Day 27: A Lucky Moon

An old Guatemalan man I talked to today swore that he made it across the border because of the luck of the moon cycle. 

"Hardly anyone makes it over," he told me. "For every twenty people that try, one gets lucky, and I was one of the lucky few."

He is deeply spiritual, and said that if God wills you a safe passage, you'll likely make it. If God is unwilling, you'll have no chance. 

"Thanks to God I am here. I never imagined I'd make it," he said. 

The moon was full Friday night when he crossed. He waited on the Mexican side of the wall, watching ICE officers creep by. After one patrol car went by, he waited for two more to pass, and then waited another thirty minutes to be sure they were gone. 

He said that the officers usually point their lights into the bushes, trying to catch any sign of movement. They're sneaky and they have the uncanny ability to catch most—if not all—attempts at bolting. 

Because there was so much natural moonlight, however, the man was able to see along the wall in either direction. After waiting and seeing no signs of patrol officers, he made a run for it and started to climb. He fell from more than 20 feet up the wall (on the US side), landing on his side. 

Though he was in deep pain, he stood up and immediately started sprinting. He half-walked, half-sprinted for six hours, trying to avoid the sensors that ICE officers strategically place throughout the desert. If someone touches a sensor, it sets off a series of alarms and a string of officers come to capture and deport the migrants. 

My some miracle, he made it to a small town in New Mexico. He sat on the side of the road—desperate, hurting, and alone. 

A passerby stopped to give him a bottle of water and to ask if he was okay. 

"That's when I really knew God was on my side," he said. 

Who knows what prompted this generous soul to stop, but he took pity on the old and injured Guatemalan, driving him to a hospital and then to Annunciation House. 

After the injured man heals a bit, he hopes to stay with a friend in Austin, but he doesn't know if he'll be able to make it through the checkpoints. His best option is to take a train, but even that is risky with no documents. 

For now, he's hobbling around the dorm with a twinkle in his eye. He's wearing a Beatles T-shirt he proudly picked out from our clothes donation room and getting up every twenty minutes or so to stretch his sore leg and lower back. 

And, he's probably still giving thanks to the moon. 

(For some reason, I keep being drawn back to bird imagery. I think it's the idea of flight and of opportunity.)