First off, thanks for letting me whine yesterday. I'm feeling happier about my situation today. I know we'll get through this. I may still entertain the idea of going back to work, but we'll see. I need to do some research (would all my money go toward day-care costs? Research like that), and then, if I decide to teach again, I need to get re-certified here in Idaho, which will take much time and paperwork. And then it would take me a long time to find a job. So nothing immediate will happen to alleviate our stress, but we'll see.
I had a friend in my book club in San Diego that wanted us to read this book, Enrique's Journey, but we never got around to it. I jotted the title down, though, and, when I finished the Twilight series, I needed something very non-fiction. Very down-to-earth. And this fit the bill nicely. It's nice to find a non-fiction book that is actually engaging to read. I've read a lot of insipid non-fiction books, and I hesitate to read them, but this one was fantastic.
Sonia Nazario published this book in 2006 and won the Pulitzer Prize for it. She follows Enrique, a Honduran, as he migrates north to the United States. Fifty thousand of the 200,000 people who illegally immigrate to the United States every year are children traveling alone. All of these children have single mothers who couldn't afford to feed them in their home countries. These women had all kinds of tricks to help stave of hunger - they had their kids drink sugar water to fill their tummies. They told their children to lie on their stomachs at night to help fight hunger pains and stomach growling. A lot of these single women are fed up with their situation, so they illegally immigrate to the United States. Their children are usually divided up among family members. Then these women get jobs up here and send as much money home as they can, hoping to save up enough to smuggle their children north to join them. It takes most women ten years to save enough money to smuggle one child north.
The children who are left behind become angry, join gangs, and sniff glue. And they miss their mothers horribly. So many of them decide to go to the United States to join their mothers. And they get to the United States mainly by train. They ride on the tops of these train cars. At each train stop, they have to get off and hide in the shrubbery from three kinds of people: police, migration officials, and bandits. All three groups beat the children and rob them. One in four of the young girls who ride the trains get raped. And then the police and the migration officials send the migrants back to Central America via bus. Most of these children try over and over again to get through Mexico, making the trip 8 or 9 times. Half of them - half of them! - lose their footing on the train and get sucked under, losing limbs or dying.
How do they eat? They don't. If they are lucky enough to have evaded bandits, police, or la migra, they beg door-to-door, and most Mexicans look down on Central Americans and refuse to help them. There is one area, though, about halfway through the journey, where these sweet, sweet, very poor people run out and throw packages into the arms of the migrant children - packages of food, clothes, water, etc.
So this story is about one kid in particular, Enrique, who journeys north to join his mother, Lourdes, in North Carolina. He successfully makes it through, but when he rejoins his mother, things aren't great. They fight a lot, and he has a lot of pent-up resentment toward her. He ends up getting addicted to drugs again. He eventually cleans up, then saves up to pay for his girlfriend to come north. His girlfriend leaves behind their daughter, just like Lourdes left behind her son, Enrique.
This book is really interesting, because its main premise is: is it better to stay at home with your kids, and nurture them, yet having them starve, or is it better to go north, pay for them to go to school and have clothes and food, yet having the kids become so upset and hurt and resentful that they almost always turn to drugs and gangs? It's a compelling question.
Over the last few weeks of pity-partying in my mind, I keep trying to remember Enrique. When I think my life super-sucks, I try to think of how much worse Enrique's life has sucked, and all of these other children. I have it pretty freakin' good. Yes, we eat Ramen, but at least we eat. I don't have to give my children sugar water. There is always someone worse off than me.
I got a forward once that talked about how good Americans have it. It was all, "If you have change in your pocket or wallet, you're richer than 50% of the world." Something like that. We really are very blessed to be born where we are, and to have what we have.
ReplyDeleteThings will get better for you, and you have such a good perspective on your trials.
That sounds like a good book. I should go check it out, I just finished Twilight again and need something different to read. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThanks for the good post. Every time things are hard you think well people have it way worse. Sometimes thinking alone won't take away the frustration and self pity. That's usually when I try to find someone to serve, cuz for me selflessness is the remedy to selfishness. Of course sometimes just a call to a friend or talking to someone who needs company is all I can accomplish, usually it is enough to pull me up and out!
ReplyDeleteHey Kar - sounds like things are really hard right now. I keep hearing people say at church "We can do hard." It's true, we can. We might not think we can but God doesn't send anything our way that we can't handle. One of my favorite scriptures is Psalm 23 and it happened to be quoted last night at a funeral I attended. It's the basis for the hymn "The Lord is My Shepherd", my favorite one. Maybe read the words to that hymn, it certainly helps me when times are hard. Love ya!
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