The “
Sound familiar? If it does not, then it should, for crossing borders is a popular topic and political issue in our
The idea of crossing borders used to be intangible to me. I could have read as many news articles as I wanted to, listened to lecturers speak about immigration or life in an emerging economy ad nauseam. I could have joined the border patrol and parked my butt on a concrete wall between
Crossing borders is more than a generic sound-bite, and it is more than an issue that can be resolved with policy. It is more than academic study, and more than a physical presence. It is patience, it is investment, and, above all, it is survival and human life.
Between 500,000 and 1 million Nicaraguans live in
It entails earning a wage quadruple the amount that you would earn in your native land while performing the same duties; sending that extra wage back to family members still in your native land; earning an income that, by definition, may pull you out of poverty.
It entails sleeping in a structure without fear that it will crumble or leak; working in buildings that have solid walls, support services, and floors; taking transportation that is beyond a yellow school bus on its one hundredth repair; having confidence that there are available and functioning emergency services if a time were to arrive when you need them.
It entails receiving an education that teaches you how to spell correctly, how to punctuate, how to analyze and how to think; learning basic facts like how many weeks there are in a year; understanding basic arithmetic and how to read and write; being a part of a system that gives the best and brightest, and the not so brightest, opportunities to study more; believing that with the education you’ve received, you can excel in a job, assuming one is to be had.
Quality of life can work both ways, however. It can work against you when you are resented by the community you have crossed to, where you are the excuse, the scapegoat, the one to blame; when, even as you perform the tasks and do the jobs that nobody else wants to do, you are held in lower regard; when your family or loved ones are far, far away, and the only person you have to depend on is yourself.
During my latest excursion to
Cars look wholesome, and not like they will far apart when they strike their next pothole. Construction is contagious, as if there are too many things to build and not enough people to build them. Restaurants are diverse, offering a variety of cuisines, and are filled with customers. The atmospheric vibe is alive, not apathetic, and the upbeat spirit of the people reflects that. Tourism is flourishing in every corner of the country, and offers affordable hotspots to Gringos and Europeos alike. In so many words, and simple comparisons aside,
While the distinctions are plentiful, something still remained unclear to me after my mini-excursion to the rich coast: how could two worlds in proximity to one another, be so far apart in everything else? Furthermore, why do our discussions related to crossing borders revolve around how to keep people out, instead of what would it take for others to believe in their country the way I believe in mine?
By no means am I an expert, but at least I know better than to cast a soundbite.
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