CARAVANAS DEL DIABLO
Photographs by Ada Trillo
September 17, 2021–February 13, 2022
Documentary photographer Ada Trillo captures the incredible journey that Central American migrants took in 2018 and 2020, to escape violence and poor economic conditions for the hope of safety, security, and possibility.
THE 2018 CARAVAN
In October 2018, I joined a caravan of over 4,000 migrants from Honduras, Guatemala, and El Salvador as they made their way to the US-Mexico border. Two years later, I joined another caravan organized by community leaders in San Pedro Sula, Honduras.
For migrants who are too poor to pay a smuggler to get them across the border, a caravan becomes the only viable option that can provide at least a basic level of safety during their journey. As the caravans made their way through neighboring countries, they rapidly grew in size as more and more people, fed up with their living circumstances, decided to join them.
Their hope was that strength in numbers would protect them and possibly even persuade the US to open its doors. The opposite happened. Donald Trump declared a national emergency and sent troops to the US-Mexico border. Trump also threatened to cut humanitarian aid to Central America.
When I arrived in Tapachula, Mexico, I photographed parents, students, and children, including disabled people, who had left their home countries to save their lives. Many were fleeing extortion and death threats from gangs. All possessed the simple wish to live free of fear. A clever young woman from Honduras, who goes by the name Fer, disguised herself in men's clothing to avoid being raped. Along their journey, many people throughout Mexico showed compassion and solidarity with the caravan by giving food, shelter, and fresh clothes to those making the journey.
While my photographs document the plight and resilience of refugees and migrants, I hope that my work goes further than educating or raising awareness to compelling others to take action in their community. It is necessary to expose the truth about migrants and the injustices they suffer.
— Ada Trillo, documentary photographer
For migrants who are too poor to pay a smuggler to get them across the border, a caravan becomes the only viable option that can provide at least a basic level of safety during their journey. As the caravans made their way through neighboring countries, they rapidly grew in size as more and more people, fed up with their living circumstances, decided to join them.
Their hope was that strength in numbers would protect them and possibly even persuade the US to open its doors. The opposite happened. Donald Trump declared a national emergency and sent troops to the US-Mexico border. Trump also threatened to cut humanitarian aid to Central America.
When I arrived in Tapachula, Mexico, I photographed parents, students, and children, including disabled people, who had left their home countries to save their lives. Many were fleeing extortion and death threats from gangs. All possessed the simple wish to live free of fear. A clever young woman from Honduras, who goes by the name Fer, disguised herself in men's clothing to avoid being raped. Along their journey, many people throughout Mexico showed compassion and solidarity with the caravan by giving food, shelter, and fresh clothes to those making the journey.
While my photographs document the plight and resilience of refugees and migrants, I hope that my work goes further than educating or raising awareness to compelling others to take action in their community. It is necessary to expose the truth about migrants and the injustices they suffer.
— Ada Trillo, documentary photographer
Joel Crosses the Suchiate, Guatemala-Mexico Border, 2018.
The migrant caravan successfully crossed the Suchiate River from Guatemala to Mexico. Having traveled across two countries in eight days, Joel, a Honduran migrant with one leg, made his way across the river with crutches, trying to keep up with the caravan.
The migrant caravan successfully crossed the Suchiate River from Guatemala to Mexico. Having traveled across two countries in eight days, Joel, a Honduran migrant with one leg, made his way across the river with crutches, trying to keep up with the caravan.
Laura and Her Daughter, Chiapas, Mexico, 2018.
After a nearly 500-mile trek, Laura and her daughter, Erika, crossed to Mexico via the Suchiate River. Physically exhausted, Laura told me her story: “I’m escaping poverty and violence. I want to work, but there are no jobs.” In Honduras, Laura, age 19, lived in a neighborhood plagued by violence. Barrio 18 gang members controlled the police and terrorized the locals. Traveling without a stroller, Laura was forced to carry her baby for the duration of the migration. Out of desperation, Laura would give Erika sugar water to fill the toddler’s empty stomach. I was curious if she would stay in Mexico or travel to the US despite Trump’s strict laws. She told me that God will change the president’s heart. America is the goal. |
María Fernanda, Chiapas, Mexico, 2018.
María Fernanda, age 15, is dressed as a boy to protect herself during her journey. Just like when she was seven and living on the streets of Honduras, she did whatever was necessary to survive. As many as three out of five women and girls are raped during migrant journeys, according to Amnesty International. Currently, María Fernanda is back in Honduras. She was beaten by a Mexican police unit and nearly raped. Now home, she is recovering from appendix surgery and is unsure if she will ever make it to the border. |
Concención, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
Concención, a 45-year-old migrant from Honduras, lost his leg on the infamous La Bestia, otherwise known as the Train of Death. Used by US-bound migrants to traverse Mexico quickly, the trains transport hundreds of thousands of migrants annually. |
María y su hijo, Tapachula, Mexico, 2018.
María and her son fled Honduras to escape the M13 gang when she was unable to pay monthly extortion fees. Gang members robbed her house and attempted to recruit her son. |
Buses to the Border, Navojoa, Mexico, 2018.
Migrants from Honduras, El Salvador, and Guatemala, also known as the Northern Triangle, board a bus in Navojoa headed for Tijuana. The Mexican government stepped in to provide safe passage across the narco states of Sonora and Sinaloa after 100 migrants were kidnapped in the state of Puebla. |
Ana at the Benito Juárez Shelter, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
Ana rests against her tent inside Benito Juárez, a massive shelter in Tijuana, Mexico. Ana and her parents traveled from Honduras hoping to cross into the United States. They sought refuge at the shelter amidst the chaos at the border. |
Reenforcing the Wall, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
Workers line the top of the border wall with coils of barbed wire in Tijuana, Mexico.
Workers line the top of the border wall with coils of barbed wire in Tijuana, Mexico.
Seeking Asylum, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
Taken at the San Ysidro port of entry, this picture depicts a mother and her child within 500 feet of the US border in Tijuana on November 22, 2018. After traveling over 2,700 miles from Honduras, migrants had been placed by Mexican officials into a makeshift shelter in a converted open-air sports arena. They awoke hungry on Thanksgiving Day as rain worsened the unsanitary conditions at the already packed shelter. Migrants then walked to the border, attempting to present themselves as asylum seekers to the US immigration authorities. They were instead met with a human barrier formed by Mexican police blocking the pedestrian walkway. Municipal authorities in Tijuana have said they are unequipped to handle the growing number of refugees seeking asylum in both the United States and Mexico. The latest numbers are 6,219 migrants based in Tijuana with an additional 1,669 migrants trekking toward Baja California from the Mexican states of Jalisco, Nayarit, and Sinaloa. |
Carlos, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
I met Carlos in Tijuana, outside the Benito Juárez shelter. Gathered a few feet outside the shelter grounds, hundreds of local vigilantes were determined to fight off the caravan. They were held back by a wall of armed forces guarding the building. For their safety, migrants were advised to stay indoors; Carlos sat and slept outside, alone. Worried for his life, I asked about his family. He told me he was 15 and was alone. Thousands of children traveled alone during this journey. Once they reached the border, US authorities put them into child custody. They were faced with two options—either take refugee status in Mexico or return home. The last I saw Carlos, he was sitting by the food stand asking for chips |
The Princess, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
I met Diana, eight years old, on November 21 in Tijuana in the Benito Juárez shelter. This shelter is now closed because of health issues. Diana had been traveling with her family from Honduras. When they left home to join the caravan, they traveled with only a backpack and relied on donations of clothes and shoes. That day, a clothes donations arrived, and Diana managed to get the princess dress. “Lo agarré, hoy me toca a mi.” (I got it, today is my turn.) That day, despite all the filth and hunger I had witnessed, an eight-year-old was a princess. Out of all the children I photographed, Diana was the most secure and happy. |
La boda, Tijuana, Mexico, 2018.
Mar is a member of the migrant caravan from Honduras and participated in an LGBTQ wedding in Tijuana, Mexico. Many of the migrants, like Mar, were fleeing persecution for their sexuality. Gay marriage is illegal in Honduras, and LGBTQ people face some of the highest levels of violence in the world. Once they crossed the Mexican border, they finally had the opportunity to celebrate their love. Seven couples married. I was able to witness this moment alongside Mar, who caught the flowers. |
THE 2020 CARAVAN
In January 2020, fleeing violence and poor economic conditions, Hondurans organized a massive migrant caravan that traveled through Guatemala toward Mexico. After traveling for eight days, the caravan crossed the Suchiate River and attempted to enter Mexico. They were met by the recently established Guardia Nacional composed of former federal police and military and naval forces.
Mexican president Andrés Manuel López Obrador has historically called for safe passage for migrants. However, when US president Donald Trump threatened to impose tariffs, Mexico reversed its policy and deployed soldiers to keep Central American migrants from entering Mexico.
Migrants attempting to enter Mexico split into two major groups. The larger group crossed the Suchiate River and was teargassed by the Guardia Nacional. Forced to retreat, they waited by the river's edge for two days. Their second attempt to cross the river at 4:00 in the morning was a success, but hours later the Guardia Nacional surrounded them, put them on buses, and sent them back to Honduras.
The smaller group amassed in the border town of El Ceibo in Guatemala and was met by the head of foreign relations in Mexico. He welcomed migrants in groups of 10 to enter Mexico and seek asylum. Migrants were briefly kept in detention centers, and despite promises to the contrary by the head of foreign relations, they were deported back to Honduras without being given the opportunity to seek asylum.
Trump effectively barred asylum seekers from entering the US by threatening to impose tariffs and cut foreign aid to Central American countries. Trump’s political agenda denied people their fundamental human rights. For many asylum seekers, deportation results in a life of extortion and impoverishment, or even death. The full effect of Trump’s xenophobic policies toward immigrants and asylum seekers will no doubt be felt for generations to come.
In 2020, the political landscape of migration was shaped by the cruel politics of the Trump administration. With a new US president in office, asylum seekers have begun to cross this landscape again. What happens under a Biden administration remains to be seen—but one thing remains the same: the unforgiving land they must cross, one step at a time.
Mexican president Andrés Manuel López Obrador has historically called for safe passage for migrants. However, when US president Donald Trump threatened to impose tariffs, Mexico reversed its policy and deployed soldiers to keep Central American migrants from entering Mexico.
Migrants attempting to enter Mexico split into two major groups. The larger group crossed the Suchiate River and was teargassed by the Guardia Nacional. Forced to retreat, they waited by the river's edge for two days. Their second attempt to cross the river at 4:00 in the morning was a success, but hours later the Guardia Nacional surrounded them, put them on buses, and sent them back to Honduras.
The smaller group amassed in the border town of El Ceibo in Guatemala and was met by the head of foreign relations in Mexico. He welcomed migrants in groups of 10 to enter Mexico and seek asylum. Migrants were briefly kept in detention centers, and despite promises to the contrary by the head of foreign relations, they were deported back to Honduras without being given the opportunity to seek asylum.
Trump effectively barred asylum seekers from entering the US by threatening to impose tariffs and cut foreign aid to Central American countries. Trump’s political agenda denied people their fundamental human rights. For many asylum seekers, deportation results in a life of extortion and impoverishment, or even death. The full effect of Trump’s xenophobic policies toward immigrants and asylum seekers will no doubt be felt for generations to come.
In 2020, the political landscape of migration was shaped by the cruel politics of the Trump administration. With a new US president in office, asylum seekers have begun to cross this landscape again. What happens under a Biden administration remains to be seen—but one thing remains the same: the unforgiving land they must cross, one step at a time.
Families Stay Together, Honduras, 2020.
Migrant families squeeze onto vehicles to get a ride to the next town on their journey as they leave San Pedro Sula, Honduras. It’s a dangerous way to travel, as many migrants are reported to fall off these overpacked vehicles and suffer serious injuries. |
Barbed-Wire Fences, Guatemala, 2020.
After sleeping in a wasteland by the Guatemala-Mexico border, José, a six-year-old migrant child traveling with his father from Honduras, is waiting patiently at 3 am to resume his journey across the border into Mexico via the Suchiate River. Two days before, the caravan attempted to cross the river into Mexican territory. The Mexican National Guard, carrying semiautomatic rifles, mobilized and targeted the groups, detaining people where they could. There were pushes and struggles to prevent migrants from crossing illegally. Many migrants were apprehended at the river. Others, like José and his father, escaped. |
On My Way to America, Guatemala, 2020.
One member of the migrant caravan carries a self-made US flag to demonstrate his enthusiasm to become an American citizen. The conditions in his homeland are so dangerous that he is willing to pick up a new flag and start life in a country that he doesn’t know and that doesn’t want him. This dynamic produces a mixture of desperation and hope that won’t be dissuaded by tear gas and riot shields. |
Ashley, Guatemala-Mexico Border, 2020.
Ashley is a 27-year-old transwoman from Honduras. She left her country because her life was in danger. She received death threats and was bullied constantly for being a transwoman. Honduras has one of the highest murder rates in the world for members of the LGBTQ community. |
Almost There, Guatemala, 2020.
Chelita clings to her mother amidst the chaos of migrants waiting to be admitted into Mexico. After days of waiting at the border, Julio César Sánchez, the director general of special affairs for the Secretariat of Foreign Affairs of Mexico’s federal government, appeared as a government representative. He began allowing families to enter in small groups after making ambiguous promises that didn’t apply to all members of the caravan. He did not say what would happen to the families or where they would be taken. |
Ariana Elisabeth, Guatemala-Mexico Border, 2020.
Ariana Elisabeth is five months old and the youngest in the caravan. Her mother and father are escaping life-threatening gang activity in Honduras. Next to them is a guard from Guatemala who is protecting the border. |
Teargassed, Ciudad Hidalgo, Mexico, 2020.
Upon arriving at the Mexico-Guatemala border, roughly 800 migrants managed to cross onto Mexican soil and walk several miles to Frontera Hidalgo. It was here that hundreds of troops descended upon the caravan and forcibly herded them onto buses with the use of tear gas and riot shields. Children were caught in the chaos, suffering chemical burns and other serious injuries.
Upon arriving at the Mexico-Guatemala border, roughly 800 migrants managed to cross onto Mexican soil and walk several miles to Frontera Hidalgo. It was here that hundreds of troops descended upon the caravan and forcibly herded them onto buses with the use of tear gas and riot shields. Children were caught in the chaos, suffering chemical burns and other serious injuries.
Crossing the Suchiate River, Guatemala-Mexico Border, 2020.
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Crossing the Second Leg of the Suchiate River, 2020.
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Migrants from Honduras cross the Suchiate River as they pass from Guatemala to Mexico. Two days before, the Mexican government had teargassed a group of 500 migrants who arrived at the border and attempted to wade across the river into Mexico. Despite that event, the caravan persisted. Out of desperation, they tried crossing the river again. This time they succeeded and pushed forward several miles into Mexico.