States. But for those who wish to apply for asylum, likely a minority, it will be weeks before they get the chance to present themselves at the San Ysidro checkpoint to make an asylum claim. Only 40 to 100 people a day are being processed by Customs and Border Protection.
Despite the competition for scarce resources, including free meals and donated clothing, there were gestures of compassion and camaraderie among the refugees. People worked together to move tents, and helped salvage each other's possessions and care for the sick.
There was a plan by Mexican authorities to open another shelter before the storm. But it didn't materialize in time.
Migrants helped their neighbors protect tents that were being soaked with rain. Angeli Guadalupe, 11, whose little brother slept inside, shivered as she watched them. But it was no use: Rain water seeped in from above and below.
Limbs and shoes were kept out of tents to avoid bringing mud inside during the downpour. At one tent, an ailing man hung his head outside to vomit.
A group of migrants who found refuge under a large open-sided tent slept close together on the dirt to keep warm. The sound of rain and coughing could be heard everywhere. Mothers picked lice, which have infested the camp, out of their children's hair.
Arlen Cruz, 22, cradled her 2-year-old daughter and tried to draw strength from a Bible her husband offered her. But praying did little to slow the rain water, which swept both garbage and treasured belongings down through the camp in rushing currents.
After journeying, in some cases, thousands of miles to reach the border, few at the camp felt they had anywhere to go. They were cold and wet, yet there was nowhere to get dry. "We must endure. We can't afford a room or a hotel," said Samuel Sorto, a migrant from Honduras whose family had to abandon their lean-to.
Madeline Julissa, 8, along with her mother and baby sister, was hoping to join her father in Miami. "If someone turns themself into immigration, what are the chances they will be allowed in?" her mother, Sandra Julissa, 29, wondered aloud. Their shelter destroyed in the rain, they stuffed all they had left into three bags.
Emi Escobar, 10, walked gingerly as she returned to her tent after using a portable toilet. But there was no way around the brown sludge that seeped into shoes, socks and tents.
Some children played, oblivious to the deluge, while parents tried to keep their babies safe and dry.
Respiratory illnesses had spread even before the rain. Valter Gutierrez, 12, who was feverish, huddled in a tent with his family. Not far away, a girl named Ashley, 7, was with her family, who said they had fled poverty and gangs in Honduras.
When would their purgatory in the camp end, and what would come next? No one was sure, said Ashley's father, José Paz. "We don't know how we will cross into America."
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