They Made the Long, Rough Journey to Cross the U.S. Border Alone. Here are Their Faces and Voices.
By Elliot Blumberg and Oliver Contreras October 15, 2015
“Unaccompanied” is an audio-visual story of young immigrants in the Washington, D.C. area who were among the thousands of children seeking refuge from the violence of Honduras, El Salvador and Guatemala created by photographer Oliver Contreras and CARECEN, the Central American Resource Center. Following President Obama’s statement about a humanitarian crisis on the border in the summer of 2014, these youths captured the national spotlight. Countless articles related stories of tragic and violent journeys.
Noticeably absent from some of the discourse were the voices of the youths themselves. What circumstances drove the children to seek refuge on U.S. soil? What challenges do they face adapting to a new life? “Unaccompanied” provides these youths a platform to directly share their personal stories with the public. Unaccompanied child immigrants represent an entanglement of issues in both their native and new countries. This project seeks to demonstrate the realities that youth immigrants face: the doubts, aspirations, complexity and humanity of their experience. Captions were contributed by Elliot Blumberg. Some names in this series have been changed to protect the privacy of the individuals. |
Migration Maze: Inside the Northern Triangle
By Tim Padgett October 2, 2015
IntroductionWhen images of Central American children crowding detention facilities along the U.S.-Mexico border made headlines last summer, illegal migration was deemed a crisis and Washington moved swiftly to respond. South Florida ranked third among the nation’s metropolitan areas where the minors, primarily from Honduras, were resettled. While the number of undocumented minors crossing the border has slowed significantly, the flow of migrants fleeing violence and economic hardships continues and the potential for another crisis remains very much in place.
Migration Maze is an in-depth look at the Odyssey of migrants, critical US-funded programs on the ground to persuade migrants to stay home, community efforts in South Florida to help those who opt to flee and the work of Samaritans along the migrant routes in Mexico. Part One: El Eden in Honduras is No Paradise For Those on Trek to the U.S.SAN PEDRO SULA- First in a four-part series
It seems the entire world is wrestling with immigration emergencies today. And lest you think the western hemisphere’s crisis is over, consider the look on Oscar Ortega’s face. He just got a Whatsapp message that made his eyes pop. Ortega directs the federal El Edén center in San Pedro Sula, Honduras’ second-largest city. El Edén means “Eden.” But to the folks who end up there, it’s hardly the paradise they were reaching for. Instead, it’s back to square one — the place that receives migrants who are bused back into Honduras after they’re intercepted in Mexico on their trek to the United States. On this summer morning, Ortega’s smartphone is telling him to get ready for three busloads of deportees: more than 300 people — a tenth of whom are minors traveling alone. Part Two: Some U.S.-Funded Programs Help Would Be Migrants Improve Their Lives and Stay HomeTegucigalpa- Second of a four-part series
Here’s the first thing to know about Jessel Recinos: He’s a breathtaking rollerblader. Almost every day, Recinos skates in Cofradía Park in San Pedro Sula, Honduras’ second-largest city. He spins, makes hairpin turns and takes soaring jumps, his long locks blowing like wind socks. Kids scream his name as if he were a Honduran sports icon. Here’s the second thing to know about Recinos: He should probably be dead. “These people come to kill me when I was 16 years old,” he recalls in halting English. Eight years ago, Recinos got involved with one of Honduras’ maras — the vicious street gangs that rule whole districts of San Pedro Sula, which until recently had the highest murder rate of any city in the world. One day, a rival gang member hunted him down because he thought Recinos had stolen his cellphone. “I run, and he shot me five times.” Part three: Reform and Larger Police Presence Making Hondurans Feel SaferSan Pedro Sula- Third of a four-part series
On June 26, 2014, 13-year-old Andrea Argeñal had just dropped her young cousins off at school in the Rivera Hernández section of San Pedro Sula, Honduras’ second-largest city. Relatives say it’s the sort of favor she frequently did for her family. Thugs suddenly abducted Andrea, angry that she refused to join their mara, or drug gang. They took her to a house they’d invaded — one of many criminal lairs in Honduras known ascasas locas, or madhouses. There, they tortured Andrea, raped and ultimately killed her. “The police barely responded to her disappearance,” says Andrea’s uncle, René Maradiaga, standing at the spot behind the casa loca where her body was found. “It seemed to take a good 10 to 15 days before they got serious about it.” The gangsters had already terrified many local residents into leaving Honduras for the United States — especially teenagers like Kevin Portillo, who’d been threatened by the same gang that killed Andrea. “The thing is, if a kid obeyed that gang, then a rival gang would threaten you,” says Kevin, 17, who was one of tens of thousands of Central American minors who showed up alone on the U.S. border last year. (He was deported back to Honduras months later.) Part Four: Despair Wrought by Corruption Scandals Also Drives Migration To The U.S.Tegucigalpa- Final of a four-part series
Hondurans don’t get riled easily. And they’re not known for takin’ it to the streets. But this has been a year of loud and angry torchlight protest marches in Honduras — and for good reason. The impoverished Central American country is wrestling with perhaps the worst government corruption scandal in its history. Or as Honduran protesters like Eldan Cruz put it: “Corruption on such a criminal level it’s basically sociopathic behavior.” Cruz has been helping organize demonstrations in San Pedro Sula, Honduras’ second-largest city. He’s not a left-wing radical; he’s a Canadian-educated corporate communications consultant. But he can’t contain his ire. “People identify it as a crime against humanity,” he says. Cruz may not be exaggerating. Since 2010, $350 million has been looted from Honduras’ federal health and social security institute. The plunder allegedly involved ruses such as overpaying tens of thousands of dollars for ambulances, then laundering the excess money back to corrupt institute officials through shell companies. The agency’s former director, Mario Zelaya, is accused of leading the scheme and using the cash for mansions and sports cars. He’s under arrest on a military base in the capital, Tegucigalpa, but denies the charge. A number of others, including Zelaya’s relatives and his model mistress, were also allegedly involved. But what’s far worse: Honduran doctors estimate thousands have died as a result of the theft — because they say it’s led to acute shortages of medicines and equipment. Which is why so many protesters carry skulls during their marches... |
Interview with Mario Cerna"Back to Square One"Staying SafePatrolling the StreetsCivil Unrest"THIS IS A SYSTEM THAT LAUGHS IN YOUR FACE." A corruption scandal involving the Honduran president prompted a group of young activists to use social media in a call for action. Many took notice and joined street protests that have grown into a movement against corruption, impunity and lack of opportunity.
"THE HONDURAN PEOPLE NEED THE U.S. GOVERNMENT TO TAKE A STAND AND SAY, ‘LISTEN, WE REALLY ARE FED UP." A man joins an anti-corruption protest through the streets of Tegucigalpa, Honduras, which was sparked by a social media campaign by young activists. Hondurans aren't prone to dramatic civic action, but this has been a year of loud and angry torchlight marches as the impoverished Central American country wrestles with perhaps the worst government corruption scandal in its history. PATRICK FARRELL [email protected]
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How El Salvador Fell into a Web of Gang Violence
By Jasmine Garsd October 5, 2015
Warning: Some of the depictions and images in this story are graphic.
Violence is rampant in El Salvador. In the month of August alone, there were 900 homicides. That's a daily average of 30 murders in a country with a population of 6.3 million — less than New York City. At least 35 of those murders have been officially ruled feminicides — a crime involving the violent and deliberate killing of a woman. The violence is seen largely as a product of two warring criminal gangs, MS-13 and the rival Barrio 18. There are very few spaces in the country that these gangs have not staked out. The violence is often as senseless as it is massive. Just a day after arriving in the country, our reporting team found ourselves at a grisly scene: A 15-year-old girl had been shot at close range while crossing a busy intersection. Marcela's family told us they believed she'd been murdered for living in one gang's territory but selling tortillas in another. She'd crossed the wrong street. The Rev. Gerardo Mendez, who has been a priest in San Salvador for nearly a decade, works closely with at-risk populations — youths living in areas firmly under a gang's grip. He sat down with us and answered some questions about the situation in El Salvador. Where did these gangs originate? In the U.S., in Latino neighborhoods, especially in Los Angeles. The city was divided into the Chinese neighborhood, the black neighborhood and then the Latinos. Among the Latino population, there were two notable groups: Mexicans and Salvadorans. Salvadorans became a presence in Los Angeles in the period between 1980 and 1992, which was the Salvadoran civil war. Who was leaving El Salvador during the civil war? Everyone. Entire families, young people, and both army and guerrilla deserters. And in Los Angeles, these Latino groups, like African-American groups, lived a difficult, marginalized life... |
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The Surreal Reasons Girls are Disappearing in El Salvador #15girls
By Kelly Mcevers & Jasmine Garsd October 5, 2015
In many countries, the decisions teens make at 15 can determine the rest of their lives. But, often, girls don't have much say — parents, culture and tradition decide for them. In a new series, #15Girls, NPR explores the lives of 15-year-old girls who are seeking to take control and change their fate. Warning: Some of the depictions and images in this story are graphic.
It's our first morning in El Salvador's capital. We're eating breakfast and we get a call from a local reporter we know. There's a crime scene, he says. A girl. You should come. We take a taxi to what looks like a major intersection in San Salvador. When we get there, we look around. And then we see her, slumped on a street corner. The girl is dead. She's 15 years old and her name is Marcela. Witnesses tell us she was executed by a gang member We can't see her face. All we can see is her plaid pants and gray T-shirt. Her family is across the street in a pickup truck. We can't tell you their names because it would put them in danger. Marcela's mother is too upset to talk. So, we talk to her grandmother. She says Marcela left the house that morning with her sister. The two worked in downtown San Salvador, the capitol of El Salvador, making tortillas. The grandmother tells us that Marcela's boyfriend was a bus driver in a gang-controlled neighborhood. First, he got threats. "Help the gang or we'll kill you." Then he disappeared. |
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