A Dangerous Ride on Top of a Train in Mexico
07:26 Share

Support for this podcast and the following message come from Energia, where everyone can invest in the world's top renewable energy markets and make an impact. With Energia, you can invest directly in solar projects that reduce carbon emissions. More at Energia.com slash NPR. Today on State of the World, a dangerous ride on top of a train in Mexico.

You're listening to State of the World from NPR, the day's most vital international stories up close where they're happening. I'm Greg Dixon. Migrants continue to make the journey north through Mexico to the U.S. border. That is in spite of promises from the incoming Trump administration of sweeping deportations of undocumented people and little empathy for those seeking refuge in the U.S.

NPR's Mexico City correspondent, Eder Peralta, wanted to know why people are still taking this dangerous trip. So he joined some migrants making the journey on the freight trains that travel north through Mexico to find out.

The rocks are sharp. Even with boots, they cut into the bottom of your feet. But in the middle of the night at 2 in the morning, migrants hear that a cargo train has stopped up ahead. Karen Barrento wakes up her 12-year-old daughter, throws her 8-year-old over her shoulder, and walks alongside the tracks. We're still walking.

We walk without even knowing if there's a train, she says. The migrant walking just behind turns philosophical. All of this is a matter of hope and faith, he tells us,

migrants have to push forward even without a destination. This fight is never in vain, Barrento says. She left Venezuela to reunite with her mom in the U.S. She knows Trump will become president. She knows she may be in for pain and humiliation. But at least in the U.S.,

her two girls will have a chance at an education. Even if they say that the American dream doesn't exist, she says, for us, the US still represents a better life. After almost two hours of walking, we finally find a train. But this one isn't headed toward the border.

The next morning, it's the same ritual. Too tired to chase a train, sometimes migrants just yell into the air. Sometimes the young men jump on only to realize the train is going the wrong way. They call these trains "la bestia", the beast. They're so heavy when they speed past the earth heaves.

For decades, migrants have looked to this hulking piece of iron with both hope and despair. Every time a train passes, young men sprint alongside it. They jump on, turn knobs and pull levers, hoping that one of them triggers an emergency stop. And today, it works. As the train slumps, a mass of humanity runs toward it.

They sling their belongings on top of the freight cars. Parents climb with their children on their backs. One old man in a wheelchair is hoisted onto the cars by three other men. When I climb aboard, I realize I'm at least two stories high and I have to jump from rail car to rail car. Carlos Enriquez, a 58-year-old migrant from Honduras, notices my hesitation.

Don't look down, he tells me. You shouldn't be scared of it, he says. Just count. I jump. You're used to this, I tell him. No way, he says. A train already ran over my foot.

He takes off his shoe. All that's left is an ankle. I don't want to be in Mexico. Everyone discriminates against you. This country is a gauntlet. But I can't live in Honduras. The gangs take everything. The gangs burnt my house. They killed my son. And they wanted to kill me.

"No one really wants to do this," he says. He doesn't want to be up here. Once this thing starts moving, he'll spend all night thinking that the train might actually take his life this time. Sometimes the cartels kidnap migrants along the journey. Sometimes they jump on to mug them. So in a final act of preparation, in case they need a defense, young men throw rocks onto the train.

That night, the temperature dips into the 30s. The train moves at some 50 miles an hour, so the wind burns through blankets and jackets. In that dark, no one says a word. Everyone just huddles on top of the train, on top of the rebars it carries. Everyone prays for some warmth.

The sun eventually rises and it colors the whole Chihuahuan desert gold. Yalitza Campos looks out at the undulating mountains. She's 51 and she's always dreamed of visiting Mexico.

But not like this, she says. For more than a year, she's been on this journey with her 24-year-old son, Brian. She was a preschool teacher in Venezuela, making less than $30 a month. After her husband passed away, she told Brian she would travel with him. He's my only child, she says. I wanted him to have a better future.

Six months ago, they made it all the way to the U.S. border, only to get caught by Mexican immigration who sent them back to southern Mexico. God gives you strength for everything, she says. She imagined in the U.S. Brian can become an entrepreneur. There were hundreds of migrants on this train, and the dreams are big and small, driven both by survival and ambition.

Brian is chasing a simple dream. His son turned four back in Venezuela, but he didn't have any money to buy him a present. In the U.S., he'll work, he'll care for his mom, and his son will have a birthday present. I will not rest until I make it through the border, he says.

Over the next week, Ryan and his mom do cross the border to El Paso. They turn themselves in to U.S. authorities to seek asylum, but they are returned to Mexico and then flown all the way back to the border with Guatemala. A day later, they start walking north once again. Ed Apalta, NPR News, on the bestia in the Chihuahuan Desert of Mexico. That's the state of the world from NPR. Thank you for listening.

This message comes from Schwab. At Schwab, how you invest is your choice, not theirs. That's why when it comes to managing your wealth, Schwab gives you more choices. You can invest and trade on your own. Plus, get advice and more comprehensive wealth solutions to help meet your unique needs. With award-winning service, low costs, and transparent advice, you can manage your wealth your way at Schwab. Visit schwab.com to learn more.

This message comes from Monday.com. Work management platforms. Red tape, endless adoption time, IT bottlenecks. And after all that, nobody really uses them. But what if you didn't hate your work platform? What if you actually loved it? Monday.com work management platform is different. You can make any changes you want and adapt it to your needs in an instant. No admin middlemen. That's why people actually love using it.

Monday.com, the first work platform you'll love to use.