Trip to the border

There I was in a bus on my way to Matamoros from Guadalajara, Mexico. It was a winter night, on December 27, 1995. I remember a movie playing inside the bus, don’t remember which one as I was too busy with my thoughts, watching the hilly scenery outside the window. The trip lasted about 12 hours and by the time we arrived to the city of Matamoros, it was about 7:00 AM in the morning.

One backpack and about $800 pesos is what I had on me. It is probably the lightest I have traveled since. The $800 pesos was one full month’s worth of my salary working as a courier for a travel agency in Guadalajara, Mexico. At the time, I was contributing to my family’s income and didn’t have much left for savings; the $800 pesos were a risky investment in a dream for a better pay in the United States so I could contribute more to my family.

My family was having a rough time financially and it was about to get worse; my younger brothers were going to go to college soon and I knew the money we had was barely covering our living expenses. The last thing I wanted was for my brother Alejandro, to skip college for lack of money to cover expenses such as school fees, books, etc…Alejandro was a senior in high school, and I felt like we were running out of time. My other two younger brothers, Juan Carlos and Sergio, were still a few years away from finishing high school.

I got out of the bus and sprinted to exit the bus station, I have been told to do this to avoid the Coyotes surrounding the bus station. The Coyotes are people known to look for individuals and families wanting to cross the border illegally and offer to help them cross the border in exchange of large amounts of cash. They are known to take advantage of immigrants and can be very dangerous.

Across from the bus station were a few food stands, I was very hungry and so I walked to one of them to get some food. While in Matamoros I felt very insecure and anxious, as if everyone was watching me and wanted to get something from me. It was probably my paranoia due to the circumstances. I finished my barbacoa tacos and drank my refresco from the food stand and then decided to walk around to find a phone booth.

The reason I had traveled to the northern border city of Matamoros, Mexico was to cross to the United States. I knew I had enough money to take a bus back home but that was not really an option.

The above is an excerpt of a script for the first chapter of The Undocumented Engineer.
A book with a story about an undocumented immigrant from Mexico who later became a U.S. citizen, a software engineer and an entrepreneur.

I’ll keep sharing pieces of my book as I continue writing it. It is my immigration story. Please help me bring this story into a book to be shared with many people by joining my free newsletter to learn about progress on this book. Thanks!