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The Other Side of Emigrating to the United States

#journalism Newspaper article. Topic: Emigration of Venezuelans. Author: Darimel Urdaneta (MeredithSkywalker) The other side of immigrating to the United States There are many reasons why a Venezuelan decides to emigrate, but they all conclude that in Venezuela there is no future or quality of life, that is why many decide to leave to different parts of Latin America, but in recent months there has been a boom of migrating to the land of opportunities such as the United States of America. Learn the story of Irma, an 80-year-old lady who, with the help of another Venezuelan, managed to cross the river de grande from Mexico to the United States. Irma is a native of Maracaibo Venezuela, and at 80 years old she managed to cross the border with the United States. Irma had fainted while trying to cross the river and another Venezuelan helped her cross and arrived safely to the mainland. The humanitarian crisis that Venezuela is going through has forced Venezuelans to escape from the need that is currently experiencing in Venezuela. Some states in the country suffer from electrical fluctuations, such as total loss of electricity by hours or even days. There are no medicines, medical care is precarious. No public transport, no food on the shelves and where a Venezuelan can get food is at very high prices, since the minimum wage is $3 per month, and for a family of 4 people you need $350 for the basic food basket for one month. And besides all this is insecurity, there are guerrillas, criminal gangs and the most feared is the police themselves who harms Venezuelans, many Venezuelans have been persecuted politicians and that is why they flee Venezuela. At the OAS, David Smolansky warned that estimates the number of Venezuelans abroad will reach 7 million and recalled that the Venezuelan is leaving the country due to the crisis and the world “must welcome us”. According to France 24, Venezuelan citizens pay up to 12,000 dollars to coyotes to cross from Mexico to the US illegally. However, they highlight that the arrival of undocumented immigrants on US soil has broken records, and according to the Customs and Border Protection Office (CBP), in April they had recorded the highest figures in the last 20 years: more than 178,000 people arrived irregularly, in many cases putting their lives at risk. Just as there are stories with happy endings like that of Mrs. Irma, there are heartbreaking stories, as is the case of Ana N (her name is protected) a Venezuelan woman who crossed with her two children and her husband, they had paid a coyote to cross them along the river and the current was high by that date. In view of the fact that Ana's youngest son was crying, a crying coyote decided to throw the baby into the river, the people who witnessed this atrocious act could not do anything, as a coyote is part of Mexican cartels, however the father of the creature threw himself into the river to try to save his son but his effort was in vain since the baby had died. The question of emigrating is not only crossing the river, because when you cross into cells inside the United States shelter, you can spend days there without being able to communicate with your relatives, how can you also not bathe until a week passes. That's what Juan N told us (his name is protected), he told us about his journey from Maracaibo to the United States. “One morning they went to pick me up in Monterrey, the driver who was going to take me to Ciudad Acuña, passed with a caravan like 10 cars. From Monterrey to Ciudad Acuña they were about 6 hours. Among the drivers were communicating about the alcabala, and there are police officers who behaved hateful and the drivers were paying them. On a mandatory basis we all had to have a role where we were sealed in migration with permission to be in Mexico for 180 days. We arrived at Ciudad Acuña at about 6 in the afternoon, they left us in a house that had a large patio, and there they all agreed to order food while we were waiting there. The one who went to buy the food arrived at about 10 o'clock in the evening with pizza and other food there, so everyone ate and we waited for instructions. At 2 in the morning they woke us all up because it was time to cross to the United States. Everything looked like a movie, we went jogging and we got to a mountain, we had to cross 3 barbed fences, and it was a shame with the children, the older people, struggling with those wires to be able to cross, but among all of us we helped. Then we approached the river and that river reached me through my chest, I measure 1.78. the current was tight, but we all managed to cross. Then when we crossed we had to climb a steep one and there was mud and people were slipping but we still crossed it. After crossing we had to change our clothes for dry clothes, because if it was wet they wouldn't let you through. Then the patrol arrived and they gave us good morning and then they asked us why we passed so early, and they recommended that it was best to happen after 6 in the morning which is when the river is low, but they also welcomed us to the United States. We were 49 people, and he called more patrols because in one of us we didn't all get in. Then they took us to the river yield and checked everything, and if you got something wet they'd dumped it at you. In the review they tell how much money you arrive in cash, keep it in an envelope along with your passport and phone. From there you wait for processing, taking pictures and fingerprints. And you have to wait, a lot of people moved her to other places and no idea where they were taking them. And those who process there they open a file and they must wait for a transfer and tell you that you are on the list for the transfer. I spent 8 days in that stay, there are people who only had 3 days there as were people who had a month. The hardest thing is the wait, because you sleep on the floor, on a foami that is on the floor, your pillow was your shoes, at breakfast you ate a burrito, at lunch rice with beans, meat and at dinner you eat another burrito. You don't have a watch, you have to ask the officers about the time, the men were outdoors along with 100 mates or even more, and the women if they were inside but were less in group, they were like 20 or 30 women. Women are the same, they don't see the light of day either, only they lasted less time in the shelter. They only had officers sitting in their offices working in front of them. In my experience I could only bathe twice. They told me soap, shampoo, toothpaste, deodorant, new socks and new underwear in the two bathrooms I had. Being there is quite difficult because of the uncertainty but it's worth it, as the lifestyle you live in the United States is not achieved in another country, besides security.” That was the experience of one of the interviewees and from what you can see it is crude, but it is the reality that many Venezuelans and other immigrants of other nationalities come to live while on the journey and in the shelter. However, Venezuelans who arrive in the United States illegally seeking asylum, in addition to risking their lives, are exposed to being deported again to Venezuela, due to the condition in which they arrive, while others must hire lawyers while waiting in detention centers. Sources: NoticieroDigital.com Elpitazo.com Laprensadelara.com XXX

Requiem: Chapter 5

- Just in time Stephen March could save himself from a certain death with a lateral leap. The bright red glider drilled into the window of ' Redstone & Son ', a branch of a Western electronics company that had gained a foothold in the New World. One of the first groups to have won this authorization after the Second Cold War. The reinforced windows of the electronics store were no match for the kinetic forces of the runaway vehicle. The window glass splits into countless small pieces. At the last moment, Stephen had seen the murder vehicle rushing at him in the light of the window window. His rapid reaction, an instinctive reflex at the moment itself - was happiness or perhaps the result of his daily workout - had given him that small chance and saved his life. Because most of the pieces of glass had been broken up by the movement of the glider inside the shop space, March had not suffered any serious cuts. His pants and vest were torn and smeared by the fall, and his left leg was a little worse planed by the unsoft contact with the concrete, but the rest was not easy.. While he was still recovering from the first shock, he heard above the panicked screams of the pedestrians who witnessed the event, from the store a metallic scraping. To his great surprise, he saw the red carlide moving out of the storefront and turning to him. Stephen frowned amazed the eyebrows. Apparently, that killing machine was targeting him. This wasn't a coincidence, not an ordinary accident.. His hunch shouted at him a single word: “Run!’. He took the first street on the right at a delirious pace, almost slipping he could just avoid a pedestrian who was angry behind him. A second later he heard a bons accompanied by a creepy scraping sound. Stephen looked backwards and saw the unfortunate passerby crushed by the chasing autobot slipping along the wall in a blood-red pattern. The fear knocked him in the throat, the adrenaline made him run even faster. He thought the Metro, I should get it.. There, the runaway computer car wouldn't be able to follow him. He jumped up the stairs with two steps at the same time that would lead him to the main street via a few inland roads and also to the entrance of the underground train network. Whenever he reached the end of one of those roads, he heard the murderous vehicle approaching and blowing his neck like a hot breath. He walked even faster, and it seemed like he was given wings because of the fear that drove him. Eventually he came into the street where the entrance to the Metro was. He saw it as a redeeming mouth that would swallow it up. Another ten meters. With his last breath he squeezed out one last sprint. With a tiger jump, he plunged forward down the stairs and hurtfully rolled to the bottom of the entrance, where he hoped to be safe from the murderous autobot. Stephen felt vomited. It was a miracle, but apparently he didn't break anything at first sight, even though he was in pain everywhere. He crawled stumbling and leaning against a pillar again upright. The red monster remained hovering in front of the entrance to the Metro for a while and then disappeared out of sight.. People looked at him with fear, and many walked around him in a wide bow.. In the light of a window of a train he saw the reason. He just looked like a wreck. In the toilet of the underground, he tried to decent his clothes some and take up the worst damage. All in all, it turned out to be too easy. All his muscles were stiff due to the intense effort but nothing felt broken to. He bled from a number of small wounds to the elbows and hands. The abrasions on his leg did not look really life-threatening, although it had to be taken care of professionally. Stephen should see a doctor as soon as possible for a skilled patch. Now he no longer looked like a diplomat Stephen March, but more like a clochard who had walked into the wall several times in his alcoholic haze... or perhaps fell down the stairs of the Metro. His first idea was to tell the police everything and file a complaint against strangers. Only then did he realize that he had not seen a license plate number on his murderous stalker. In the New World all gliders or autobots were numbered on the bottom, the doors and the top of the vehicles. So one could immediately see or find out which city or area they came from. In addition, the windows were darkened so that he could not disclose the face of the driver or occupants. weird! He would wait a while to visit the police. His sixth sense told him that he might do more harm than good with that.. After an hour on the emergency service of the nearest hospital, he was given the necessary iodine tincture, special adhesive plasters containing an antibiotic and gauze dressing - and what was especially important - a strong painkiller. His leg was not broken, but still hit worse than he had previously suspected. Stephen told the doctor on duty that he had fallen from the stairs of the subway entrance due to a misstep and sustained those injuries. Even if that was only half the truth, it wasn't a lie. It sounded really convincing how Stephen brought it, but this explanation also avoided any annoying questions from the doctor on duty or a mandatory visit to the law services. Stephen March didn't get high on the Security Service right now, especially after the unsolved murder of his half-sister Suzy. The idea of walking a block and a little more at Redstone & Son to inquire, he also rejected. Maybe any witnesses recognized him while the police were still there investigating the case. What intrigued him most of all was the reason behind this unexpected attack on his person. Why was he attacked, hunted like a wild animal, eventually he was also nearly killed? What was the point, what was behind this, was this connected to Suzy's murder?? All the questions haunted in his head. He felt hunted and anxious and looked around as he sought his way back. When he was back at his apartment, he first poured himself a good whiskey.. He knew that it was not wise to mix medicines and alcohol, but this was an exception to the rule. His hand was still shaking slightly when the golden moisture was poured into the crystal glass. He took a big sip of Chivas Regal. Stephen felt the fluid that immediately warmed him a way to his stomach, which now settled some. Stephen let the last hours before his mind's eye pass. After the identification with Suzy's personal items he had received from Mr. Huang, he went for a walk in the shopping streets of Sanctuary. Getting his feelings back under control after the psychological thump he got in the morgue. Then suddenly the red homicide vehicle that showed up at him? Stephen put the rest of his whiskey glass aside and poured out the contents of the canary yellow plastic bag with his sister's personal belongings, whom he miraculously could have saved during all those struggles of the last few hours, onto the table. There were the usual things that are usually found in the possessions of a woman. First of all, her torn and bloody garments, which he laid apart with due respect and a great piece of dismay. Another example of the lack of sympathy from the New World police forces. In the pocket there was also a torn handbag, a broken lip gloss, a key ring, a hairbrush that had also suffered under the trap, a crushed pack of started paper wipes and a wallet with some banknotes in it, some pictures, but all her credit cards were missing or withheld by the Security Service. Scattered, he was messing around in all the boxes of her wallet when he found between two pictures in a note pleated in two. March immediately recognized Suzy Chang's beautiful female handwriting. There was only one word on it and a number: “Passage 6.”. It didn't tell him anything. That couldn't be the note Captain Vastai was talking about. The conscious note that referred to him? The key ring of four keys he weighed equally predominantly in his palm. He immediately recognized the blue rectangles key of an autobot. Number SW280387. Nothing was referring to that Passage 6. One of the other three keys must have been from Suzy's apartment since the name was printed in the key bar of the residence where she was staying: ' Pinewood House Asurai ’. A number was printed on the tip of the bar: 837. As he already knew, this referred to the eighth floor apartment 37. The other two were still a mystery to him. A mystery that he would certainly try to solve. He wouldn't ask the police what those keys were for.. By the way, if they had been of some interest, he probably wouldn't have gotten it.. Maybe today he took a walk to Pinewood House Asurai. Stephen changed and took the elevator to the underground garage with a painful grimace on his face in his own autobot and entered the address of the residence. The speech recognition program looked this up in its internal memory, started the almost silent drive system and the vehicle automatically slipped into the traffic jam of the pre-programmed route. Stephen leaned weary backwards in the seat and waited with his eyes closed for him to reach his destination.. copyright Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere Requiem: Chapter 4 or 6 - Requiem: Chapter 4 - Requiem: Chapter 6 -