by Katia López-Hodoyán
From a small rugged town in the Mexican state of Veracruz, a group of women, young and old, are shedding light on a different, often overlooked side of immigration. They are called ‘Las Patronas,’ which makes reference to the name of the town they live in. Every day, they help hundreds of complete strangers who pass by on a freight train, known as ‘La Bestia’ or ‘The Beast.’ They don’t know these people’s names, age or nationality. The only thing they know is that the Central American migrants are passing through Mexico and heading north, hoping to make it to the U.S. Their interaction lasts only a few seconds: They lock eyes. The migrants stretch out their arms from the moving train and Las Patronas, almost instinctively, start tossing bottles of water and bags filled with rice, beans and tortillas. There’s no conversation, but the entire exchange speaks volumes.
A film titled “All of Me,” delves into the lives of these women, showing how despite being uneducated, poor and marginalized, they are also strong, devoted and inspiring.
The University of San Diego’s Trans-Border Institute invited the film’s producer and one of the Patronas on campus, for a screening of the film and lecture on February 25th.
“It started off as something small,” says Mariela Najero Romero, one of the roughly 14 Patronas who make up the group. “It really came out of nowhere, but now it has become something big.”
It was back in 1995, when one of the founders, Norma Romero Vasquez, says migrants walking through the railway tracks asked her for food. She helped and eventually reached out to her family and neighbors, young and old, to chip in. Years passed, and as the number of migrants grew, so did the contributions of Las Patronas. Despite their own economic hardships, the group continues to prepare warm meals for the migrants day in and day out. They cook for hours and wait patiently for the train to pass, while still wearing an apron. Twenty one years later, Las Patronas have won awards and garnered international attention for their voluntary work. They do everything for free. Their only compensation is knowing they are helping those in need.
“I understand there are good and bad people on that train,” says Romero as she speaks at USD. “But it’s not my place to judge them. That’s up to God.”
While governments and politicians highlight all the problems with the immigration system, Las Patronas focus on the basics. Their mission is not about politics or even diplomacy. On the contrary, they simply see hungry people and feed them. When migrants fall off the train and can’t manage to get back on, Las Patronas offer them a place to stay, until they try their luck again and head north. When migrants get injured, they find medical assistance and care for them as best they can.
But there have been doubts along the way. There came a point when Las Patronas didn’t know if helping these migrants, mostly from El Salvador and Honduras, was legal in Mexico. They wanted to help, but they didn’t want to get in trouble doing so.
“We were afraid,” says Romero. “We didn’t know what was legal and what wasn’t. There were groups who were trying to intimidate us. We got informed. Turns out, we do have the right to help them.”
The issue of abuse has also been an issue. Mexico has a reputation for not always being welcoming to Central American migrants, even if their intention is to simply pass through the country. Over the last 21 years, Las Patronas have witnessed cases where immigration officials have abused their authority by targeting Central American migrants. It can range from insults to stealing money and even violence.
“When we started asking questions,” explains Romero, “We learned that the local police does have the power to conduct raids and detain the migrants. But what they cannot do, is abuse their power.”
So as the train continues to pass through the town, Las Patronas continue to feed those on board. The train, The Beast as it’s called, has turned into a symbol of sorts. It’s moving forward, but it also leaves people behind. It can lead migrants to a better life, but it can also kill them. Ironically, the film shows how some of the women who help these migrants heading north, also have their own hopes of maybe one day making the same journey to the U.S.
The film shows a young Patrona crying, as she explains that there are virtually no opportunities or jobs in her town. At least, up north, she cries, she and her kids can have a better future.
Money is tight, but they’ve never stopped giving out meals. A few non-profits and Mexican universities have chipped in with donations so the group can continue to feed passing migrants. Over the years they’ve fed thousands of perfect strangers. Every now and then, they get a phone call from some of the migrants who made it successfully to the U.S. They just call to say ‘thank you.’