Heat, exhaustion, illness: A day with the migrant caravan
PIJIJIAPAN, Mexico — On the 15th day of their journey, Joel Eduardo Espinar and his family were hurting. And they still had a country to traverse before they got to the United States.
A little more than two weeks before, they had fled Honduras and joined the migrant caravan of Central Americans snaking toward the border. Now, they assembled in the 3 a.m. darkness by a southern Mexico highway.
Jason, 11 years old, complained of stomach pains as he lay on the highway's shoulder. His 12-year-old sister Tifany Diana sat beside him, her head between her knees. The baby, Eduardo, was in his stroller, burning with fever, his eyes watery and his nose running. Espinar's wife, Yamilet Hernandez, could not shake a nagging cough and sore throat.
The Honduran farmer and his wife watched dozens of fellow travelers scramble to board trucks that stopped to help their caravan. Hundreds of others had already left on foot, starting out at 2 a.m. to get an early start on what would be the most ambitious single-day trek since they crossed into Mexico, setting their sights for reaching Arriaga, about 62 miles up the coast.
So Espinar had to decide what to do quickly, or he and his family would find themselves alone, trying to navigate their way to America.
To get a ride, the five would have to race to the trucks and muscle aboard with their two strollers — one for 2-year-old Eduardo, the other carrying three blankets and three small backpacks containing all their belongings.
The alternative seemed less difficult. Their feet were still holding up despite two weeks of walking in plastic sandals. Miraculously not one had a blister after traveling mostly on foot more than 95 miles since crossing the Mexican border.
What's 62 miles more, Espinar thought, pushing his stroller forward. Get up, he told his kids.
'The only way to get ahead is to make sacrifices,' he said.
President Donald Trump has ordered thousands of troops to the border to meet the caravan and prevent the arrival of 'Many Gang Members and some very bad people' he says it includes. They're more likely to encounter people like Espinar and his family — desperate, fearful, and stumbling in plastic shoes toward what they hope will be a new life. This is the story of that family, and one day in the caravan, and why they keep going.
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They had already sacrificed so much. Yamilet's elder daughters, ages 16 and 18, had refused to join them. They were left with Espinar's parents.
Espinar broke down crying when he hugged his mother goodbye. Three years before, he had confronted his alcoholism with her help; now he was leaving her behind.
She assured him he was doing the right thing. His homeland could not provide a future.
The family lived in La Conce in Olancho, one of the most violent areas in one of Latin America's most violent countries — for more than two decades, a drug-trafficking hub with warring gangs. Four of Espinar's friends died from stabbings, and his wife was robbed twice at knifepoint on her way home from the stand where she sold rosquillas, a traditional Honduran snack made of cornmeal and cheese.
In every way, it grew harder and harder to survive there. Espinar, 27, grew up in La Conce, leaving the fifth grade to work with his father cultivating watermelons bound for the U.S. But in the past two years, prices had shot up and it was becoming impossible to raise his children on his 1,500 Honduran Lempira ($62) weekly salary.
Tifany Diana had to drop out of school for lack of tuition. Jason never went. His wife sold their television to buy food.
Yamilet, 37, inquired about getting a U.S. visa from a friend who got one and realized she would not qualify. They owned no land, had no bank account and no stable work.
Then the couple's neighbor and close friend was shot by a stray bullet while sleeping next to her 4-year-old son. Three days later, a Honduran TV news station reported that a caravan for migrants was heading to the U.S. The report said hundreds had joined and they would be arriving at Santa Rosa de Coapan.
Espinar felt fate was calling. His brother had paid a smuggler $6,500 to get to the U.S. border eight months ago and he knew he would never have that much money. Nor could he risk taking them alone.
The brother, Byron, now in Florida, urged him to take the rare opportunity.
Within hours of hearing the news, Espinar bought five bus tickets to Santa Rosa de Coapan. Yamilet packed one change of clothes for each family member. Abruptly, Eduardo would have to start drinking from a cup; there was no room to carry bottles and formula.
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The family arrived at Santa Rosa de Coapan at 3 a.m. They walked seven hours with the caravan to the Guatemalan border with Mexico, and slept on the international bridge.
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