Category: Immigration

Despite the growing tension over immigrationand drugs, normal life goes on between the U.S.and Mexico. People continue to cross the bridge connecting del Rio on the U.S. side with Acuña on the Mexican. One of those is Bob Kapoor who, like other citizens in del Rio, wants to take advantage of the lower prices in Mexico for basic services like medical needs. He finds Mexican doctors as qualified as American while charging much less. The same goes for a vet for his dog.

But there is another reason for his near daily border crossing. He and his wife Jyoti are financing an orphanage in Acuña for some twenty-five abandoned children ranging in age from two to twenty-one. They were found on the street where children tend to play all day and then go home. But some stay. The street with its attendant dangers is their home.

The orphanage is a welcome change. “We’re abig family,” says Bob. Whatever the age differences, the company of children make upfor the lack of parents. In most cases the mothers, usually on drugs, have given them up and prefer not to see them again. Occasionally, a grandmother will appear and ask for a child who may or may not want to leave the orphanage and the close friends he or she has made.

The scene outside is not reassuring. Like other border towns Acuña is part of a drug cartel network that extends along the 2000 mile U.S. border. Nobody does anything that upsets a cartel without paying a substantial price. So the orphanage provides protection against a possibly fatal mishap.

Acuña, says Bob, is in the hands of a “pretend cartel;” that is, one that’s aspiring to be the real thing in a smaller town that tends to be ignored by the larger criminals. That doesn’t mean the “pretends” are any less methodical in theirtrafficking. One practice is to give a baby to one or two people trying to cross the border. With that in hand they are sure to be accepted in the U.S. Once they are, they give the baby back to a cartel member who returns it to Acuña for yet another trip until the baby expires and thus is no longer useful. Prospective temporary parents can be housed in one of Acuña’s run downhotels not too far from the orphanage.

Occasionally, del Rio experiences a surge of migrants instead of the usual trickle. Thousands of Haitians piled up under the border bridge in great distress until they were sent to various parts of the U.S or stayed to work in Acuña. The Kapoors await the next expected surge in their modest but popular hotel in the busy heart of del Rio. Called the “Whispering Palms,” it’s famed for a whistling parrot named Larry with the lifespan of a healthy human who favors guests he likes with a gentle peck. It’s a comforting sight and sound in the tumult of change.

For scenery it’s hard to beat a twelve mile stretch of road along the Rio Grande outside the Texas border town del Rio. There’s one problem. It’s a favorite crossing point for illegal immigrants trying to reach the U.S. They usually succeed but not always. The climb down to the river isn’t easy, and the current can be swift. There’s an occasional drowning. The National Guard greet most of the crossers and detain them for the Border Patrol.

The area is a special project of Texas Governor Greg Abbott to show he is serious about border control. His Abbott fence is now completed along the route. It’s not a thirty-foot-high Trump affair, only ten feet with razor wire on top. Migrants have cut holes in it with shears and are sometimes able to scale it. But Sergeant Alejandro Moy says it has helped his competent National Guard team to apprehend those crossing.

Between the fence and the migrants are the homeowners who pay a price in insecurity for their splendid setting on the river. They can expect daily visits from weary, bedraggled migrants wondering where to go next. Barking dogs alert them to the newcomers who may just be passing through or ask for some food.

Sometimes they want more. Diane Schroeder, a watchful resident, says she once had to save a horse from a migrant intent on transportation. Nelson Puo, a retired Border Patrol officer, caught a couple of migrants trying to make off with his refrigerator. He handed them over to the Border Patrol. He says every day he has to be on the look-out. It’s steady work, though good fishing is a compensation.

In effect, like it or not, the del Rio homeowners are a front-line defense against this southern invasion. Their equivalent are the large ranchers on the Arizona border whose property is violated at night by cartel groups clad in black and well-armed. But the ranchers have the advantage of distance. The interlopers steer clear of the ranch house to avoid a shootout. There’s no distance between the Rio Homeowners and their invaders who are closer than neighbors and not as well intentioned. Like the National Guard the residents have guns but cannot fire them unless fired on.

Still, they cope. Doughty Diane Schroeder is not put off by a glimpse of an armed black clad cartel boss giving orders on the opposite riverbank. Her husband, a truck driver, heard a noise outside one night with the dogs barking. When he opened the door with his gun, two trespassers flung themselves on the ground, pleading, “Don’t shoot!” He didn’t, to be sure, and learned that they were not trying to escape from Mexico but to return to it. Apparently, they had made a drug delivery and were going back to make another. Instead, they were turned over to the Border Patrol.

Despite occasional shots from across the river and a lot of unwelcome visitors, the Rio residents seem determined to stay where they are. “This is America,” says Nelson Puo. “Why would I have to move out?” It’s a testament to the Texans that their property values have gone up from $7000 a lot to $10,000. If the migrants continue to come, so may the Texans. It’s a standoff.