Immigrant Diaries: Mario returns to the fields

 "It's safer," he says.  "At least the workers are not targeted by 'La Migra," and I can still work."

I shake my head in understanding.  "How do you feel about the U.S. government targeting the criminals?"

Mario shrugs and looks down, "I'm glad.  I don't want this to be another Mexico.  I came here to do better.  We had a problem with a Honduran gang robbing us on Fridays outside the store where we send money each week.  If you aren't here to make it better - get out because you give us all a bad name."

I smile a little at his answer and ask about how he manages to get back and forth to work.  Mario tells me one of the guys has a driver license and the crew leader gives him gas money to transport seven guys to the fields every day. 

"The harvest will soon be over.  Will you go to Florida?"  I think about his wife and two children.

Again, Mario looks away.  "No.  I don't think so.  I'm afraid to travel that far.  My wallet was stolen and I lost everything - my birth certificate, my Elector, everything.  I have no identification.  I can't stand the thought of leaving them here to survive without me."

"Do you miss your old job?" I ask. 

 Mario winces and replies, "Yes, I miss it but it isn't worth it.  If I have to pick the crops to stay - I'll do it.  Whatever you tell me to do, I'll do it.  I want my sons to be raised in the United States.  I want them to have every opportunity to be great."

Mario worked framing houses until two weeks ago.  His crew was sent into a city where local police have permission to act as ICE.  He refused to go and lost his job.  He has no identification and worked for cash as a result.  He recently received a copy of his birth certificate from his brother in Mexico and is waiting on an old school certificate to arrive so he can apply for the Matricula and other documentation. 

He and his wife are indigenous, the grandchildren of an indian tribe, from the state of Hidalgo, Mexico.