tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62641011104008701122024-03-08T07:25:10.720-08:00Welcome to the Border LandsSome Reflections on Working with Immigrants, Life on the Border, and Personal GrowthCaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-17546247498950450732015-06-30T22:30:00.000-07:002015-06-30T22:30:28.366-07:00Well, It's Been a While (6/29/15)<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
6/29/15<o:p></o:p></div>
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My favorite nights truly are the ones when a bunch of people go to a
park near A-House (even some kids from Casa Vides make the long walk over) and
play soccer. The games always start at
7.30pm so that people have time to digest their dinner that is always eaten at
6:00pm. Our field is in the grassy area of a baseball field there, and our
goals are often between two of the players’ water bottles, though sometimes two
small red goals are brought from A-House. Tonight was the second chance that I
got to do this, as I was working the last two times. The age range of players is fairly wide: we
have kids as young as 11 there, and some men look to be in their forties. Although I am certainly not the best soccer
player, it is without a doubt my favorite sport to play, and this has by far
been my favorite venue and group of people to play with. (Sorry to my intramural soccer team from last
semester, but this is just too good!) Yes, we are competitive, but it is truly
all in good fun. It’s not the kind of competitive
one sees when people get really upset over the other team scoring or getting an
upper hand; it’s the kind of competitive where we play hard, but if a person on
the other team falls, we will laugh and help them up. (However, I am sad to admit that I often say
words that I am not proud of when I get particularly frustrated.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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I wish you all
were able to hear the shouts of “<i>ya!” </i>or<i> “a bolterro!” </i>or<i> “a Cuba!” </i>because there are two Cubans at A-House that often play
and many just call them “Cuba.” I wish you could see how <i>amazing</i> some of the people are at playing. I wish you could this mix of guest, volunteer,
and the occasional visitor sweating under a near full moon and playing what is,
in my opinion, the best sport in the world, all being conducted in Spanish.
(Sorry to those I offend by claiming this.) It is a sport that truly brings the world
together. Tomorrow, there is a soccer
game between Mexico and Honduras that the guests at A-House are going to watch,
and I plan on attending. I can only imagine the energy that is going to be in
front of their medium-sized TV there, and I know I want to be a part of it!<o:p></o:p></div>
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I have been
struggling for quite some time now on what to write about for this blog, as I
am sure is apparent. I figure I’ll just
tell you all some happenings that I find worth reporting, both from my volunteer
life and immigration life.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<ul>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">A couple of weeks ago, a new law was made that
requires immigrants that are released from detention to await their court dates
to have an ankle bracelet, sort of like those that people that are under house
arrest have.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Typically, only one person
per family has this), unless immigration has reason to believe that the family
might separate.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">If I remember correctly,
a single charge will last 14 hours per day, and then one must sit by an outlet
as it charges. However, it’s easiest to find a way to plug it in while you
sleep and have it fully charged for the next day. What is paying for all of
this do you ask? Your taxes of course! And I can only imagine how expensive
they are to get.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">We have officially received a new round of
social security guests at Casa Vides.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Chayito
and Andrea have left, my two friends that have special needs. We now have SO
MANY adolescent boys, and it can be frustrating.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">I don’t know how to deal with energetic
pre-teen and teenage boys in groups, and to be perfectly honest, I find it intimidating!
Hopefully, I can get Corey, the only male volunteer in the house, to help me
out with all of that.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Also, we recently received
a long-term family from A-House yesterday, so hopefully I get to know them
better soon.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Last week, the volunteers here at Casa Vides had
our monthly Commy Day. No, Commy Day is not a day where we celebrate communism;
it is a day we spend as a community.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">We
are allotted 8 dollars per person as our budget and do something as a
group.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">So all of us piled into a van and
took ventured into New Mexico to go swimming at a dam and spend time at White
Sands National Memorial.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">Swimming was
refreshing, but I really enjoyed White Sands.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">There are so many dunes of white sand that one is given the illusion of
being surrounded by hills covered in snow, but with desert plants sticking up
here and there and sand that will take days to wash out of your hair.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">There is a certain beauty to it, though, and
there is something about it that is quite serene.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">And, of course, rolling down sand dunes is
just really fun!</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Symbol; text-indent: -0.25in;">·<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal;">
</span></span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">It is here that I should probably mention that
on this outing, I went through my first border checkpoint.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">On all of the major highways outside of El
Paso, typically at least 40 miles away, there are border check points to make
sure that there are no illegal immigrants entering the United States that may
have gotten past our first defenses.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">It
was pretty easy for us, as we are all white and have the privilege of not being
suspect of any illegal border activity. Someone simply asked if we were all
U.S. citizens and, Maria, who was driving said yes, and we were on our
way.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">That’s all.</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">It’s too bad that was a lie, as one of the
other summer volunteers is actually a French citizen on the path to citizenship
(she has spent most of her life here in the States).</span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -0.25in;">This experience continues to expand my
understanding on just how expansive US immigration is.</span></li>
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This past week, I was asked to start doing some tasks
for Ruben, our head honcho and one of the original founders of the
organization, at our office at Casa T (where volunteers usually go on days off
because of the upstairs apartment – the bottom floors has two large, somewhat
cluttered offices). My task was to write
personalized (as in from me personally) thank you letters to our donors, which I
was more than happy to do. This
organization survives on donations, and it made my heart smile to know that I
was able to thank donors for their part in keeping Annunciation House
alive. It is here that I will ask if my
readers, if you feel so inclined, donate something to A-House, if you feel so
inclined. It doesn’t have to be money,
but it can be if you would like, even if it was a sum as low as $5. Everything
helps. We also accept clothes, and lots of
them! We are almost always in need of clothes and shoes for men. (Eddie, a guest from Honduras, was just
telling me while walking back to the house after soccer how he didn’t play
often because he has no tennis shoes.) If anyone really wants to attempt to
send food, go for it! And if you feel unable or uninclined to donate, that’s
okay, too. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I am halfway through my experience here, but I feel
like there is so much more I need to learn and do. This morning’s reflection was led by Maria,
and she had us refocus our thoughts on why we were here – on what our feelings
are now and how we feel moving forward.
I took that opportunity to write down what I felt I had accomplished so
far and what goals I have for the next 5 weeks.
Let me say that I feel so blessed to be where I am, and I am so happy
that I have learned to speak this new language as much as I have, that improves
and becomes more automatic every day; to have learned all that I have learned;
to have formed the relationships that I have; and to have made some amazing
memories. But I still have much farther
to go, and I will keep learning, keep practicing Spanish, keep not letting
opportunities pass me by, and keep reflecting on why I am here. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Thanks again to all of you for supporting me while I’m off trying to
understand this crazy world!<o:p></o:p></div>
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Until next time, I send you all light and love, <o:p></o:p></div>
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Casey<o:p></o:p></div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-46128920153079014292015-06-07T09:13:00.002-07:002015-06-07T09:13:41.446-07:00An Important Note<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 18.2000007629395px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4em; margin: 0.25em 0px 0px; padding: 0px 0px 4px;">
<a href="http://undocumentedblogger.blogspot.com/2007/04/aiding-abetting-harboring-encouraging.html" style="display: block; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">Aiding, Abetting, Harboring, or Encouraging Illegal Aliens is a Felony</span></a></h3>
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Section 8 USC 1324(a)(1)(A)(iv)(b)(iii):<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a"></a>(a) Criminal penalties<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1"></a>(1)<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A"></a>(A) Any person who—<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_i"></a>(i) knowing that a person is an alien, brings to or attempts to bring to the United States in any manner whatsoever such person at a place other than a designated port of entry or place other than as designated by the Commissioner, regardless of whether such alien has received prior official authorization to come to, enter, or reside in the United States and regardless of any future official action which may be taken with respect to such alien;<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_ii"></a>(ii) knowing or in reckless disregard of the fact that an alien has come to, entered, or remains in the United States in violation of law, transports, or moves or attempts to transport or move such alien within the United States by means of transportation or otherwise, in furtherance of such violation of law;<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_iii"></a>(iii) knowing or in reckless disregard of the fact that an alien has come to, entered, or remains in the United States in violation of law, conceals, harbors, or shields from detection, or attempts to conceal, harbor, or shield from detection, such alien in any place, including any building or any means of transportation;<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_iv"></a>(iv) encourages or induces an alien to come to, enter, or reside in the United States, knowing or in reckless disregard of the fact that such coming to, entry, or residence is or will be in violation of law; or<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_v"></a>(v)<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_v_I"></a>(I) engages in any conspiracy to commit any of the preceding acts, or<br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="a_1_A_v_II"></a>(II) aids or abets the commission of any of the preceding acts,<br />shall be punished as provided in subparagraph (B).<br />
<br />
Yes, this means that if I violate any of these, I could be arrested. So this is the question that I am left with after reading these words on the last day of orientation: What am I prepared to risk for something I believe in? What are <i>you </i>prepared to risk?<br />
<br />
Until next time, I send light and love,<br />
Casey</div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-83515374178402180862015-06-07T08:55:00.001-07:002015-06-07T08:55:11.497-07:00A Short Stroll (6/2/15)<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Yesterday, I had some time to kill, so I decided to
take a stroll over to Juarez, Mexico.</span><span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">
</span><span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Yes, Juarez was the murder capital of the world a few years back, about
2010-2012, but it is much safer nowadays (though clearly far from perfect).</span><span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span><span style="font-family: Aparajita, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">The violence a few years ago was due to two
warring drug cartels fighting for turf, but one has since then prevailed,
meaning there has been significantly less conflict.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Let
me begin by saying that it is ridiculously easy to get into Mexico. I took the short stroll down Paisano, took a
right on El Paso (passing all the little clothing stores, some featuring jeans
with butt padding, which I found to be quite interesting), and after a few
blocks I was at the border pass. (A walk that took about 10 minutes) It is a
bridge that goes over the ever-thirsty, dried-up Rio Grande, which has a
sidewalk for people crossing by foot. I
paid 50 cents to cross from the US side, and I walked over the bridge. When I got to the other side, there were some
Mexican border patrol that I walked right past and onto the streets of Juarez.
No one stopped me once, checked me for anything, or even asked for my passport
(which was a little disappointing because I like passport stamps). It was completely different when I returned
to El Paso, which had much more organization, lines and checks to go through,
etc. Granted, I can understand why
Mexico border patrol wouldn’t be too worried about people trying to get into
Mexico or taking anything illegal there, because anything of alarm is typically
outgoing rather than in-coming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> So, I started walking straight down the street that I
had come upon, and I could feel the difference between the city I had come from
and the city I was in instantly. There
was a different feel; it was a little bit dustier, and this place was
DEFINITELY Mexico. I walked past various
shops, which were nothing like the clothing shops that I had passed on my way
to the border. These were more like some places to get your eyes checked, some
bars, some small food/sweet places, a few currency exchanges, etc. None were tailored to tourists, except maybe
one, where I saw some things that I thought my brothers might like (such as
those thick poncho-looking things that one sees modern-day American hippies
wear). It was simply a main street that
anyone could frequent. There were also
some vendors on the street that sold things like cigarettes, gum, some small
candy, and, my favorite, chopped up fruit (including mango and pineapple!) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I
eventually came to another main street, blocked off from vehicles, and made a
left on it, where I immediately came upon a live band playing in the street. It
sounded like some kind of American rock, circa 1970s (or at least had a 70s
feel to me). I leaned against a
structure that looked like it should either hold a fountain or some potting
plants that was near the band, listened, and took in the atmosphere. Not too far, there was a man selling some nice
bags, pottery, and souvenirs on a blanket on the street. Not too far to my left, there was a beautiful
stone church (or maybe it’s a cathedral?) that was stunning and appeared to be
watching over all of the people on the square in front of it. After a few songs of listening to this live
band, I headed for the church, passing a <i>centro
comericial </i>and more stores/restaurants, walking through the small square
full of trees and plants edged by short cement walls that people were lounging
on, finding solace in the shade and enjoying the day. I came to the steps of the church, walked
through an open gate, climbed some steps, and entered. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There
were a few people in there, some just sitting, others kneeling in prayer. It
was fairly dark, being lit by some of the light that made its way through the
stain glass windows. Far off in the front of the church from a location I
couldn’t pinpoint, there was some hymns being sung, filling the silence. I took a seat at the back, and looked up at
the crucifix hanging over the alter at the head of the church. I looked up Jesus, hanging limp and dead on
the cross, and contemplated life, reflecting on why I had left the Catholic
Church (yes, of all my thoughts, this is where my mind went). While I have not identified as Christian for
years now, I still admire Jesus Christ.
But not like this. I admire the
life he led, his teachings (as in his words, which is really the only thing I
pay attention to on those rare occasions I choose to pick up a Bible). Him hanging there on a cross showed me
death. I understand that the death of
Jesus something that is critical for the Catholic faith, but I want to focus on
his life, because I think that is what Jesus was teaching: to live a good and
honorable life, to keep with your morals, and to not forget that there is something
bigger than ourselves. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">After
a few minutes lost in thought like this, I left, going out a side door and back
the way I came. I went back down the
street the way I came, bought some pesos, which I used to buy some cut-up mango
off the street, and listen to the live band a little bit more. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">This
entire little excursion was only about an hour and a half long, but it was a
good way to dip my toes into Mexico.
Some things that I didn’t mention were some occasional smells of sewer
while walking, giving me flashbacks to Bangkok; some looks, assumedly because I
was a while girl in a sea of tanned-skin Latinos, giving me flashbacks to Pune,
India; and some beggars, which I still turn my heart off to so as to not try to
sit down and talk to all of them. Overall,
though, I felt completely safe the entire time, and it was a great first
experience. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Until next time, I send
you all some light and love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita",sans-serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Casey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-16805739953938581572015-06-01T14:05:00.003-07:002015-06-01T14:05:28.171-07:00Loretto (5/29/15)
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> A few days ago, all of
us new volunteers went to see another site (other than the two main houses) that
we will be working at called Loretto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Loretto is a part of a nursing home that has been unused for years and
that has been donated for our use.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At
this site, people who have been detained and processed by immigration control
are released from Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) are dropped off to
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From what I gather, this is possible
because ICE knows who we are and we have a good relationship with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people usually coming through were
usually detained by ICE right after crossing the border not through a port of
entry or came without proper papers, or are seeking asylum.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There, we offer food, a change of clothes,
showers, and a place to sleep for the night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The people who usually come through are almost always families,
including nursing mothers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These
families usually have family that is already living in the United States that
they are trying to meet up with, and we help them get to those loved ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people that pass through typically have a
phone number for their family, and we help them call their relative and explain
to said relative how to buy a bus or plane ticket for our guest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The people that pass through Loretto may
leave that very day, or may leave after a few days, depending on travel plans. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Not
everyone will be able to stay in the United States, however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have to check in with an immigration
office in their respective cities/destinations, where their case will be
further processed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was one woman
from Guatemala that we received yesterday who was nursing a baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She travelled all the way from her home country,
assumedly by bus with her daughter, to seek a better life in the United
States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said she was poor, with a
passed husband and father, and I assume she wanted to find a better life here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had family in Florida, if I remember
correctly, and will be further processed there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She will probably ultimately end up being deported back to Guatemala,
because poverty is not a good enough reason to be granted residency, as per US
standards.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually people who are
permitted to stay are seeking asylum, wherein the people must have had
reasonable fear to leave their homes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
many cases, this is due to extortion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There
is one woman, Blanca, who recently arrived at Loretto.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blanca has two broken legs. She broke her
legs while trying to get over the border fence into the United States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was struck when I found this out; what
situation must this woman be coming from to lead her to take such a risk?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I mean she literally <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">broke her bones</i> trying to get here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not only that, but she came all the way from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Ecuador</i>, taking a month and a half to get here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was another woman that came in with her
family, and though I didn’t understand much, I understood that there were men
that had entered her home who held guns to her family’s head, including her
own. After hearing about where Blanca and some of the others came from and what
efforts they made in getting here, it makes me realize 1) how lucky I am, and
how grateful I am to have lived the safe, blessed life that I do and 2) I know
way too little about what is happening on this half of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I
do not see Loretto as a place of sadness, though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see it as a place of hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a playroom for children there, and I
went into it to play with some of the kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There were two toddler boys and a seven year old girl, and two
fathers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I spoke with one of the
fathers, Benjamin, who is 33 and is the father of the 7 year old, and I could
feel it, the hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He liked showing us
some of his knowledge of English words (which I was impressed with because
many, if not most, people who pass through here can’t speak any), and he had
this light in his eyes and a smile on his face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t know what it was like in his home in Guatemala, but now he was
so close to a new life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants to
learn English, he said. And that wish may soon come true, because he left that
same day for a relative’s home in Georgia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">To
be quite honest, I get a little emotional over the process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is something so incredible to behold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get to see people that have picked up
their lives, their families, and travelled maybe days (or weeks/months, like
Blanca) from their homes on a bus with young kids, with little to nothing with
them; I don’t even know if they had money to meet all of their food needs on
their journey. And then they get to the border of the United States.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can imagine looking at it, whether it be a
port or a fence, and seeing the last obstacle between the life I left behind
and hope for a better future, especially for my children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we get them, we get to see them go off
to that new life, even be a part of their journey, and I can only hope that
they find what they’re looking for and keep it<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Until next time, I send
all my love, <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Casey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-3706440145997076612015-06-01T14:04:00.003-07:002015-06-01T14:04:40.856-07:00A Tribute to Some People (5/27/15)
<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> I
like discovering people that I feel I can look up to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Usually my go-to’s of the people that inspire
me are Elizabeth Gilbert, Malala Yusafzai, Aung San Suu Kyi, Eve Ensler, and
others. It usually isn’t people my age, though there are some, such as many of
my friends that I find to be incredible and amazingly inspirational.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Also, my little sister Jordan who has so
much energy and life in her.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am getting a sense that some of the
year-long volunteers are going to be added to my list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, Maria is a year-long volunteer
at Casa Vides, where I am also stationed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Only a few days into orientation, and I could already sense that she is
has one of the kindest souls that I have encountered in my life thus far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She has some amazing relationships with the
people in the house; she is so good with the kids; she is very dedicated to the
house and making it be the best that it can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She has an amazing relationship with Vicki, an 82 year old woman who has
been living here for 2 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I see a
love between them that I don’t often encounter and that I want to someday
experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(I would say I love my
great-grandma in the same way, but I only see my grandma every so often when I
make the trip to Cleveland to go see her.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This love is a beauty of life that only humans can transmit, and that
each of us can cultivate within ourselves if we try to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maria also jams on her acoustic guitar and
enjoys reading, which right now is a feminist book entitled “cunt”. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">There
a few guests also named Maria, but there is one Maria in particular that I have
grown quite fond of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This Maria is in
her early sixties, has some sight issues, and is very patient with me when I am
practicing my Spanish with her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often
see her in the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">sala</i>, appearing to be
waiting patiently for one of the volunteers to come over and talk to her, and
she readily welcomes our company.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maria
observes other guests, and I can infer her opinion of them by the way she talks
about them to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, she has
watched another guest, Margarita, when she eats many times in a day, and
comments on the large size of Margarita’s body (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">està gorda!</i>).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This woman
knows more about me in many respects than the other volunteers here (For
example, she knows that I like to sleep without clothes on when I’m at my own
house.)Unfortunately, Maria is leaving on tomorrow, which is something sad for
both of us. Who would have known that it only takes so little time for someone
to make their way into your heart?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But
enough about good-byes! I want to talk about Chayito.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Chayito arrived this last week with a new
round of social security guests with her mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Chayito has Down’s syndrome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
is, and I still can’t believe this, 37 years old. She likes playing candy crush
and pool, and she’s not half bad at both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I played her in pool yesterday (which was just us and one of her friends,
Andrea (she also has special needs) trying to get whatever balls we could into
the little net thingy’s (is there a word for those?).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seeing her reminds me of my brother, Evan,
who also has Down’s syndrome.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Each
moment that I spend with her is a moment spent with my brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Similar to each moment that I spend with
Vicki, I feel like I am with my great-grandma).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Chayito and I have only known each other for about 2 days, but I truly
look forward to her being here and spending time with her for the next month.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Gustavo
is 16, and he is here with his mother and brother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is an amazing artist, wants to be a
culinary artist, and knows some English that he sometimes surprises me with.
(His brother, Julian, also surprises me with the phrases he knows, like, “don’t
touch me.”)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a little art
studio/ food joint / bar / place that sometimes has live music place two doors
down from Casa Vides.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are garage
doors with murals that lead to this place, called the Rock House, and one of
them is one that Gustavo painted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
a psychedelic looking painting, with a colorful woman with flowers in hair,
some alligators in the background, and fire. It is really good, and I admire
Gustavo for his artistic skills, especially with this one water color of
jellyfish he once showed me and the other volunteers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel like I took on him, Julian, and
Alejandro (a seven year old here) as little brothers.<a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">If
you are wondering how I am communicating with the guests here, I can tell you
that immersion does wonders for developing Spanish skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s only been about one week, and I feel so
much better with my Spanish skills (again, much of this is attributed to my
practice with guest-Maria).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is no longer
a language that I feel is outside of myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I feel like is now under my skin, in the back of my thoughts, and as
long as I continue to use and practice it, I know it will improve considerably.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I
also want to give a shout out to the rest of the volunteers at Casa Vides
(Paige, Alice, Kassy, and Cory), who all seem pretty cool and will be a great
support network to have when we hit some bumps along the road. Paige is vegan,
LGBT, likes the guitar, and is pretty cool roommate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alice is actually a citizen of France, but I
am pretty sure she has lived in the states for most of her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kassy appears to have a light, spritely, kind
soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I often see her sitting in the back
yard area, and part of me wonders where her mind drifts off to during that
time, or if she is just focusing on the music that she’s listening to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cory is the other year-long intern at the
house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s 26, 6’4”, and has some crazy
curly brown hair going on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He seems
pretty chill, for lack of a better word, but I don’t yet know too much about
him, like the others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Until next time, I send
you some light and love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Casey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-54616336974593737922015-05-31T08:29:00.002-07:002015-05-31T08:29:34.510-07:00Welcome to Annunciation House (5/29/15)<br /> I figure I should talk a little about the organization that I will be working with for the next 2 months. Annunciation House is a Catholic organization that started back in 1978, originally to serve and live in solidarity with the poor of El Paso. The founders, who had literally dropped everything in their lives to make this effort, soon discovered that the poorest of the poor were people that couldn’t even get into the two available homeless shelters in the city – immigrants, particularly ones without papers (i.e. the undocumented). Soon after this realization, A-House began housing immigrants, and the volunteers/founders that started it were living with them.<br /> This is a very shortened history of A-House, and I do not know much of the history between the initial years of after its founding and now, but the organization now consists of three locations: Annunciation House, Casa Vides, and Loretto (I will talk about this last one in another post). A-House is the main house, and is more unpredictable than Casa Vides. A-House has short-term guests, long-term guests, undocumented people, unaccompanied minors, people from various countries (including Ghana and Nigeria), and so on. Casa Vides is more long term for families waiting for processing documents and social security guests. Social security guests are women, typically pretty up there in age, who had husbands or fathers that worked in the United States as a citizen or resident and are eligible for Social Security benefits. To get these benefits, they either have to come to the US once a month to sign some papers or live in the US for one month every six months. Many choose to stay with us for one month every six months, as many come from the south of Mexico and take 20-30 hour bus rides to get here. (Mind you, many of these women are in their sixties). This makes where I am staying fairly calm, and there is a really nice, familial atmosphere about the house. <br /> So what the volunteers do is help the houses run. There is a volunteer on shift each day in each house, and that volunteer assists residents with anything they may need, they make sure that there is enough laundry soap, toilet paper, etc. stocked around the house, we sort through food donations to get rid of what is going bad, and so on. Each volunteer is assigned specific guests that we attend to, but not exclusively. We also can each have shifts at Loretto. When we are not on shift and are not officially off, it is best if we hang around and spend time with the guests, which I find to pretty great (I’ll mention some specific guests in later post ). To be honest, this job is almost exactly like being a Community Advisor (Resident Assistant) in a residence hall back at college.<br /> That is the general gist of what we do here, and I am sure there is more that I will continue learning through to the end of orientation. If you all want to look more into the organization, please visit annunciationhouse.org!<br /><br />
Until next time, I send you all some light and love,<br />CaseyCaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6264101110400870112.post-65184959156699665182015-05-28T20:35:00.003-07:002015-05-28T20:35:26.313-07:00Welcome to El Paso (5/23/15)
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> I know am still in the
United States, still in the country that I was born in, but I feel a world
apart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During my first hour upon my
arrival in El Paso, the warm climate wrapped around me like a welcomed embrace;
the introduction to the house where I will be living for the next two
months-plus felt like a beautiful day dream, and I found out that I really
really suck at Spanish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I entered
Casa Vides, one of the few houses of Annunciation House that I am posted at for
my internship, I was welcomed by some of the cutest, sweetest Mexican grandmas
that the world could culminate in its imagination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were greeting me, embracing me, and
saying things that I could not make out within my limited range of Spanish
skills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maria, a year-long intern here,
showed me around the building, and let me get settled into my new room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The walls are painted white, with the
outermost layer cracked and chipped in a way that gives it some nice personality.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are to twin beds, one for me and one
for my roommate, Paige, and a window that allows in so much natural sunlight
that I might just cry from happiness. (Did I mention that I am on the second
floor?)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right outside of the room, there
is a nice chill-out area for the interns, with the essential comfy couches that
one necessitates for loafing on after a day full of doing work and other
various activities, and some books and a tea pot to top it off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh, not to mention the door that leads to the
little balcony area.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(So Sarah Palin can
see Russia from her house? I can see Mexico from mine!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Also connected to this little lounge area are
the two bedrooms for the two year-long volunteers stationed here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>I feel like I really lucked out here because two of
the other summer interns were placed in a floor-level room without the easy
access to the things that I just mentioned above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I didn’t feel bad about that for too
long.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I took a nap, because a flight
that leaves before 6am means one sleep-deprived traveler, and then decided to
explore the area a little bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I left
the house and headed southeast, finding a busy part of the city very close by.
I hit a street, conveniently named El Paso, that ran perpendicular to what I
was on and followed it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were
clothing shops galore, and I couldn’t help but notice that every single word I
was hearing around me was in Spanish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was surrounded by a new language.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cars
passing were blasting Latin music; I could hear the street vendors indicating
sales (I assume) in a different tongue; and I started to realize, for not the
first time in my life, that I was one of the few white people around. (Funny
how things come back around.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Upon my
stroll down El Paso, I noticed the stores come to an end and a border station
not too far ahead of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mexico.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was so close I could feel it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or maybe I felt like I was already there on
this street that was flitting with Mexican music and phrases and people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">But
I can feel that I wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One day I’ll
venture to the other side of the border crossing, but not today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the moment, I was really hungry, not
having eaten a real meal since dinner the night before (it was lunch time), and
spent the rest of my exploration period wandering around for a place that wasn’t
Burger King or McDonald’s where I could have decent meal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally stumbled upon Martha’s Café, a cute
little joint that served mainly Mexican food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>(This, delicious-sounding establishment was the perfect venue for my
first meal here, though I had to ask the waiter to interpret my meal choice
because heck if I know what half the stuff was and I am a vegetarian that
doesn’t want to slip up and order a dish with meat in it.) I decided on
enchiladas (YUM!), and enjoyed my meal in beautiful solitude, with some
occasional glances at BBC World News on my iPhone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">This
is where my life has taken me for now, to the edge, or the border if you will,
of the world I was born in to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope to
detail some of my experiences here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
hope those who choose to follow my blog will enjoy some tales and musings that
I will be writing about, and will hopefully benefit from them as well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Until next we meet, I send you all my love,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif"; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Casey</span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="_GoBack"></a><span style="font-family: "Aparajita","sans-serif";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
CaseyAlexahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02190626903970369414noreply@blogger.com0