A Haitian migrant shares his financial journey from Haiti to Tijuana, Mexico.
Aldner couldn’t find stable work at home in Haiti and left to join his father in the Dominican Republic. He transitioned out of construction and into people smuggling, which helped him save up enough to leave for Brazil and, eventually, take a shot at getting the US. “I’m not interested in staying here. If I can’t get to the United States now, I’m going to wait for an opportunity to leave... People in Haiti think that Mexico is this successful country, but when you arrive and see the reality, it is not at all what you think.”
My name is Aldner, and I left Haiti in 2006. In Haiti, I worked in construction, but it was never a stable job. I could find something one week and then not find anything at all for two weeks. Sometimes I would go a year without any work. I left Haiti at age 24 and moved to the Dominican Republic so I could work and make something of myself. My father was already living there. I paid less than $11 to get to the Dominican Republic from Haiti. I crossed illegally because it was cheaper. Once there, things weren’t easy. After I crossed the border, my dad abandoned me, but I decided to stay and try to make a living. First, I worked in construction for nine months as a contractor. I made $11 a month. Things weren’t that expensive. I had enough to save, rent a house, and make money transfers to family back home.
I saved up, bought a motorcycle, and eventually stopped doing construction work. I started smuggling instead, and that was what I did until I left for Brazil. I would bring people across the [Haitian-Dominican] border. That was much better pay than doing construction! When I started smuggling, the money I made was my own. If I made $10, that was my $10. If I made $27, it was mine. Life became much better for me. While I worked, I supported my family. Every now and then I would go back to Haiti and help. When the 2010 earthquake hit, I went to Haiti three different times and brought them everything I could.
I left the Dominican Republic in May 2015. I first went to Ecuador, then Peru, and finally got to Brazil. I financed all of this through my savings. I had $2,000 saved; this was pocket money and all other little monies I could scramble together. When I got to Brazil, I felt very welcomed. I was put in a shelter for a month, and then a construction company came to pick us up for work. The company paid for our rent and food. They even paid for healthcare and had someone come clean our house! So, I didn’t really have any bills. My pay was $260 a month, and with extra hours it could come up to $321 to $347. I stayed in Brazil for a year and four months and was given all my documentation. I even have a residency card that’s valid until 2027, and when it expires, I can renew it. In Brazil, I never really touched any of the money I made. I kept it all in the bank. I was able to open the account through the company I worked for. In Brazil, you could even go to a candy vendor in the street and use your bank card. It wasn’t hard for me to understand their system.
In 2016, Brazil fell into a financial crisis. The company I worked for had 200 people working for it. They fired 100 and kept 100. I ended up being one of the 100 people they fired. I spent seven months unemployed. After those seven months, I decided to take my money and leave. It was such a hard decision. I made it as far as Colombia, then decided to turn back to Brazil. I was already settled there. I didn’t have any trouble with the police or fear for my safety. That’s why I didn’t want to leave at first. I was getting comfortable in Brazil, and making the journey to the U.S. would mean going into the unknown. What finally pushed me to go for good was that I couldn’t find work and was running out of money. When I finally left, I traveled through Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, Guatemala, and ended in Mexico.
Back then, immigration didn’t give Africans any problems. So, some Haitians chose to pass for Africans. Haitians were scared, especially in Panama. They thought that because Panama was so close to Haiti, they would be deported. Most of them didn’t come with any identification, so they just went by a Congolese name. I even used a Congolese name! I realized I should have just used my Haitian identity because there was a Haitian who arrived the same way we did, gave his Haitian passport to immigration, and was allowed to pass through the border that same day. Me and all the other people who went by Congolese names were held for eighteen days.
I spent the most money for my journey in Brazil. For me to leave São Paulo and get to Rio Branco, I spent $137. When I left Rio Branco to get to the border of Peru, I paid $14. When I got to Peru, I crossed the border to enter a city called Puerto Maldonado, and I only spent $3 to $6. Then, from there to the border of Ecuador, I spent $46. From the border, I took a bus to the capital, Quito, for $20. Then from there, I paid $7 to get to the border with Colombia. When we got to Colombia, I paid $27 to cross the river into Panama. After the river, we climbed a mountain for two and a half hours, and then we rested. Many people died in those mountains because you had to go pretty much on your own. There are no guides. The guides are the Indian [indigenous] people that live in these mountains, but there aren’t many for Panama. Haitians who had already passed through this route had ripped pieces of a Haitian flag bandanna and tied it along branches to guide our steps. You can even find old shirts tied up. Those all kept you on the right path.
When I left Panama, I paid $20 to get to Costa Rica. But getting to Nicaragua next wasn’t easy. Some people paid $200 to $300. I gave the money, but the mountains were hard. After that, I spent five days walking through Honduras to Guatemala. I didn’t have anything to eat. I paid a smuggler $80 to take me through Honduras, all the way to Mexico. The journey cost me $2,000 in total. When I got to Tapachula, Mexico, I went through immigration and they gave me a pass. I paid $80 for a bus from Tapachula to Tijuana. I got here in November 2016.
My first night, I slept at a bus station because I didn’t know where to go, but the next morning I got up and asked where I could find a shelter. People didn’t know how to direct me, but I finally asked a police officer who took down my name and took me to a shelter. It really helped that I knew how to speak Spanish. The Spanish I spoke in the Dominican Republic is not the same as the Spanish here [in Mexico]. I’ve been learning how Spanish is spoken here, and I’m very comfortable with it.
“I spent more than a month in the shelter and was received very well. They gave us food and water. We found clothing, a place to sleep and bathe, and donations just kept coming. Eventually, I left the shelter and found work.
In my first job, I only stayed for six months because I didn’t like it. It was too dirty, and I worked with chemicals that were bad and made me sick. I was working with metal and I inhaled all the fumes. Even Mexicans told me to leave the job. But in that job, I got paid $121 a week and then, when I signed a work contract, they only took out $13 for the health insurance. It was this job that allowed me to afford rent for a house. I experienced a lot of housing discrimination when I first got here. To find the first house I rented, I had to send a boss of mine to negotiate the price on my behalf. After he negotiated for me, he presented me to the landlord as the renter. Even still, the landlord only acknowledged my Mexican boss when he spoke, and not me. He said that if anything happened, my Mexican boss would be responsible.
My roommates and I paid rent of $105 a month. Even though we always paid on time, the landlord was never happy with us. Sometimes he would even alter the utility bill on us so that we would pay more. We’re lucky that our utilities only came out to $5 [a month]. One day he switched our bill with another Mexican tenant and made us pay $26. I got into so many arguments with him that I just decided to leave.
I went to Chihuahua for another job and stayed there for seven months. I first started with $63 a month and then, with more experience, they increased my pay to $79. Then sometimes I could work extra hours or get a bonus that put me up to $159. I didn’t experience any discrimination there. I got paid the same as the Mexicans. Some Haitians even earned more than the Mexicans because when they got the job, they asked for a raise. The Mexicans are too timid to ask for a raise, but us Haitians will always ask for ours. That’s how you’ll find some Haitians who are making $159, while Mexicans are making $105 to $132. In Chihuahua, the company paid for rent, even though I took a small cut in salary because of it. The salaries were the same between the two cities, but housing was cheaper in Chihuahua. Here in Tijuana, you must pay at least $100 a month for rent. Eventually, I decided to go back to Tijuana because I was not happy with my work in Chihuahua.
Right now, I work at a factory for about $63 to $68 a month. I am also renting a house now with three guys for $168 a month. I feel stuck here because I can’t find a way to get into the U.S. Some people who have children take them [across the border] and get released from detention once they get on U.S. soil. I don’t have a child, so I have no means to cross easily. Even though people say that the United States isn’t that great, I still want to go because here, you work a lot and make no money. It’s not enough to cover what you spend. For example, if I’m making $68 and rent is $105, look at the difference. I must spend my entire pay on rent.
I wouldn’t stay here [in Mexico] even if I was given the chance to change my status. Right now, I only have the temporary residence card. I’m not interested in staying here. If I can’t get to the United States now, I’m going to wait for a chance to leave. I can’t even go back to Brazil, even if I have the Brazilian residency card, because there are people there now who are still struggling to work. There are people who have left Mexico and have gone back to Brazil who are now begging to come to Mexico again. I heard there were about 800 Haitians who went back to Brazil, and things aren’t working out for them. Mexico is good in a way because at least we can find jobs, but you must work in order to eat. It’s not like we can achieve our dreams here. People in Haiti think that Mexico is a successful country, but when you arrive and see the reality, it is not at all what you think.
If someone wanted to leave Haiti and come here to Mexico, I couldn’t tell him not to come. I recently went back to Haiti, and I know what the situation there is like right now. I can’t tell them not to leave. But I would give them advice on the reality of how things are so that they would know what they’re getting into. I had a cousin that wanted to come here permanently. She came from Haiti to visit me for a week. The other day she called from Haiti, asking if she could make $1,000 per month working here in Mexico. I burst out laughing right in her face. I asked her why she hadn’t asked for that kind of information when she was here! I told her, “What government job did she think she would be good for here?” Where did she think she would be able to make that kind of money? This is why we have the internet. Before you go into a country, you must research what it’s about. As someone who’s in the country right now, I’m always researching what’s going on. The pay here doesn’t go above $200 a month!”