72 Migrante #68: Yeimi Victoria Castro
Yeimi Victoria Castro
Author: Wilbert Torre
Yeimi dreamed of the most anticipated of her parties. She nurtured pink dreams and there was nothing wrong with it: that is life when you are waiting to turn 15. She lived with her grandparents in the farmhouse Las Peñitas del cantón El Rebalse, in the city of Pasaquina, La Unión, El Salvador, a town with a central park that exhibits gardens of geometrical shapes and a cream color parish. Life had the usual complications – money wasn’t enough, split families, mothers and fathers that cross the border to forge their children with a future from afar- but it’s generally gentle. During vacation time everything happened between runaways to the beach and sunsets under the skirts of the Conchagua volcano. The grandparents Cayetano y Victoria took care of everything with the dollars that Yeimi’s mother sent from New York. The day she turned fifteen years old she looked beautiful in her pink dress with blue details. On the house’s table there was a cake and an album for pictures with pink laces. After that party Yaimi continued to dream. She dreamed of princes and quite often they were near her door: she was being hovered by a young man from Nicaragua that melted for her. She also wished to be with her mother. She missed her. Her mother already had plans for her: she would study in a school in New York, then she would work and maybe one day she would get married. It wasn’t a complicated departure. In the town, in addition to the park, the volcano and the beaches, there were also coyotes that announced themselves with labels outside of the homes. On August 10th Yeimi took of to the United States. She wore a sky-blue t-shirt and blue jeans. The coyote received three thousand dollars up front of the seven thousand in which the deal consisted. The grandparents gave her their blessing. She called them on the phone twice to let them know she was in Guatemala and that everything was ok. They never heard from her again. A few days later all of her dreams disappeared, scared off by monsters, like it happens in bedtime stories. In one of her pockets she carried her birth certificate: her ticket of entry to a city she didn’t know and in which she would continue dreaming. The story of Yeimi shouldn’t have ended this way.
Translated by: Alvaro Mojica
Alvaro, this is terrific and I’m sending it off to Alma for the project. Here’s how it’s been edited so far:
Yeimi dreamed of the most anticipated of her parties. She nurtured pink dreams and there was nothing wrong with that: that’s life when you’re waiting for your quinceañera. She lived with her grandparents in the hamlet of Las Peñitas del cantón El Rebalse, part of the township of Pasaquina in the department of La Unión, El Salvador. Pasaquina has a central plaza with geometric lawns and a cream-colored parish church. Life had all the usual complications: too little money, divided families, mothers and fathers who cross the border to forge a future for their children from afar. Still, it’s generally peaceful. When school lets out, life goes on between getaways to the beach and sunsets on the foothills of the Conchagua volcano. Yeimi’s grandparents Cayetano and Victoria took care of everything with the dollars her mother sent from New York.
The day she turned fifteen she looked beautiful in her pink dress with blue trim. On the table were a cake and a photo album bound in pink lace. After her party, Yeimi continued to dream. She dreamed of princes and quite often they were within reach: a young man from Nicaragua who melted for her was hovering nearby. She also wished to be with her mother. She missed her. Her mother had plans: Yeimi would go to school in New York, then work and maybe one day get married. It wasn’t hard to arrange her departure. In addition to the park, the volcano and the beaches, the town also has coyotes who advertise their services on the sides of houses. On August 10th Yeimi took off for the United States. She wore a sky-blue t-shirt and blue jeans. The coyote was paid $3000 up front out of the total charge of $7000. The grandparents gave her their blessing. She called them on the phone twice to let them know she was in Guatemala and everything was OK. They never heard from her again. A few days later all her dreams disappeared, driven away by monsters, as in a bedtime story. In one of her pockets she carried her birth certificate: her ticket to a city she didn’t know and that she would go on dreaming of forever. Yeimi’s story shouldn’t have ended this way.
EAllen — December 9, 2013 @ 6:14 pm