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February 13th 2007

Published: February 13th 2007

The Internship Begins

I have begun my work as an intern with CAREF (Servicio Ecuménico de Apoyo y Orientación a Migrantes y Refugiados), and suddenly my life in Argentina is dramatically different. It's nice, though, to have a purpose again and a place to report each morning promptly at 9 AM.

The First Week
An introductory meeting to the agency involved the director Gabriela, her assistant Carmen and myself. Over a single cup of Mate passed back and forth between the three of us (as is the custom here), Gabriela and Carmen explained the history of immigration in Argentina along with CAREF's role in this arena over the past 20 years. CAREF has long been an integral player in the resettlement of refugees and in helping migrants navigate the entanglement of immigration law in Argentina. The agency is also involved in projects assisting human trafficking victims and works closely with other organizations in the city to promote human rights for all.

Allow me to reiterate a point I made earlier: Since arriving in Buenos Aires, I have been struck by Argentina's rich immigrant population and by the profound influence of the Italians and French that migrated here in droves in the latter years of the 19 century and the early years of the 20th. This influence still today permeates society at all levels, particularly on a cultural one, and is reflected in the language, food, music, dance, architecture, etc. After all, Buenos Aires isn't dubbed "The Paris of South America" without good reason. However, there is much more to Argentina's history of immigration, and CAREF wanted me to know about it. So, they sent me to the National Immigration Museum for a few hours on Tuesday for the benefit of my own enlightenment. (Side note: While there, I chanced upon an Italian documentary maker who asked if he could interview me. I said yes, did the interview and was told to check out his website to see the final product in a few months time. We'll see about this documentary. Also, this guy was VERY interested in my thoughts on George Bush and how the Bush administration handles immigration.) Needless to say, through the visit to the museum and with the help of CAREF staff, I have learned that in recent years Argentina has been a repository for Eastern European, Peruvian, Bolivian and Paraguayan immigrants, among those from other countries as well-a fact that along with major economic and political factors, has slowly influenced the social dynamic of this country. I could go on and on, but I won't. I just wanted to illustrate that I am learning heaps of interesting things so far in field, and I wanted you to have some background info on the work I am doing.

Apart from perusing Argentina's immigration history, other aspects of the job require that I familiarize myself with agency staff, programs, policies, etc., and so I have spent a lot of time reading, observing other employees as they assist clients in accessing social services/basic needs, and in composing letters in English for the director since she speaks none. Other aspects of my work with CAREF include: assisting with fund raising, contributing to international Redes (international networks of people working in the name of human rights for all, especially for immigrants and refugees), and observing the CAREF legal clinic which takes place on Mondays and Thursdays. Every day is different, though. Friday, for example, was by far the most exciting day yet. I helped take a Ukrainian immigrant to the airport, for he was returning to his country after 3 long years of struggling to survive in Argentina. He didn't have any money, so after much negotiating with OIM (International Organization for Migration), it was agreed that he would return to Kiev on a ticket purchased through this organization. It was a fascinating, multilayered social work venture to say the least, and one filled with hours of client contact and the opportunity to elicit this man's truly heartbreaking story. I will eventually explain the reasons why this venture was multilayed, but for now, I will just recount the airport run experience.

For confidentiality reasons let's call the client M.:
I accompanied a CAREF staff member named Anna to collect M. from the Ukraine church he has called home for the past year or so. By the way, without the church's support, M., whose is unemployed and whose Spanish is limited, would be sleeping in the street. M. had a 2:30 PM flight out of Buenos Aires and was meant to be ready for pick-up at 9:45 AM. Well, when Anna and I arrived, he was not even half way finished packing. Somehow M. had come into possession of 2 giant suitcases and was frantically, FRANTICALLY shoveling junk into them. Ignoring Anna's warnings about airline weight limits, never mind the number of bags alloted to a single passenger, M. proceeded to stuff everything but the kitchen sink into these elephantine receptacles of suitcases. I have never seen anything like the squalor in which M. lived, nor have I ever seen a person want so desperately to haul it across the Atlantic Ocean. Understanding, however, would come later, but in this moment, alarm bells went off in my head when I watched M. jam an old onion, a dilapidated plastic stool and a wet rag into the bag. Finally, M. bid good by to his fellow friends at the church bunk and three of us were away to the airport. Earlier, Gabriela had asked me to extract M's story, to borrow from narrative theory and assess how he felt about being sent back to Ucrania. So, in the car I began an informal interview and inquired about his experience in Argentina. I learned from M., who at this point feels both anger and affection for Argentina, that he had been in Buenos Aires for exactly three years, 8 months, and 25 days. Now, when I meet a man capable of quoting to the day the precise amount of time he has been in a place, I suspect he has either been hovering at one of two extremes: He has either loved every second of the experience, or the experience has been a living hell. Well, M., I would learn, had indeed endured four very difficult years in Argentina and was ready to go home. First of all, M. elected Argentina upon hearing of the prospect of finding work, good food, friendly people, a mild climate, tons of culture, and an easy place in which to obtain a visa. Apart from getting the visa, all of these hopes quickly died when M. could not get hired upon arrival in his new home. Where he had worked as a bus driver for 20 years in Ucrania, M. could not secure any work in Argentina, due to language barriers, homesickness, and I suspect, eventual demise into alcoholism. Later, when M. realized Argentina had nothing to offer him, he had no money to return home, and this is precisely where CAREF steps in. CAREF initiated the long, convoluted process of making a case to OIM so that M. could get free passage back to Ucrania. Finally, after more than a year, OIM agreed to funding M.'s flight back, and this is what I witnessed on Friday.

So there we are, at the airport, getting M. checked in at tha AlItalia desk when it suddenly comes time to weight the monstrous suitcases, which, wouldn't you know, far surpassed the weight limit....200 Euros over the weight limit at that!! Anna nearly collapsed when she learned of the outrageous charge, and I thought I might have to hose her down. Next, Anna turned in a rage to face M. and demanded that he throw away half of the bags' contents. So, the three of us got out of line, parked ourselves in a dark corner and began rummaging through the bags to diminish the load. M. was not happy. He just could not understand why soiled rags, dirty Tupperware, old radios, stacks of outdated magazines, pairs of mechanical goggles, empty garbage bags, stained sheets and God knows what else needed to come out of the bags. M. wanted to take everything-even stacks of used and crumpled napkins-home with him. He resisted every item Anna and I pulled from the bags. He was frantic to hold on to empty boxes, filthy underwear, dirty cutlery and mounds of blank papers. Suddenly it dawned on me that M. clung desperately to everything before him because it was all he had. Those items encompassed all he had here in Argentina, and judging from the story of his upbringing in Ucarania, were likely all he would have upon his return. I suddenly understood why nothing was too invaluable for M. to leave behind, and it made me sad. It made me sad to be the decision maker in this situation, to tell him, a 55-year old homeless man, what was and was not important. Still though, rules are rules, and there simply was no money to pay for M.'s sad plight. But, in the end, Anna talked the airline into reducing the cost of the extra weight, and for a much more reasonable fee that CAREF agreed to cover, M. was able to check one over stuffed bag. Anna then promised to ship the discarded items to M.'s home in Kiev at a later date.

Finally, Anna and I walked M. to the point in airports beyond which unticketed passengers cannot venture, hugged him goodbye, wished him well, and we saw him no more.

Anyway, that constituted my Friday. Of course, a million ethical and philosophical issues get raised for me when I see something like this, but there are also a range of emotions that get triggered too. The work is profound and very sad at times. I don't know what to think of it or why exactly I am interested. I have thought about M. all weekend. I cannot say that I liked him, for he actually made me quite frustrated at times and he smelled bad. I just don't know. I don't know why situations like M's happen. Why does Argentina grant entry and issue visas to immigrants so easily if there is no work for these people? If they did not come, CAREF would not have to fight for the money to send them back. Part of the reason is political. Another reason is economical. Besides, conditions are really bad in some of the countries from whence these immigrants come, like Paraguay for example. Then again, some immigrants do find work here and they benefit greatly. I don't have any good answers, and I don't know if there are any.

Thoughts?

The Internship Begins

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