Webquest

For the past week in English I had to choose a web quest created by another student in my class, and do it. So I chose one focusing on Mexican Immigration in which I had to create 3 1-page journal entries from the perspective of a Mexican Immigrant sneaking across the border. Personally I think it is kind of racist how we stereotype the following experience as THE experience that all immigrants encounter. Anyways, here is my web quest:

Entry 1:
Soon my family and I are leaving to head to America. This trip has been in the works for a while now. Here in Mexico my family has a mediocre living, and is in constant threat of death by local warlords or disease. In fact, just the other day my neighbor’s child was killed in a minor gunfight that took place. The body was horrible to look at; during the wake I couldn’t stop imagining it was one of my kids there. Margarita (14) and Pablo (10) deserve better than that, they deserve a life free from the threat of constant death, and the opportunity to better themselves. This is why we are leaving Mexico tomorrow.
For the past year I have been attempting to save up money. Unfortunately, regardless of how much money I end up saving it will be almost worthless once we get into America. I don’t know what the current rate is between the peso and the American dollar, but regardless it favors the dollar heavily. Tomorrow we are leaving for Tijuana, which will allow us easy access to US city of San Diego via jumping the fence and taking off into the sewer system. My cousin recently performed the trek and we will use the same route he used.
In fact, for the past couple of days me and my husband have been closely watching a certain spot along the fence every night in order to determine which time would be the best to cross over and make a run for it. Our finalized time is 3:15 am, right after the second to last patrol goes by, and the next one doesn’t come until 4:00 am, giving us nearly 45 minutes to get my husband, 2 children, and I over the fence and hidden from the border patrol.

Entry 2:
Today we managed to cross the border. Just as we planned we all jumped the fence and made a run for the nearby sewer system. My husband sent me over first, followed by Margarita and Pablo. He followed close behind, determined to get us into America. If worse came to worse he would distract the border patrol as the kids and I got away. The sewer was about a mile away from the fence, nestled between 2 hills. At one time the pipe had a grate at the end to block off the possibility of entrance, but by the time my family had got there, a mangled hole appeared to allow entrance.
After we took the open mile at a suicide pace, we entered the sewage run off pipe and started on our way. We decided we’d rather follow the pipe into the woods instead of San Diego in order to escape the possibility of being caught when coming above ground. We waded for a mile through filth up to our waste. Rats and cockroaches were everywhere, and at any moment a flashlight or a sound could reveal us to the world. Every second I expected to hear a shout of, “There they are!” followed by the pursuit of La Migra. On the trek through the sewer Pablo nearly fainted from exhaustion so my husband and I took turns carrying him.
Finally we arrived at another sewage run off pipe that led into the middle of a thick forest. We decided our best bet would be to take off into the forest and find a place to stay in the trees to sleep, just in case they patrol the sewers or forest during the day. The past few hours have been a torrent of emotion. I am in constant fear of being caught, but the glory of the better life that awaits us is so close that I am willing to do almost anything to get there.

Entry 3:
We have been living in America for some time now, almost 5 months. After my last journal entry, we kept heading north, sticking to the forest as much as possible. We finally settled close to the Oregon border. As I suspected, the funds we brought with us were worth next to nothing in American money. Nowhere near enough to find a house or apartment. It was enough, however, to allow us to set up a little campsite with a sufficient amount of food and manage to get my husband and I jobs.
The jobs are sporadic and money is never guaranteed. Every cent we make is carefully stored in the campsite in an undisclosed location, and is only ever taken when we absolutely need food. Margarita and Pablo attend the public school nearby, which thinks we live in an abandoned house. We would live there but the foundation is too unstable for our family.
They both say school is tough, but Juan (my husband) and I simply tell them to stick it out. Doing well in school is the way to make it in the world. Every night we try to help them with their schoolwork, but they end up teaching Juan and I more than we can teach them. It upsets me that I can’t help them more along in life, but it makes me happy to see them doing so well. Margarita is even in the top of her class, and may even make it into a good college someday. Juan and I are attempting to save up all the money we can for her.
Life here in America is so different from what I expected. I wanted Juan to get a formal job and enough starting money for us to get a small apartment. Instead Juan and I are both working, everyday, whatever jobs we can get. At least this far north from the border discrimination against us is less widespread.