With hopes for asylum in U.S. dashed, migrants in Tijuana ponder next moves

Tijuana – On March 1, when a Russian man arrived at the U.S.-Mexico border, he knew it was too late. Still, he insists on hope that he can enter the United States for asylum even under President Trump’s tenure.

Slavik, a 37-year-old engineer, said he fled Russia after being beaten by security forces for supporting the other party. He said he had hoped to meet with our immigration officials to apply for asylum and had friends willing to sponsor him.

Instead, he lived in Tijuana for a few weeks as he was about what to do next.

“I just tried to follow the rules and wait,” Slavik said, who was determined by his nickname for fear of retribution. “Now there is nothing else. All immigration will be illegal.”

Thousands of immigrants in Tijuana, Slavik, etc. tried to apply for appointments with immigration officials through Biden’s management phone, but Trump Cancel the programactually preventing the opportunity to enter asylum. Since then, many people have left the area.

The sentiment of Tijuana immigration has shifted from cautious optimism to despair due to the inability to legally enter the United States. The shelter is no longer full, and the directors say those are still the most vulnerable.

Worse, the Trump administration’s cuts to the U.S. International Development Agency or the U.S. Agency for International Development has put some shelters on the brink of closures, tightening budgets for others and significantly reducing immigrant health care services. It’s hard to fill the gaps now for a lasting organization.

“As attorneys, we want to give people solutions, but now there isn’t,” said Lindsay Toczylowski, co-founder and CEO of the Los Angeles Immigration Defenders Law Center. She visits Tijuana Shelter several times a month. “It’s just that they ask a lot of questions and we say, ‘I’m sorry.'”

Despite the gradual popularity of illegal border crossings, Toczylowski and other advocates believe they will eventually start to increase.

Slavik fled his homeland in 2022, residing in Türkiye and Georgia for the first time before realizing that these countries are not safe as Russian allies.

He cannot return to Russia, where he will be regarded as a terrorist sponsor for donation to President Vladimir Putin Suspicious situation last year.

But living in Mexico or elsewhere in Latin America is difficult because he doesn’t speak Spanish, Slavik said. He speaks basic English and considers going to Canada, but friends tell him that getting asylum there is also difficult.

Now, Slavik began to feel that he had no choice but to try to enter the United States illegally.

“Maybe it’s an opportunity,” he said. “If a lot of people do that, then maybe I can do it.”

Slavik lives in Albergue Assabil, the shelter mainly serves Muslim immigrants. Director Angie Magaña said half of the lives of the fall presidential election since then. Despite the potential danger, many people have returned to their home countries, including Russia, Haiti, Congo, Tajikistan and Afghanistan. She said others went to Panama.

On a recent Friday, the shelter was bustling. The patio offers haircuts. A truck was pulled outside and residents helped carry it while donating bottled water. Within the community center, those who ate breakfast and tea cleaned up the tables when members of humanitarian organizations arrived to play games with their children.

Magaña said she was frank with people who still exist: “Most people hope anything will happen. I told them that the best option is to get asylum in Mexico.”

Toczylowski said the administration was very different from Trump’s first term when she could seek humanitarian entry for particularly desperate cases, such as women fleeing dangerous relationships. Now, whenever a woman says her abuser has found her, she asks Toczylowski what she can do, “This is the first time in my career, we can say ‘no choice is right for you.’”

Within weeks of eliminating the phone app for border dating, Toczylowski brought vulnerable families, including those with disabled children, to the port of entry in San Jesidro.

She said a Border Patrol told them there was no procedure to seek asylum and keep it out.

The U.S. military has added Hexagonal layer Six miles to the border fence near San Isidro.

“Ideally, it can stop them from crossing,” said Jeffrey Stalnaker, acting chief patrol agent for the Border Patrol San Diego area. “We would rather let them get into the port where it’s safer, and hopefully this will guide them in that direction.”

He did not address the fact that the government has basically stopped considering asylum requests for entry. Toczylowski said that in her experience, there are limited exceptions to unaccompanied children.

this Stop USDA funding Life is also changing boundaries. On his first day of office on January 20, Trump signed an executive order that freezes U.S. foreign aid payments for 90 days, awaiting review of efficiency and aligning with foreign policy. The order said foreign aid “is inconsistent with the interests of the United States and in many cases contrary to American values.”

Report on April 3 The Institute for Nonpartisan Immigration Policy found that as much as $2.3 billion in immigration-related grants appeared in the leaked list shared with Congress on the U.S. International Development and the State Department’s terminated foreign aid. Of the funds provided by humanitarian aid, against human trafficking and achieving refugee resettlement, $200 million focuses on preventing immigration from Central America.

The report notes that the consequences of the cuts have begun. For example, the Ecuadorian government uses withdrawal of foreign aid to Prove the justification of the revocation of the amnesty For Venezuelan immigrants, some immigrants may be dissuaded from extending north to the United States.

In Tijuana, Trump’s orders lead to Health and Social Services Clinic Called Comunidad Aves. one The long-term shelter is called Casa del Migrante After the United States-funded organizations reduced support, it is now on the verge of closures, leaving leaders desperately looking for alternative funds.

Midwife Ximena Rojas and her two Doulas teams run a birthing center and provide sexual and reproductive care to immigrants.

Rojas sees 20 patients a day three days a week. Her service is crucial: Many of the women she has seen have never suffered pap smears, and some have been sexually assaulted on immigration routes.

With the closure of the streets and concerns about Casa del Migrante, in a weekly doctor partnership with the Tijuana Goardment, Rojas said she was under so much pressure that her small action somehow expanded its influence.

“We have the greatest ability,” she said. “We need an army.”

Rojas said she is considering opening a food bank to make up for the loss of aid from the U.S. government support.

“Our goal is to reduce infant death, and maternal deaths,” Rojas said. “The best way is nutrition.” “I give them prenatal vitamins every day, but if they’re eating,” Rojas said. [only] One banana every day, just like, vitamins can only be made a lot. ”

Many shelters rely on funds from the International Grocery Immigration Organization. In Espacio Migrante, the money paid for importing ingredients that families in countries such as Russia and Uzbekistan can be religious or culturally suitable for dining.

In La Casita de Union Trans, a shelter for trans women, the facility is heading towards basic necessities (eggs, cooking oil and milk) for the month (about $300).

But director Susy Barrales said American politics will not stop trans women from seeking security or trying to support their shelter.

“I want girls to learn, get careers so they can face anything because I have done it,” said Balales, who is getting a social work permit. “We will continue to work hard.”

Residents of the shelter include Miranda Torres, 31, a hairstylist who fled Venezuela after being raped by a stranger in July and police refused to investigate. She said the attack infected her HIV. Venezuela’s ongoing economic collapse means she is unable to access treatment.

Torres said she walked north through the gap in Darien, a dangerous 60-mile jungle extension that straddled the border between Colombia and Panama, where she was sexually assaulted again.

In Oaxaca, Mexico, she was diagnosed with lymphoma and underwent surgery and chemotherapy. Now, she has round scars on her neck and she covers her bald head with a wig.

After taking some time to recover, Torres finally arrived in Tijuana in December, where she slept on a cardboard box on the street while repetitively and increasingly dangerously entering the United States

She couldn’t secure the date through the phone app and went to the entrance to San Isidro and waited outside for four days to talk to the agent. She was turned away and then detained by Mexican immigration officials before being released due to her health.

Torres said men who belong to the criminal group began to target her, saying that if she didn’t cross the border, they would hurt her. So she tried to climb the border fence but was too weak to lift herself up. Then they told her to swim on a fence that stretched into the Pacific Ocean. She almost drowned.

Now, Torres has given up on the United States and is applying for asylum in Mexico.

“My dream is in my mind, not in any particular country,” she said. Sitting on a bunk bed in one of La Casita’s two bedrooms, while Chappell Roan’s hit single “Pink Pony Club” was played on someone’s phone in the living room.

“If they weren’t possible in the United States, I’ll make them happen here.”