Bulletin Board: Ciudad Hidalgo, Chiapas, Mexico

There are the people the migrants know to be afraid of—the police, Border Patrol, the tattooed gangsters. Then there are the incognito migration profiteers. They pretend to be coyotes, human smugglers. Or they hide in the bushes in order to raid and rob and rape migrants passing quietly by. Now that Mexico has leveraged US dollars to crack down on migration, explain the staff at the migrant shelters that string north like an underground railroad, those bound for the States are being pushed toward routes where they’re at greater risk of exploitation.

This particular bulletin board is in the Belén shelter, one of the southernmost in Mexico. The day before yesterday, three sets of parents arrived from El Salvador, fleeing gangs. They’re headed for Baja California where they know a guy who can get them jobs. Tomorrow, along with another Salvadoran couple and their eight-year-old daughter, they’ll hit the road early—first on buses; then, when a checkpoint comes into view, they’ll offload and head for the hills. “You never know what can happen off the road,” one woman told me, motioning to the bulletin board. She was sorting her belongings into piles: things to bring and things to mail to Baja. A sweater and clean pants went into the “keep” pile; a brand new satin bra, tags still on, and a jar of beans (too heavy) were tossed in the pile to send. She placed a jar of cream on top of the “keep” pile—foot balm to soothe the cracks and blisters. “It’s going to be a lot of walking,” the eight-year-old told me, “but I’m really strong.” She snatched up the foot cream, removed her shoes, and began massaging the soft pads of her feet.