He put a pair of jeans, some shirts and a jacket in his backpack and left an empty house in Departamento de Libertad, El Salvador. Wilfredo was going to catch up with his wife and three children, in Miami.
Then, he closed the door of the house he himself had built and put away the key, with the idea of never opening that empty house´s door again. He left his country, motivated to follow his family because “My children are the best thing I´ve got”.
A few months before, MS-13 gang had killed his nephew because the boy had stolen a Marero´s girlfriend. Wilfredo and his wife decided to sell the real state they had and use that money to send their kids to Miami, where his wife was already living.
Putting his “muchachos (children)” –Jonathan 17, Estefany 15 and Yulisa 11- in the hands of a “pollero”, who charged $21,000 USD for the three of them, after taking care of them by himself for 8 years, was the hardest part.
That was the reason just three months later he made up his mind about following them. However, his remaining $2,500 USD were only enough to take the most dangerous road an immigrant can take on his way to the U.S.: the train.
Wilfredo –a 42 year old electrician- knew about risks and wars. When he was 18, he was forced to enroll in the El Salvador´s Army. He fought for 5 years and was paid with lands after the 1991 Peace Treaty was signed. However, peace has never reached that country, which holds the 4th place regarding homicide worldwide with 41.2 assassinations for every 100,000 residents.
Wilfredo met Vilma, his wife, when he was 24 years old. She went to the U.S. when her youngest daughter turned 2 years old, convinced by her brother who, from Florida, had told her about Disney World, Sea World and the dollars.
From the beginning of his journey Wilfredo was scammed. At Tapachula, Chiapas the “guide” never arrived. He got on the train, desperate, and within the first 300Kms, he had already lost more than half of his money due to robberies and police bribes.
His journey had to be cheaper and thus, more dangerous. Wilfredo was confident, even without money, he trusted Mexico´s central states to be a lower-risk area.
It was a quiet night. He was on the train, crossing the central part of the country when he heard someone yelling at him “Now you´re fucked, faggot” while they aimed a 9mm gun at him. The thieves –three young men- warned him, either he gave them $100USD or his journey was over. It was May the 2nd, Wilfredo´s 18th night on the road. He and two men traveling with him were kicked off the train at Celaya, Guanajuato. Wilfredo though he was going to die as he was falling on his back. His head hit the ground, his body was facing-up. His right hand landed and remained on the train tracks as the wheels mangled his wrist.
The train also took away a 14 year old boy´s leg and, the fall broke a 24 year old man´s skull. Red Cross picked them up from the tracks and took them to the hospital. Gangrene ate up Wilfredo´s arm all the way to his elbow so half of his arm had to be amputated.
Now he holds his cigarette with his left hand. Now not only he dreams about catching up with his family, but also, about his arm.
-You think that you are not the same anymore. Overnight, you become empty.
Wilfredo´s journey has had a long layover. He is sitting on a couch, in the yard of the Irapuato shelter. His eyes are fixed on the ground while he thinks about reuniting with his family. Though his chances are slim, they will have to make do: going back to El Salvador is not an option.