It Could Happen Here - As If We Had Been Imprisoned: The Migrant Reception Center

Episode Date: October 31, 2024

In the fourth installment of his series on the Darién Gap, James talks to migrants at Lajas Blancas reception center north of the Darién, who can often be stuck there for months without the money to continue their journeys. Sources: https://www.notiparole.com https://www.instagram.com/p/DAaDkSwh1Jk/?igsh=bmgyanBteW10czd5 https://www.nytimes.com/1964/09/20/archives/a-new-canaldug-by-atom-bombs-nuclear-energy-is-the-key-to-replacing.html https://www.themanual.com/outdoors/darien-gap-feature/ https://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2024/apr/18/panama-darien-gap-jose-raul-mulino https://americasquarterly.org/article/the-darien-gaps-fearsome-reputation-has-been-centuries-in-the-making/ https://www.aljazeera.com/opinions/2022/10/27/the-darien-gap-a-deadly-extension-of-the-us-border https://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/supporting_resources/jmhs.pdf https://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/2022/06/20/snakes-swamps-whisky-british-explorers-went-ultimate-boys-adventure/ https://www.strausscenter.org/publications/asylum-processing-at-the-u-s-mexico-border-august-2024/ https://www.gob.mx/inm/prensa/el-gobierno-mexicano-y-el-inm-articulan-corredor-emergente-de-movilidad-segura-para-el-traslado-de-personas-extranjeras-con-cita-cbp-one https://english.elpais.com/international/2024-03-23/kidnapping-and-escape-of-95-ecuadorian-migrants-in-chiapas-if-you-continue-informing-we-will-return-them-in-bags.html https://humanrightsfirst.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Asylum-Policies-Harm-Black-Asylum-Seekers-FACTSHEET-formatted.pdf https://respondcrisistranslation.org/en/newsb/cbp-ones-obscene-language-errors-create-more-barriers-for-asylum-seekers https://www.msf.org/lack-action-sees-sharp-rise-sexual-violence-people-transiting-darien-gap-panamaSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite and how they've turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech brought to you by an industry veteran with nothing to lose. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts from. On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was,

should the boy go back to his father in Cuba? Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace, the Elian Gonzalez story

on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hey, I'm Jacqueline Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. Black Lit is for the page turners,

for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T, connecting changes everything.

Hey, I'm Gianna Pertenti. And I'm Jamee Jackson-Gadsden. We're the hosts of Let's Talk Offline from LinkedIn News and iHeart Podcasts. If you're early in your career, you probably have a lot of money questions. So we're talking to finance expert Vivian Tu, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it down. Looking at the numbers is one of the most honest reflections of what your financial picture actually is. The numbers won't lie to you. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating.

I don't feel emotions correctly. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take phone calls from anonymous strangers as a fake gecko therapist and try to learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's very interesting. Check it out for yourself by searching for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's me, James. And before we listen to this episode today, I just did want to make you aware

that I conducted these interviews in French and Spanish, mostly Spanish, and then transcribed and translated them. So what you're hearing is a translated interview that's been edited for brevity and content. I hope you enjoy the episode. El general y jefe del ejército libertador del sur, Emiliano Zapata, manifiesto zapatista en Nahuatl Al pueblo de México, a los pueblos y gobiernos del mundo Hermanos, nosotros nacimos de la noche, en ella vivimos, moriremos en ella Pero la luz será mañana para los más, para todos aquellos que hoy lloran la noche Some of you will recognise the audio that we opened this show with, and many of you won't. It's a sample from the fourth declaration of the Lacandon Jungle that Manu Chao used to open his shows with. It's a piece of music that's very emotive for me. Obviously, I'm a white leftist guy in my 30s who learned Spanish and decided

to live in Barcelona, so I have a story about running into Manu Chao once while he was busking, but that's not what I want to share today. Because I'm technologically challenged, I can't seem to get my phone to download songs, but I've managed to download the same Manu Chao playlist that I ripped off a rewritable CD when I was in high school, and put it on the various headphones and Garmin watches that I've had over the last two decades or so. When I'm away for work, I like to run whenever I can. Obviously I wasn't just going to go for a jog straight into the Derry and Gap, but once we were out of Bajo Chiquito, it gave me some time to run and think and process the things that I've seen. And while I do that, I listen to the same dozen or so mp3 files. I was listening to this song one

day after I got back from Las Blancas, as I sweated my way up a hill in the rainforest, hoping to see a sloth. I didn't see a sloth, but it seemed like an appropriate soundtrack. Manu Chao himself is a child of refugees from Francoist Spain. He sings in French and Spanish, Wolof and Galician and Portuguese, among other languages, often several of them in the same song. The product of growing up among other migrants of diverse backgrounds. I like the way he plays with language because it reminds me of the way I so often speak to my friends. Spanglish, for example, or Franglais. It's the way people talk in border regions and refugee camps. Languages that don't have the support of a state or the

academy, but nonetheless convey so much meaning for so many people. That song, in particular, reminds me of my first time reading about Zapatismo in a tiny anarchist cafe in the West Midlands. I remember being struck as a kid from Europe who would frequently drive to France or Belgium to race bikes and buy cheap beer, that the USA still maintained a fortified border with Mexico. People couldn't travel freely, but money could. It was this realisation, and the writings in particular of Subcomandante Marcos, along with my talks in Spain to older anarchists, that encouraged me to learn Spanish, which I pursued by spending months in Spain and Venezuela and learning thanks to the patience of the people around me. It was a new anarchism, which came from the periphery, not the neoliberal core, which gave me my first serious politics.

I travelled to Venezuela to understand the revolution there. I did a PhD to try and understand the revolution in Spain. It's all very well understanding things, but I think it's much more important to do things, and I try to practice mutual aid as much as I can. Since I got back from the Darién, I've loaded up a heavy backpack and carried water into the desert, and spent hours trying to connect the friends I made in the jungle with services along the way. In the face of so much cruelty, it feels good to be doing something to help. And carrying the water is a way I can make a material difference in a terrible situation.

But in all my time reporting, I've really never felt as disempowered and helpless as I did in Las Blancas. Here, at the first official migrant reception center after Darien, the Panamanian government registers migrants. NGOs offer a few services, and the US-funded process of deportation for migrants from Colombia, Cuba, Venezuela, and India begins. Some of those sent to India might well be Nepalese who often travel on fake Indian passports. This little cluster of cheap tents, shipping container offices, UN shelters, and barbed wire fences is where the rubber meets the road for the USA's border and migration policy. And it's heartbreaking to witness. As migrants were called up to the security office to begin the deportation process, I tried to narrate the scene into my voice recorder.

But I struggled, in part because their family members asked me questions, hoping I could help. You know, planks on the side. But I struggled, in part because their family members asked me questions, hoping I could help. You know, planks on the side. Si. Si. But in larger part, this was also difficult because I couldn't help, and I deeply wanted to. The best I could offer was an arm around someone's shoulder, and a promise to email anyone who I could think of and ask what was going on.

This guy's just sobbing. Yeah, that's really tough. Some people's parents, some people's partners. I'll explain exactly what was happening in a moment, but first I want to explain how I got here. On the day we left Maraganti, we set off at the same time as some migrants who were making their own journey to Las Blancas. Our piragua was carrying only myself and my fixer daddy, and our piraguero. So we were moving a lot faster than the boats full of migrants. On the way north north we passed them they smiled and waved as we rode by many of them had met me the day before all of them were ecstatic to have survived the dalien and be heading north you know it's a pretty busy stretch of river there's probably three or four piraguas full of migrants. Hello! There are kids shouting

at me because I taught them some English words yesterday and they're shouting them back to me today, which is nice. We've got a family from Panama. They might be NGO people or something. They looked a little shocked at the whole scene. Here we are passing another piragua now. They're all waving at me. It's got to be uncomfortable packing that density into a piragua. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Gotta be uncomfortable packing that density into a piragua.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 people, yeah. Once the boats arrive, they disembark in Las Blancas. The next day I was there to meet them. We're just walking into Las Blancas. It's hectic here. So it's a new shop here, and outside the shop they've made like a line of outlets to charge people. It's a dollar an hour

to charge your telephone. As we go in, there are a row of kind of sheds which represent shops, and then further in, every NGO has its own little kind of shed. They're all covered in tarps. They're like canvas and tarp tents. I see here, I see UNICEF, I see OIM.

Yeah, they have their sort of little tent office here, I guess. I see here, for example, has root information, psychological support, safe space for women. UNICEF has some workshops for children and then the hours, I guess. Nice little chairs in there. Para los niños. Yeah, para los niños. You can take photographs in there, which is good. Yeah, and then it's just crowds of people coming out.

Oh, and there's also a Mormon, a little Mormon situation. See, O-I-M. I guess the O-I-M are supported by Church of Jesus Christ and the Latter-day Saints. And the Red Cross has got a shipping container. I've been hoping Las Blancas would be a better scene than Bajo Chiquito, with more organised sleeping arrangements and hopefully basic necessities like clean water, food and Wi-Fi provided by the numerous NGOs who work there. But if anything, it was worse than Bajo Chiquito.

In Bajo Chiquito, migrants were exhausted, but also ecstatic to be out the jungle. They knew they'd be moving forward the next day, and for a few bucks they could get anything they needed in the village. The locals told me that if kids didn't have the money to eat, they fed them for free. I didn't see this, but normally seem like they're having a very hard time in any of the days I visited the village. At least, not for financial reasons. Migrants can get as far as Bajo Chiquito on a few hundred dollars in their tenacity. They pay Colombian guides a few hundred bucks to bring them across the ocean from Necocli, and to walk them from the border. And they pay Irembará Piragüero's 25 bucks for the ride up the river.

But once they get to Las Blancas, for a good number of migrants, their journey grinds to a halt. Many of them told me they'd been stuck in the camp for weeks or even months because they couldn't get that $60 that they needed to pay for their travel north. There's no Western Union in the camp, and the only way to transfer money is via a local intermediary, who charges between 20 and 25% of the sum being transferred as a fee. In the morning, migrants arrive on their paraguas just as we did. I jogged down the boat ramp when I saw them to help with their bags and ask about their journey. From there, they form two lines, one for men and one for women and children.

They have their bags searched and their passport checked. They're given a welcome kit from the Red Cross with some basic necessities. Toilet paper, a toothbrush, some soap, stuff like that. Or some of them get a kid. When the kids ran out, it was long before the line of people did. By the time the men were finished, they were given little more than a shrug and good wishes by the Red Cross volunteers, and allowed to head off into the camp. Within the camp, there are a few rows of small casitas

that are allocated to unaccompanied children and families. There are little more than four walls and a roof, but they offer a bit of privacy. For most migrants though, there isn't space, and they have to search for a spot of empty ground in the crowded camp where they can pitch the same tents they bought in Nekokli. The Wi-Fi, which the Red Cross usually provides, wasn't working when I arrived, so I had to let people hotspot off my phone all day. At least the promised food really was free, but the migrants told me it was far from good. Still, this is supposed to be a temporary camp. People register here, get any medical attention they need, and then move forward to

Costa Rica. That's the theory anyway. In practice, if you can't get the 60 bucks you need to move forward, or someone stole it from you in the jungle, or you were forced to walk to the camp because you didn't have 25 bucks for the boat, and then someone robbed you, then you're stuck. We have been here a month. You have people who've been here a month and a half. I've been 27 days here. Well, I thank God because we have three meals a day. We have water, but it still hurts the girls. The food and water always make me sick with diarrhea. It bothers me. I vomit and the heat is so desperate.

But we have to hold on because even though we don't have the resources, like we don't have enough to pay for a ticket, we have to hold on here a little longer. We don't have any family members that can give us support either. What's keeping the migrants here is money, or rather a lack of it. They need 60 bucks to leave. Buses used to take five free passengers per bus, but under Panama's new regime, it seems like they don't. Instead, migrants just gradually amass in growing number of tents that populate the grassy areas of Las Blancas. They might try and do some informal work.

I saw one guy who was cutting hair for a dollar a time. But I couldn't really get a satisfactory response to what they're expected to do if they don't have the money and can't get someone to send the $75 they'd need to cover their travel costs and the 25% transfer fee. If you're short $10, they don't put you on the bus or anything. So things are terrible here. There should at least be support for migrants who at least come with few resources.

They don't have money or anything. They can search your bags so they can see that you're not lying, that you don't have money because nobody wants to be stuck here. You have to move, because nobody wants to be stuck here. You have to move forward because nobody wants to be stuck here in Panama. The idea is to move forward, to get further ahead. We brought our children to look for a future, not to be locked up here in Panama as if we've been imprisoned. The group even tried to leave on foot, hoping to begin walking north in search for a better future and a way to make money on their way. But they were caught, they say, and returned to the camp.

And they beat me hard. I gave myself up because they had caught her, a grandmother with my other daughter. I returned myself voluntarily and they beat me up anyway. And from there we lost the desire to walk back there. What can we do? Rights? They don't care about them. We are human beings, but we don't have rights here in Panama. If they do have the money, migrants could take a bus to the Costa Rican border. When the buses first arrived, I tried to describe the scene as migrants rushed to buy food, not only for this journey, but also for their journey through Costa Rica,

where food and other basics are much more expensive. I'm just here in La Hablanca, when the first buses have arrived. It's about noon. The first bus is going to be full of people who had been waiting in line for hours already. So they're kind of lining up by the bus. And then the next bus, people seem to be kind of rushing to get to them. They're rushing to buy food. I can just see this guy has like an entire carrier bag full of pink wafer biscuits and Coke bottles.

That's going to be his food for the next 11 hours, I guess. Other guys you see with bags of bread rolls and stuff. And they're the first people getting on the bus now. These buses aren't entirely safe. In 2023, 42 people died in a bus crash. This year, 17 were injured in a crash in August. Now, migration officers ride in each bus with the migrants to check on safety protocols and make sure they don't get off anywhere else in the country. Just like everywhere else on their journey, people make money off the migrants. In Las Blancas, a bus costs $60 a head and has 55 passengers, $3,300 a bus, more than a dozen buses leave every day. If even half of the

thousand or so people who arrive use a transfer service to get their bus fare, that's $7,500 in transfer fees alone. Of course, not everyone in the community is making thousands of dollars off the migrants. I interviewed a local shopkeeper who still sits just outside the camp gates, and I asked him to explain his stock, which included the oddly popular I Back the Blue thin blue line t-shirt that I'd seen several people cross most common shopping list for migrants. Yes, almost all of them come in by sets for $10, $15, $20. It depends. There are many who don't have them. I have children's sets for $5. I have sets for

$5 that are pants and sweaters, which is what they're looking for the most. Those that are socks without underwear. Backpacks for $15 because the backpack is so worn out and they need it so much that it carries their belongings. Look, it's not really everyone who can buy. There are certain people who buy,

of course, if everyone bought, but there are very few who can buy. There are certain people who buy, of course, if everyone bought, but there are very few who can buy something to leave here. Almost 70% leave dirty because they don't have anywhere to get money. And the little they can get often comes from selling their phones, their watch, a cap, or their sneakers to be able to get money to pay for their fare to keep going. I asked him how the migration had impacted the community. Were people making a lot of money, I asked? Were they mad about the trash and the pollution of the river?

These are legitimate concerns, even if they're used in bad faith against the migrants. Nobody is perfect, but I can tell you one thing. Honestly, the migrants suffer a lot to be able to carry out this journey. And there are many times when I've even had to give them clothes, some because they don't have any, and well, when a father and family with children comes, what can I say? Look, I have a family, I have to do this, yeah? I ask him what he felt the solution was to the suffering here, the damage done both to people and planet.

I say that oppressing people so that they don't go through the dairy is not the solution. Because if you put it to the point, even if they don't go through the dairy and is not the solution. Because if you put it to the point, even if they don't know an exact percentage, the immigrant gives the economy of the United States a balance. Because the people born there, not to criticize them, people born there want a stable job. And he doesn't want to feel like he's very, very low. However, the immigrant is there, and he's picking fruit,

going to the fruit trees, going to the vegetable fields, going to the garbage dumps, picking up things that many Americans who live there don't do, of course. And so they need them to say that they don't go. They need the support of the immigrant to be able to have the balance that they have today. Like a lot of Panamanians I met, he was broadly in solidarity with the migrants. I didn't really encounter anti-migrant sentiment at all in my time in Panama.

In the capital city, which locals just call Panama, but we can call Panama City, migrants are not really physically present, nor are they present in conversation. I found the transition from the jungle and the refugee camps back to the bustling city, pretty challenging in a lot of ways. I find I'm oddly comfortable amidst the chaos and trauma of a refugee camp. It's a familiar environment for me and I know how to conduct myself. I feel safe with the migrants and I tend to find them very open and welcoming to me. I can talk to anyone and they can talk to me. I bring toys for children and try to bring resources for adults and sometimes I bring my harmonica if I'm being really cliche. In a weird way,

refugee camps are a little safe space for me and even though I know it's bad, I can console myself that I'm helping a little or at least giving people some hope and some information and that can make me feel a bit better. But in the city, I found it hard knowing that people were in a terrible situation and that nobody here seemed to care. I went for a run in the jungle near the city, trying to get some perspective and clear my head. But I just ended up screaming at an inconsiderate driver. I was angry at them for nearly hitting me, but I was just angry at everyone all over the US and even here in Panama City for their indifference at so much human suffering. Hey, I'm Gianna Pardenti.

And I'm Jemay Jackson-Gadsden. We're the hosts of Let's Talk Offline, the early career podcast from LinkedIn News and iHeart Podcasts. One of the most exciting things about having your first real job is that first real paycheck. You're probably thinking, yay, I can finally buy a new phone. But you also have a lot of questions like, how should I be investing this money? I mean, how much do I save?

And what about my 401k? Well, we're talking with finance expert Vivian Tu, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it all down. I always get roasted on the internet when I say this out loud, but I'm like, every single year you need to be asking for a raise of somewhere between 10 to 15%. I'm not saying you're going to get 15% every single year, but if you ask for 10 to 15 and you end up getting eight, that is actually a true raise. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.

I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now and I cannot decide if I like him or not. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world

as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot. Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend, and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents.

Even at the age of 29, they won't let me move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack B. Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners,

for those who listen to audiobooks while comm for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them.

Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life. Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how tech's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel-winning economists to leading journalists in the field, and I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology.

I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough, so join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. you gracias, come again. The podcast where we dive deep into the world of Latin culture, musica, peliculas, and entertainment with some of the biggest names in the game. If you love

hearing real conversations with your favorite Latin celebrities, artists, and culture shifters, this is the podcast for you. We're talking real conversations with our Latin stars, from actors and artists to musicians and creators sharing their stories, struggles, and successes. You know it's going to be filled with chisme laughs and all the vibes that you love. Each Thank you. for Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get into todo lo actual y viral. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. presentarse a la sala de guardia javier alberto gonzález mesa presentarse a la sala de guardia

javier alberto gonzález mesa The lack of concern about migrants in Panama City made what I saw next at Las Blancas even more surprising. An announcement over the loudspeakers called several Colombian passport holders to the migration office. At first, it seemed like they were just going to a little wooden shed with a couple of Cenefront officers in it to return their documents. I'd already noticed that some migrants, and seemingly most of the African migrants, were being called to a different shed to do biometric scans. I wondered if this was part of the same process.

But shortly thereafter, a truck rolled up and several of the Colombians were loaded in. Apparently neither they nor their partners knew what was going on. They're taking some of the Colombian guys away to deport them. You can hear a little kid crying for his dad. They're both there. Why do they say that? Because they're taking them to another camp. They're going to deport them. Man. After what happened, they're also taking them. They're taking his brother and his brother's wife. Taking some of the lady's husband.

Some of the kid's dad. And making them sit on the floor. I don't know why. Yeah, I don't know what they're going to do now. She's trying to give her husband the money and a SIM card so he can call her. Are you going to go get some more food? Other migrants approached me to ask if I knew, which I didn't. But one lady who'd been there for weeks

told me that people who leave this way never come back, and that they end up being deported. So we assumed that's what was happening here. Yeah, this really sucks now. They're taking the deportation bus. There's men crying because their wives are on there, women crying because their husbands are on there, kids are crying because their parents are on there.

And they've just done this crossing and now they're going to send them back. By the time I got back to the city, I was getting texts from migrants with photos of them in handcuffs. More and more of them were being deported, particularly the Colombians. One of them texted me after being returned to Colombia on a flight, gave the following account of detention. They treated us very badly, verbally and psychologically. We all had to do our business in the same cell, and they threw food on the floor for us to eat as we were all in handcuffs. They told us that a Venezuelan had burned down the migrant

detention center in San Vicente and that we would all pay for it and that the Colombians didn't need to leave the country because the president there said it was doing well and there's plenty of work. None of that is true. The migrant facility in San Vicente was burned down and the people working there told me it was a Venezuelan migrant who did that. But none of that excuses any of this. We weren't able to access that facility, as the people who are detained there can't really consent meaningfully to an interview. That's a fair enough objection. But the migrant who was deported also alleged

that they received no hearings or a chance to appeal their deportation. Instead, they were detained for eight days, spent their last US dollars, and were then kicked out of the country. They were not detained or arrested upon reaching Colombia, which makes it a little more difficult for me to believe the claim that only people with outstanding warrants in Colombia were being deported. These weren't the only allegations of mistreatment I heard.

Migrants came to me and whispered about the abuse of black migrants, who were forced to walk to Las Blancas because they couldn't afford the boat ride. I should note that it wasn't the migrants who had been robbed or abused that came to me. It was other migrants. It was a group of guys I'd given a water filter to while they were leaving to walk from Las Blancas. I hadn't been able to join them.

But when they got there, we ran into each other again and they came up to me to share their concerns for the black men who had walked with them. In one instance, one migrant told me he was robbed by what he called, quote, police dressed as thieves. The deportations, which seem to be increasingly commonplace, are being funded by US taxpayer dollars. The same day that Molino took office in July, Homeland Security Secretary Alejandro Mayorkas, himself the child of migrants, visited Panama.

Panama is a relatively young country, and one which the US occupied part of for much of the last century. But despite a real struggle for independence, the Panamanian government didn't seem concerned that the US Secretary of Homeland Security was present at the inauguration of a president in a country that is decidedly not the US homeland. The official DHS readout of his trip notes that the US has enjoyed a flourishing strategic relationship with Panama for over 100 years, which is certainly one way to sum up decades of occupation, violence and profit from the Panama Canal. And one of the more brutal dictatorships in the long list of authoritarian regimes

that the US preferred to communist or even socialist governments in the Western Hemisphere. They also announced that the US governmentS. preferred to communist or even socialist governments in the Western Hemisphere. They also announced that the U.S. government would, quote, help the Panamanian government to remove foreign nationals who do not have a legal basis to remain in Panama. Obviously, I should take this moment to note that under the United Nations Refugee Convention, refugees do have a legal right to travel through a country en route to another. Here's Erica describing that right. The Refugee convention is complex and does afford a lot of rights to people who have fled their countries based on persecution. You

know, you're supposed to be able to pass through whichever country you want, go to whichever country you want, not be criminally prosecuted for crossing the border between ports of entry and not be turned back to a country where you face harm. The U.S. allocated $6 million for a six-month pilot program of repatriations. If the program meets the USA's goals, they might consider expanding it to other countries along the migrant route, according to reporting in Reuters. As of early October, they've deported 530 people to Colombia. That's half of the people I saw arriving in a single day in Baja Chiquito. Because Panama's government and Venezuela's government have ceased relations after the election, Panama is now struggling to deport

Venezuelans back to Venezuela and is actively searching for a third country into which to deport them. But even if the program resulted in one plane load a day, which it hasn't yet, that would be roughly 10% of the total Dalian traffic, and far fewer planes are traveling. What it will do, like so many other DHS policies, is play into the hands of smugglers. Already new ocean routes are being used, which see migrants, many of whom cannot swim, taking long journeys around Panama on ill-equipped boats. This doesn't help anyone, apart from the DHS contractors and staff equipping and training Panamanian personnel,

and the human traffickers making more and more money from migration. I asked the shopkeeper his opinion on this. Look, I'll tell you, I think that instead of giving them a reward for deportation, they should give them support, a lot of support, because it is a huge sacrifice to leave your country where you were born, your children, your family. Leave it to be able to have a future, and you go with your mentality that your future is the United States.

That'll give you an opportunity to get ahead and give well-being to your children. Now, 10% of those who go are going to destroy the good name of the migrants. But what 90% of people really want to do is help their family. And this unbalances everything that is being done by good people because there are many good people who want to get ahead.

And I think that the United States should support, give support to people who really want to fight and move forward, as I just told you. They give a lot of benefit. They contribute to the country. our podcasts. One of the most exciting things about having your first real job is that first real paycheck. You're probably thinking, yay, I can finally buy a new phone. But you also have a lot of questions like, how should I be investing this money? I mean, how much do I save? And what about my 401k? Well, we're talking with finance expert Vivian

Toot, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it all down. I always get roasted on the internet when I say this out loud, but I'm like, every single year you need to be asking for a raise of somewhere between 10 to 15%. I'm not saying you're going to get 15% every single year, but if you ask for 10 to 15 and you end up getting eight, that is actually a true raise. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I am talking to a felon right now, and I cannot decide if I like him or not.

Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take real phone calls from anonymous strangers all over the world as a fake gecko therapist and try to dig into their brains and learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept, but I promise it's pretty interesting if you give it a shot. Matter of fact, here's a few more examples of the kinds of calls we get on this show. I live with my boyfriend and I found his piss jar in our apartment. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. I have very overbearing parents. Even at the age of 29, they won't let me move out of their house. So if you want an excuse to get out of your own head and see what's going on in someone else's head, search for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app,

Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. It's the one with the green guy on it. Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. I'm Jack Peace Thomas,

and I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands, for those who find themselves seeking solace, wisdom, and refuge between the chapters. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works while uncovering the stories of the brilliant writers behind them.

Black Lit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers and to bring their words to life listen to black lit on the iHeartRadio app apple podcast or wherever you get your podcast hola mi gente it's honey german and i'm bringing you gracias come again the podcast where we dive deep into the world of latin culture musica peliculas and entertainment with some of the biggest names in the game if you love hearing real conversations with your favorite Latin celebrities, artists, and culture shifters, this is the podcast for you. We're talking real conversations with our Latin stars, from actors and artists to musicians and creators,

sharing their stories, struggles, and successes. You know it's going to be filled with chisme laughs and all the vibes that you love. Each week, we'll explore everything from music and pop culture to deeper topics like identity, community, and breaking down barriers in all sorts of industries. Don't miss out on the fun, el té caliente, and life stories.

Join me for Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get into todo lo actual y viral. Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast, and we're kicking off our second season digging into how tech's elite has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires.

From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry veteran with nothing to lose. This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel winning economists to leading journalists in the field. And I'll be digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible. Don't get me wrong, though. I love technology. I just hate the people in charge and want them to get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. After leaving Las Blancas, I felt pretty down about the fact that people were just hitting a wall that they couldn't overcome. Since then, I've stayed in touch with many of them.

For some, a friend or family member was able to send the money and they made it to Costa Rica on the bus. family member was able to send the money and they made it to Costa Rica on the bus. From there, they crossed quickly into Nicaragua and Guatemala before arriving in the Mexican border city of Tapachula in the state of Chiapas, and ironically not so very far from where the Zapatistas made their revolution 30 years ago. Once they cross the southern border of Mexico, migrants can begin their application for asylum using the CBP One app that we've talked about so much on this show before. They can use it in Tabasco and Chiapas, the southern border states. And then once again, when they're north of Mexico City. To recap very briefly, the app is terrible in almost every way,

including its inability to recognize black faces, its limited functionality on Android phones, which are the vast majority of devices used by migrants, its constant crashing, and an eight to nine month wait time for asylum appointments. Here's Erica explaining some of those problems. You have to have a relatively new smartphone. You have to have an address. All the people you're traveling with have to be with you, right? And you have to first get through the initial kind of registration phase,

which doesn't always work. The program is very glitchy you have to take a live photo and you have to wait essentially so you know it's kind of random too some people will get an appointment within three months but i would say most people are waiting 9 to 12 at this point you don't have any legal status in mexico while you're waiting unless you can apply for some other status in Mexico independently. Not only is the app very poorly designed, it's also a de facto metering system on asylum. Here's Erica explaining that. We've been litigating against the use of CBP1 for a few years now. My organization, Alotrolavo, and Patient Bridge Alliance.

And the reason why we are fighting against the required use of CBP-1 is first because it is an illegal metering system. So we've already litigated the fact that there is no number limit on the amount of individuals who can seek asylum at the U.S.-Mexico border. And Customs and Border Protection legally does not have the right to turn people away. And CBPP1 essentially allows them to do that. There were physical metering lists at ports of entry before CBP1 was implemented as essentially the only way to access the US asylum system at ports of entry. And now it's a digital metering list. And it's very limited. Recently, the Department of Homeland Security lost a court case which forced them to release records. In there were some of the app logs and

data regarding CBP1. I'm still in the phase of combing through that and asking my friends who know more about technology than I do to explain exactly what the limitations with the app are. But it doesn't really matter. DHS is well aware of the app's flaws, and it doesn't really seem to see them as flaws at all. The goal of the app is to make it harder for people, even those with very legitimate asylum claims, to obtain asylum in the USA. As we heard yesterday, the CHNV program is no better. I recently read a Reddit thread of applicants who've been waiting nearly two years. What I didn't mention yesterday is a parallel program for another group of migrants, which

I'll let Erica explain. I want to mention the fact that there is a cap, right? I think it's $30,000 a month or something like that for those four countries. But it's almost identical to the Ukrainian United for Ukraine program, which doesn't have a cap. Right. So there's no limit to how many Ukrainians can get the same benefit. Right. So there's no limit to how many Ukrainians can get the same benefit. And they are renewing the humanitarian parole for Ukrainians, which I believe was just announced almost within weeks of them announcing that they're not renewing for the other four countries. So it's really a very stark demonstration of how the U.S. immigration system, even when it's a relatively meager benefit, is based on race, is based on which country you're from. What this means is that in practice, the migrants I spoke to face a long and dangerous wait in Mexico, while others skip ahead. I've got nothing against Ukrainians, and I don't think many of them do either. I tried to go to Ukraine and report, but the visas ended up taking so long that I missed

the flights that I'd booked. I have, however, a serious problem with the Biden administration, which left people who fought alongside its own US troops to die in Afghanistan, and turned away migrants from all over the world, but then opened its arms to a country that just happens to have the majority of its citizens be the same race as the president. It's cruel, and it's wrong, and it's barely ever even mentioned in national media coverage. For those not fortunate enough to be Ukrainian, here's what waiting in Mexico looks like. The incidence of crime directed at migrants is horrifyingly high. We had done an electronic survey a few years ago, and this was during Title 42, when people were just being expelled to Mexico.

And if I remember correctly, it was like around 25 to 30 percent of people had been either raped, sex trafficked, assaulted, kidnapped. I mean, the list goes on and on. We've seen a lot of people lose their lives just due to violence. And the kidnapping rates are through the roof. Almost everyone you've heard from in this series is now stuck in Mexico. Some of them have been kidnapped, paid ransomed and released. Some of them have been sexually assaulted. Many of them have been robbed. Some of them have, after surviving one of the most deadly land migration routes on earth, been killed while waiting in Mexico for an app to stop crashing on their phones. Over the weeks since I got home, I've seen them go gradually more desperate and afraid. Just to get to Mexico, many of them have spent several thousand dollars.

Once there in Tapachula, they're faced with the astronomical cost for the trip north, often several thousand dollars more, and many of them, their phones exhausted, have slept on the streets. Those who didn't speak Spanish struggled to find refuge. Those who did wanted to move quickly north but struggled to find the money. Here are the Iranian migrants you heard earlier in the series explaining what they'd already heard about CBP1. It's so tough because some police in the way, they took our money that we came from Iran. It was so difficult for us.

And resume the way to Mexico. Mexico is so difficult for us. And something else, CBP1 is not working for us, for Iranian people. I know the people who are in Mexico City for about three months. For three months. Yeah, CBP1 is terrible. Because of that, Iranian people go to the wall and... Yeah, yeah.

It's not our choice. We have to do this. We don't want our choice. We have to do this. We don't want them, but we have to do this. Yeah, it's good to explain. According to a study conducted at University of Texas, wait times are as high as eight or nine months on average now. Mexico announced on the 31st of August that it will provide security and food for migrants

who have an appointment to travel north from the south of the country to the place where they have a CBP1 appointment. Migrants absolutely have been robbed or kidnapped on their way to their appointment and missed it as a result, but they're just as vulnerable in the eight or nine months that they have to wait for one. Migrants in Tapachula are at a very high risk for kidnapping and are often held until their families pay ransoms. But without money or an appointment, they have little means of leaving the city. Some choose to travel a little further north and then hop on a freight train known as La Bestia, the Beast, an extraordinarily risky endeavor that several of the people I spoke to for this series

have undertaken. The only place to ride on these trains is on top of carriages, exposing migrants to freezing temperatures in the desert night. Even on the train, they're not safe from kidnapping. Like many migrants, the Iranian group were well-informed about domestic politics in the US, and they said that when they made their journey north, they wanted to be sure to avoid the states where local law enforcement was likely to turn them over for deportation. In reality, that could be any of the states, but they're probably right that their life would be a little easier on the West Coast.

I heard it's so difficult, and about three months, four months, more than seven months, they will arrest us in the US. I heard in Mississippi, in Texas, in the middle of the country. I think just California is a little, little, little better. Especially our money is very, excuse me, shit money in the world. And we have to pay a lot of money for this way. Because our one... Yeah.

One dollar is 60,000 human. Some, of course, will choose to cross the border between ports of entry as they become desperate to see their families or afraid of remaining in Mexico. Since President Biden's executive order earlier this summer, doing this can result in expedited removal proceedings. And effectively, Biden's new ruling denies asylum by default to anyone crossing the border when daily crossings surpass 2,500. In fact, this is a continuation of extremely punitive and cruel politics that have been in place since he was finally forced to stop using Title 42, which if you're not aware

is a public health law used by the Trump administration and embraced by the Biden administration as an asylum law. It has already resulted in deportations of people back to places where they have extremely credible fears of harm, and created a system whereby migrants have no idea how they will be treated on any given day. Again, it's played into the hands of anyone seeking to smuggle migrants into the country undetected, while also harming innocent people coming to this country to ask for protection. Here's Erica's short history of Biden's asylum policy since last year. So when the Biden administration lifted Title 42, they essentially imposed what I call a transit ban. So there's a couple of components to it. One is if you do not enter the United States at a port of entry with a CBP-1 appointment, you are presumed ineligible for asylum unless you fall under

a few narrow exceptions, which are not consistently applied. So the exceptions are things like you were having a medical emergency, you were running for your life, you couldn't access the app for some reason. But in practice, those exceptions are almost never applied at ports. There's been a few kind of alternative programs run by shelters or local governments where people with extreme medical vulnerabilities, for example, can be let in without an appointment, but we don't know whether the ban applies to them once they enter without that appointment, right? So it's, like I said, inconsistently applied exceptions. If you enter between a port of entry, you're presumed ineligible for asylum, again, unless you meet some narrow exceptions. And what that means is you can still apply for other types of protection in the United States. So there's two principal types of protection.

One is called withholding of removal which is like asylum but with a higher standard and then the other is convention against torture which you just have to prove it's more likely than not that your own government will torture you which is more extreme than persecution but isn't necessarily based on a protected ground so the torture could be for any reason but it's it's a high hurdle but the most important thing is those two types of protection are not path to citizenship, and they do not allow you to petition for your family. So for example, if you get asylum in the US, and then you want to ask for your wife and children to join you, there is an avenue for that. And all of you can eventually become citizens. With withholding of

removal and prevention against torture, you basically get a work permit. If conditions in your country change, they can deport you, and you can never leave the United States, and you can never reunify with your family, and you could never become a citizen. This won't deter people. I speak to people every day who cross to Dali'in, were kidnapped, robbed, and sometimes raped on their way here. They're going through all of that because we refuse to give people a dignified or safe way to come here. They know it's a risk, and they continue to come because they think it's the only option. Here's Powers from Cameroon explaining that.

It's deadly. I won't lie to you. It's 50-50, live and dead, honestly speaking. But we had to take the risk because I think that was the only option that we had. If you can't imagine taking those risks, it's likely because you can't imagine the things these people are leaving behind either. As a conflict reporter, I've been able to see a small amount of what they're fleeing. War, death, poverty, state violence. I don't know if I'd be brave or strong enough to do the same,

but I have a lot of respect for people who can. Tomorrow, we're going to talk about the people who helped them along the way and what you can do to support them when the state won't. It Could Happen Here is a production of Cool Zone Media. For more podcasts from Cool Zone Media, visit our website, coolzonemedia.com, or check us out on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to podcasts. You can now find sources for It Could Happen Here listed directly in episode descriptions. Thanks for listening. Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast,

and we're kicking off our second season digging into tech's elite and how they've turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires. From the chaotic world of generative AI to the destruction of Google search, Better Offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech brought to you by an industry veteran with nothing to lose. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts from. On Thanksgiving Day, 1999, five-year-old Cuban boy Elian Gonzalez was found off the coast of Florida. And the question was, should the boy go back to his father in Cuba? Mr. Gonzalez wanted to go home and he wanted to take his son with him. Or stay with his relatives in Miami. Imagine that your mother died trying to get you to freedom. Listen to Chess Peace,

the Elian Gonzalez story on the iHeartRadio Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature. Black Lit is for the page turners, for those who listen to audiobooks while running errands or at the end of a busy day. From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry, we'll explore the stories that shape our culture. Listen to Black Lit on the Black Effect Podcast Network, iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. AT&T.

Connecting changes everything. Hey, I'm Gianna Pertenti. And I'm Jamee Jackson-Gadsden. We're the hosts of Let's Talk Offline from LinkedIn News and iHeart Podcasts. If you're early in your career, you probably have a lot of money questions. So we're talking to finance expert Vivian Tu, aka Your Rich BFF, to break it down. Looking at the numbers is one of the most honest reflections of what your financial picture actually is.

The numbers won't lie to you. Listen to this week's episode of Let's Talk Offline on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. I found out I was related to the guy that I was dating. I don't feel emotions correctly. I collect my roommate's toenails and fingernails. Those were some callers from my call-in podcast, Therapy Gecko. It's a show where I take phone calls from anonymous strangers as a fake gecko therapist and try to learn a little bit about their lives. I know that's a weird concept,

but I promise it's very interesting. Check it out for yourself by searching for Therapy Gecko on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.