Nusly the Migrant part 3
Nusly the Migrant part 3
On the Greyhound but with a change of direction ...
Two nights ago Nusly told their captor that they were leaving. He was furious and demanded $4,500 before he would let them leave. Really? They had been there almost three months with no work, as had been promised, other than Nusly working in the house full time for no pay. Where did he think that they were going to find $4,500?
Early on after their arrival I had sent them a bit of money via Western Union. As Nusly has no legal ID for the Unites States (nope, neither one of them has a passport which is apparently very common) I had to send the money to the captor who, clearly without thinking, forwarded a copy of his driver’s license rather than just providing his name. So, as his demands for $4,500 continued, he was reminded that Nusly had gringa friends who had a copy of his ID and if the two were not allowed to leave or if contact was lost they would contact ICE and the police. The next day, yesterday, Nusly and Jefferson walked out of the house without incident with thier $45, water bottles and all of their worldly goods in two backpacks.
It turns out the captor’s parents are neighbors of Nusly’s parents in the rural, agricultural village of San Andres Itzapa, located about a thirty minute drive from Antigua.. The plot thickens. Was Nusly and her family enticed into mortgaging their property, enriching the coyote and also enriching his pal the captor who seems to supply labor for the chicken factories (remember the 200 people for chicken pepían on New Year’s Eve) while charging those, unsuspecting workers for sloppy false papers and “room” and board? When the bank forecloses on the property of Nusly’s parents will the family of the captor pick it up at a discount with his ill gotten gains? Time will tell. Is the entire village complicit?
Nusly and Jefferson successfully reached a 7/11 serving as a Greyhound stop in Dover, Delaware late yesterday after walking into the town of Georgetown and taking two different buses further depleting their cash supply. It was cold, almost dark and they had not eaten since the day before. Google Maps told me that there were some restaurants in the area and I figured that I could call, order something for them and use a credit card. However, they seemed reluctant to venture very far so I called the 7/11 and spoke to a very nice fellow and asked if they could come in and get something to eat and I would pay by credit card. He indicated that he had no way to input a credit card over the phone. I asked about restaurants in the area and he said that there was a Popeye’s across the street. I called Popeye’s and they suggested that I use their mobile app so I downloaded the app, ordered a couple of chicken sandwiches, fries and soft drinks and told them to go across the street.
I told them to eat slowly so they could stay inside as the restaurant was open until 10 and the bus was due at midnight. Another order for a box of chicken was put in so they could take it with them on the bus. Returning to the 7/11 they were invited to stay inside pending the arrival of the bus though, as their departure time came, Jefferson paced outdoors.
About a half hour before the arrival of the bus there was a message that family members in Kansas City, Kansas were offering a room in their apartment and restaurant jobs paying $20 an hour. So, cancel Reno and change the bus ticket from Reno to Kansas City where, at least, they won’t be in a homeless shelter.
At this writing they are between Richmond and Nashville eating leftover Popeye’s chicken. In Dallas they will be met by my cousin’s who actually met Jefferson last year. The cousins will see that they have enough food and cash to see them on to their final destination. Instead of carrying on to Los Angeles from Dallas they will take a hard right and head to Kansas City and friendly, welcoming faces.