Just a few weeks ago they were electricians in Miami. Or department managers at a multinational corporation. They were still fishing, just like they had for the last 30 years. They drove trucks. They owned an air conditioning company. They were collecting retirement benefits after a lifetime of work. And now? Now they look for a gap between the arcades, hang wet clothes to dry in a sink, open and close the doors of an Oxxo convenience store hoping for a few coins, celebrate the blankets that a kind neighbor gave them so they don’t have to sleep directly on the hard concrete floor, treasure worn papers, documents in the wrong language, and rely on promised money to buy a cell phone so they can call their families, who remained thousands of miles away, on the other side of the border.

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