Today, we saw the split city of Nogales. In a word, it's bizarre. Life is continuing like it does in a normal city, yet a massive blockade of steel and cement has created a rift between its north and south. I wondered how anyone could function here. Boarder Patrol suspiciously appears if you stay in one spot for too long. Cameras, like omniscient eyes, overlook every corner. Stores sell what reflects the population; cheap clothes, cheap backpacks, cheap sunglasses, quality firearms. No one is at ease, and those that are proudly display a badge on their breast.
I saw a boy, maybe days younger than me, in the back of a Boarder Patrol car. He was alone. He was frightened.
We walked past melted candles that together formed a crude shrine. Even the shrine was split by the Great Wall. It commemorated Jose Antonio Elena Rodriguez. He was shot by the American Boarder Control. He was shot in Mexico. The claim was that he was throwing rocks at the agents. The fence is eighteen feet high, and the gaps between slats is a few inches. The tape of the death still has not been released.
While touring the boarder patrol station, we passed a sign commemorating the death of Officer Terry. The claim is that he was on horseback when he was "rocked" (stoned) to death by immigrants in transit. He is looked upon as an American hero, dying for protecting his country.
Nobody is happy. Blood is trickling down the arms of both those who built the wall and those who aim to cut it down.
I agree, Ben. Nobody is happy. Even the Border Patrol agents and the ranchers and the Public Defender will tell you - we need change in some way, but nobody can say how.
ReplyDeleteBen--You are learning an important lesson: very little in life is black and white. There are so many shades of gray and the more knowledge we have the more difficult it is to see from only one perspective.
ReplyDeleteBFred