English Transcription and Translation of Hazel Mencos's Interview with Hannah
Q: My name is Hannah Schmidt and I’m going to interview Hazel Mencos today, July 23, 2017. Hazel, to start will you tell me something about your childhood?
A: I was born in Guatemala in a town that’s far from the capital, so it was impossible to stay connected to technology. So my childhood was old-fashioned in that way...playing soccer in the streets, being a little dirty, not caring if I was dirty or clean, going on the long walk to school, knowing your neighbors. And you knew what was and was was not going on in the neighborhood. It was a good childhood. A lot of time at home too, because sometimes I wouldn’t go out because it was very dangerous outside. But yes, it was a pleasant childhood.
Q: How was it dangerous?
A: Well, it was dangerous because there were like streetgangs. Young kids, like 16, 17 that would rob homes, or assault women, or kidnap you for the extortion money.
Q: When did you decide to move here?
A: That was in 2014. I’m not really sure but it was around then because my dad died of a disease in Guatemala so the only person who could take care of me was my mom. My sister couldn’t because she needed to be an adult and work and not take care of a kid.
Q: How did you feel when you learned that you were going to go to the U.S?
A: When I heard that I was coming here, it was a day like any other when they told me that I was come to the US and see your mom. I didn’t think twice about it because it had been almost 8 years of not seeing her and I wanted to see her. I thought it was going to be a nice trip even.
Q: Can you describe a little the day that you saw your mom when you first arrived?
A: It was really really..strange because well, I got off the plane with many others who were in my position. And they were all hugging their mothers and everyone. And I did not see my mom and didn’t know where she was...it had been like 8 years without seeing her and so I didn’t really recognize her all the way. So when I saw her, I ran to hug her, and yeah she said that she was very happy...I even cried.
Q: And how was arriving at your house?
A: Really really weird...horrible. Horrible in the way that I had never lived in a house as strange as the ones here in the US. They are very different to the ones in Guatemala so I didn’t know where anything was, and I was also a little freaked out because I had just been in a detention center and it was awful. So really, even when I was let out, I was a bit traumatized about that.
Q: Could you talk a little bit about how you ended up at that detention center?
A: I was between Mexico and the US on the border. They were going to leave us in the US like a shipment. In Mexico that’s called like “throwing” us on the other side, and well, they threw me to Texas. Macali, Texas, maybe San Antonio, I don’t remember well. There we had to pass a checkpoint sort of, where you show your papers and you answer whether you are a citizen and they let you in...when in that moment I didn’t have the papers I needed to pass the checkpoint, so we had to go around it in the jungle so I and all the other men there with me could escape. And it was...I was very afraid because it was the jungle at night...I didn’t know what animals there might be. We ran and the people who wanted to grab us, la migra, well at that point I was a child so I thought that I could die there and no one would know about it, and it was really dramatic for me. In Guatemala I had never felt as much fear in my life. I think that moment was traumatic for me. I was in such a state of shock that I had trouble watching. And for that same reason many...many walked a little slower to not leave me behind, beacase I was like sick...in shock.
Q: And where you able to walk?
A: Yes, with help of a few others who were with me. I was the only minor there and for them you know, it was strange that I could hardly walk. They knew it was hard for kids to be in that kind of circumstance. I was able to do it, but it was really hard.
Q: And after crossing the jungle, what happened?
A: After crossing we got to road where a car was going to pick us up there and take us to someone’s home. From there we were to be taken to CT so...I was going to be with my mom within a week, three days maybe, I’m not sure. But on the road Immigration Police stopped the car. Many people who were in the car jumped out and started running because they didn’t want to be caught. But in that moment I was very very tired so I said, I can’t go on that way, I’m staying here. I had left all my strength in the desert, from literally walking across the border so at that point I just decided to stay in the car and wait for them to capture me. I handed myself over because I did not want to run anymore.
Q: And then, what happened after that?
A: Well immigration police got me and took me to like a checkpoint or something. There they took my information. I was there almost 3 hours, I’m not really sure—giving my information, giving them my story. They wanted to have my papers in order to send me somewhere else. And…so when they took down what they needed a group of soldiers took me to what’s called a detention center. The “jeleras” which are like one room, two rooms, with glass. It was really cold. No matter how hot it was outside the AC inside was on full blast, and they didn’t have blankets or anything. It was like they were trying to teach you a listen, like a form of torture. So that you’d regret what you had done to end up there. It was inhuman, you know? I felt like an animal, not like a person. It was like a personal crisis, how much I wanted not to be there. I wanted to leave. I needed a home, no? Because I was going crazy in there. It was horrible, horrible. I spent 7 days there, in a jail that for someone my age was just awful. There were lots of kids crying, saying they wanted their mom, that they wanted to return to their country because they couldn’t take it anymore. The food was gross. Cold or heated up by a microwave. They didn’t give us a place to change or to shower so we could be clean. The immigration guards were the worst part of it all. They saw that we were suffering and couldn’t care less. And they were fine...doing their job, making their money. It was like “wow”, how inhumane.
Q: What was a typical day like there?
A: It was...sad. We couldn’t sleep, we couldn’t sleep because we had to be waiting in case someone opened the door and called our name. We had to be ready to get on the bus. They told us even, you can’t sleep because if you are called and you don’t respond you’ll have to stay here longer. We would take turns, well, I never needed shifts because I couldn’t sleep at all from the shock I was in. I just wanted to leave so all I could do was wait. Waiting...there was no tv, no games of any kind. We just lied down with an aluminum screen they gave us. Supposedly it reflected heat, but no! It was nothing. It was like a sheet of paper that did not protect you from the cold. We made beds from sweaters that the red cross gave us that were really dirty. It was awful because the cold was so unbearable that we had to put them on. Many women were on their period, and of course they didn’t care. As women, they treated us awfully.
Q: Can you tell us more about how the immigration agents dealt with you?
A: They handled us with anger. They would glare at us whenever they came with food or something else. They tried to put on their angry face. Or they carried a baton in their hand to make us afraid. And sometimes we’d press up against the glass to see their computers and all their archive equipment and whenever we stood there they would send us to sit or lie down so we could not watch them. It was awful. Because some of us would cry behind that window, asking for help because they hadn’t spoken with their parents—who didn’t know if we were dead or alive.
Q: How many rooms were there in the jail?
A: There were two rooms. Not small but not large. Two men’s rooms and two for women. They were kept separate. At first I was in with the adults. But then they didn’t want me to be with adult women. So I was alone...alone in a room like that and it was ugly because by yourself you can’t talk to anyone who might lift your spirit. And all I did was cry...I was a child! And I needed an answer, what was going to happen to me? Where they going to deport me or was I going to stay there? What was going to happen. Because I didn’t even know where I was...my mother didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know any english. I couldn’t even say, “look, I’m doing badly” in english. And the immigration officials took advantage of that to talk about us in front of us. Making fun of us to our face, and stripping the little dignity we felt we had left because they treated us like trash, like we weren’t humans
Q: Was there somewhere else you all ate?
A: No, we ate in the rooms we were held in. There was a bathroom for...way too many of us. There were like 50 girls in one room. Those 50 all had to use the same bathroom. There was no privacy...none. You’d go but it was strange because you didn’t know the people and yet they were there watching you use the bathroom. There was even a camera in the bathroom. I’m not sure if they could see, but I felt like my privacy was violated. The fact that there was a camera there, even though they had us locked up.
Q: And what did you eat?
A: They gave us burritos, those that are sold frozen. And they gave us...meat. Not like what we all to be meat. But just a round thing that had no flavor. I don’t remember a lot of it because I was often not hungry at all. When I finally got out I was like a stick, so thin...because I was never hungry and the food was so bad I gave it away. That’s what the food was, and a juice to drink, three times a day. The same. They never gave us anything that made us want to be there. It was awful, never thinking that they’d ever give us anything good.
Q: And what did you do all day?
A: Just lying there...waiting. So after all that, after seven days there—they put me on a bus and that bus took us to drop people off at the border with Mexico. That bus had adults separately from the kids and the young people. So we split up and I was like “wow”...that fence is all that separates these two countries. And I saw how they treated the Mexicans and those from other countries. It was quite a journey...I remember know like it was something out of the movies. You’re on the bus watching the panorama roll by...the sadness of not knowing where you are or where you are going. I just knew I was in a car with a patrol heavily protected with barriers...like we were criminals. And I don’t know where they took us but they took us to a house where there were other children. There they took my paperwork and information again. And they also gave us some clothes, and I saw other girls there. Later they assigned me a psychiatrist because of the bad shape I was in. I was really really stressed being there… I just wanted to be hom
Q: And how was this new place?
A: The place was alright. They were premade houses, for rent. We shared rooms. Some girls had been there 2, 3 months, even up to a year. But it was overall a big relief for me, there they gave us some breaks, they’d take us out to play and to walk around if we behaved well. They gave us better food. It tasted like glory to me. I was really really happy. They gave us a hairbrush. We made little crafts, things we could busy our hands with while we watched TV and take home. It was amazing! It felt in comparison like they were really taking care of us. I spent around 15 days there...or more, I don’t really remember. There were more kids who were set to arrive. They came and went and the applications for the state to send us to our parents were backed up. So when many others arrived they had to clear space which is how we ended up in military center in san antonio, texas. Which was...awful. Another nightmare because there we were not treated like at the house. I had a nervous breakdown there...it was bad. I needed someone to talk to and I couldn’t take it anymore. I was in bad shape, so they assigned my case a counselor, who said no, you’re here, they are not going to take you back. You’ll be with your mom soon...stuff like that. That helped me some. But it was awful. It was a military center! So the beds were tiny and they woke us early at an exact hour and the food was awful again. Horrible is really the best word I have to describe what it was like and how I felt. I hardly ate thinking about leaving and being on the outside.
Q: What did the counseling help you with?
A: It helped me to not feel as depressed, because I spent all those days crying because I really missed my brother. They knew I was in bad shape, always crying...and that was the only way to calm me down some, to be able to talk to somebody. That helped?
Q: How long were you in the that military center?
A: One week, maybe two? Altogether I was in detention around a month...one month? Two months? I’m really not sure. It felt really long.
Q: And in those place, did you make a friend or have a relationship with others?
A: Yeah there were many girls and young women who were similarly sad. There were times when they came back from their one hour phone call with their family all happy. So we asked them, “so, are you leaving now?” and it was like “yeah! We are getting out!”. And it was sad in a why, like, when is it going to be me?And they always picked flights in the middle of the night so we had to say by to our friends and companions in the middle of the night. We knew we wouldn't see each other again. We didn’t share contacts or anything.
Q: What did you feel when someone was getting out?
A: It made me cry! I felt like I was never going to get out, that I was going to spend years there. I never felt encouraged, like I thought I was about to leave. Just lying there imagining my next day...eating bad food, sitting there without appetite, being in a prison even though I hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t hurt anybody. All I had done was cross the border. And I said, no, it can’t be this way. It was sad day after day.
Q: All that time, what were you waiting for? For your mother to come?
A: No, I was waiting...I wasn’t really involved in my case. They weren’t telling me how it was going. But what I heard was that the president had to sign an authorization for us to be allowed to leave and taken to where our parents were.
Q: So you weren’t told anything about your case?
A: No they didn’t tell me anything. I didn’t even see my lawyers. I don’t know if I even had any. I didn’t know anything. I just knew I had to wait there until they told me we were leaving tomorrow.
Q: And when your time finally came, where were you?
A: When they told me that...I don’t remember where I was. Yeah, I don’t remember well. They told me the news and I was so happy I cried. And at the same time I was sad for the other girls who were there. I asked myself, when is it going to be there turn? I remember how bad it felt when others were released so I tried to contain my emotion. I wish it had been all of us, now! We were behind a fence and seeing in the distance a Mcdonald's knowing that there people were free and kids were eating happily and we were in here—that was hard.
Q: When you boarded the plane, how did you feel?
A: I hadn’t ever been on a plane. It was my first time. I was amazed. The worst is behind me...I’m going to where I should’ve been a long time ago. I’m going to see my mom! I’m going to my place. I’m going to have a bed. I mean, I’d had a bed in the last two places I’d been kept, but it hadn’t been my own. I was always thinking about that. Thinking about what it’d be like to talk with my sister soon. It’s my family, no?
Q: And did you talk to any of them at all throughout all of this?
A: Yes, I spoke with my mom. She’d always say, you’re about to be released, you’ll be here soon, I’ve talked to them, I’ve sent the paperwork they need from Guatemala. You know, things like that to keep me motivated. My sister also talked to me but it was sad talking to hear, hearing how sad she was. She was like another mother to me. And it was sad to hear that she was also sad and I couldn’t do anything about it from here. But she also motivated me to keep persisting, depression makes it hard to keep the will to live, no?
Q: And could you speak with your family in Guatemala?
A: I just told her what was happening. Just like now I’m telling you, I told her everything as it was going on. How I felt and all that. She also like a mental health counselor for me, but she understood me, she knew me, not like the other psychiatrists who’ve seen thousands of children in the same state.
Q: Let’s turn back to the moment that you arrived at your mother’s house for the first time—how did you feel?
A: I felt afraid...because I still felt somehow like I belonged to someone else, even in the new home. Sometimes I’d wake at like two or three in the morning because of nightmares recalling the difficult moments. I’d dream that I was running and felt like I could get caught...or that an animal could kill me in the desert.
Q: Did you start going to school?
A: Yes. That’s when I—well, I settled in and I had to go to school. The school year was ending and I needed to start in the fall after summer vacation. I met other members of my family. They wanted to see me, because I had never seen them in my life here. I started at a school where everyone spoke english. I had never had english in me. I didn’t know anything, and I didn’t have help. It was depressing you know? Not being able to speak your language. You weren’t talking with your people. Some would laugh and others would pity me. The teachers told me they felt bad I didn’t understand what they were talking about in class. I would ask the help of people who knew both languages...but no. They didn’t want to translate for me or help me, I guess.
Q: So how did you feel at school after going through all you did, and with all your new peers, how did it go?
A: It went really poorly. It went okay in that I never fought, nothing too bad happened to me. But I was alone, I didn’t know anyone, and I didn’t know how to communicate with them. I’d often go to the bathroom to cry because I wanted to go back. I felt that this was just the latest punishment. People discriminated against me for not speaking english. I didn’t even know what they were saying. It was also hard to start a new diet after having been malnourished. It was really hard to adjust to all the changes. Even now I wonder, how did I get through it all? Remembering it now is hard. One change is hard enough, but like 20 changes in the course of a months it’s like...how are you alive? How could you take it?
Q: What other changes were difficult?
A: Just like getting to know my mom. She worked, and she had to leave with someone to take care of me, because I was a child. It was like...I want to spend time with you, I haven’t seen you in eight years. But she had to work, she had to bring food home. It’s hard to adjust to a new life—to just eat, sleep, watch tv, and not much else, because I didn’t know anything, and I was afraid the house even though it was dangerous outside like it was in Guatemala. When I came here my mom said, you can go out here, nothing is going to happen. Here there are police in the streets, you can go out with your phone on you. Something could happen...but it’s a really low likelihood. Seriously? I said.
Q: When did you start making friends and finding a community here?
A: In 8th grade I met two friends—one from Guatemala and another from Spain. They were my first friends. We supported each other but it wasn’t the same… We’d each had separate experiences. We didn’t want to share about it with each other. We never learned about each other in that way. But then I started getting involved in an organization called ULA (Unidad Latina en Acción) A few months after arriving in the US I had gone to ULA. I needed help finding a lawyer for my case and to find information about how to enroll in school, about how things were. They helped me out and ever since then I’ve been working with them on many cases like mine and not like mine but part of the same movement.
Q: How did the experiences you have in detention change you?
A: They changed me in that it opened my eyes to the reality of the world. How bad humanity can be, and even so in this country when to be a home of free speech where people take care of one another. When of course it’s not that way. That’s so easy to see when they treat you like they did! And being a kid! What’s a child going to know about what’s good or bad or right or wrong? So in a way those experiences changed my expectations about all that I’d been told in Guatemala about how wonderful the US was going to be. Now I knew the truth of the matter.
Q: How did it change like your personality or way of being?
A: As far as what I felt—I know it’s an experience I can’t forget because of the harm it did to me. An awful trauma. I feel like I’m still fighting myself and the memories of that time. It’s good to see someone to help you with it, but it’s something only you can heal. And I’m always fighting you know? When I have those memories, I just tell myself to focus and remind yourself that you’re here now. But yeah, I’m flooded with thoughts of that time sometimes. It hurts to try to put it into words. It makes me feel sad. Makes me realize how bad that was for me.
Q: Well, thank you, is there anything else you want to share about your experience or the aftermath of it?
A: Yeah, I think I’m lucky to be alive.In the desert you’d encounter people called “coyotes” that are people that will kidnap you and ask your parents for a ransom for release. And I think it was amazing that that didn’t happen to me because I’ve heard lots of stories of kids who watched their friend be killed before their eyes. How do you recover from something like that? After seeing someone kill another, or people using and smuggling hard drugs—that’s dramatic stuff for a child to take in. And I’d like to add one thing. I think to the young girls like I was, they should be given an opportunity, not judged for the reason they crossed the border. We should give them a hand and say—you are okay, now.
Q: That makes sense. Did you encounter a “coyote” at any point during your trip.
A: Yes, I mean they are that ones that also agree to smuggle people across the border. So I was with a coyote a a guide, who knew which route to take. But I wasn’t mistreated. They tried to be good with me. My family was paying a certain amount so that they’d take care of me. I think money really mattered—without it, you’re dead. They needed dollars, and to take someone, they needed money.
Q: Anything else you want to share? Thank you so much.
A: Yes, actually, I’m working with ULA and and studying and after all the bad things that have happened I realize that there are some good things too, like meeting people from different countries. Not everything I think about this country is bad. I know there are good people here who support immigrants, who support me!