The Darien Gap: The deadly jungle trek where families risk their lives to reach America | World News

We arrived at the Las Tecas camp by motorbike, I could see it in the distance in the jungle, a clearing surrounded by a series of wooden frames, covered with giant tarps.

Below, there are more than a hundred colorful backpack-style pop-up tents and dozens of hammocks strung from wooden poles.

As we approached, we saw hundreds of people around chatting, playing dominoes or sitting outside in what I can only describe as an internet cafe in the woods.

This is northern Colombia. We are in the middle of nowhere and have electricity provided by a noisy hillside generator, makeshift shops, cafes, running water, clean toilets and showers – though they charge a dollar for almost everything, and some here can’t afford that.

Las Tecas is an organized rundown town with some add-ons.

I have been to more refugee camps, transit camps and migration centers than I can count, but the extent of this organization amazes me.

The reason is money. The camp is run by a large smuggling network, and its clients are northern migrants to the United States.

In front of them was a jungle filled with venomous snakes, spiders, insects, criminal gangs, terrorist groups and a 65-mile trek through rivers and mountains.

It is the Darien Gap – the gateway to Panama from Colombia, and the gateway to the United States of America.

For the migrants, their last night in this camp was their last safe night for a while.

If Everest has a base camp, then the void has Las Tecas.

We hooked up in hammocks before nightfall and wandered among the migrants, explaining that we were joining them on part of their journey.

They come from all over the world – Nepalese, African, Asian, Haitian, but mostly South American.

They were very friendly and seemed both excited and nervous. What struck us all was the sheer number of families, and the rather unusual number of young children.

I’ve been reading about the Darien Gap for years, and the only logical conclusion anyone can reach is that it’s too dangerous to pass as an adult, let alone as a child.

But this influx of migrants trying to cross is equally remarkable.

In the first nine months of this year, 150,000 people did just that. More than 20,000 of them are children. A decade ago, only nearly 200 migrants tried it.

Smugglers facilitate this daily movement and are making a lot of money.

Migrants are desperate, and one can only imagine how horrible their life back home is when faced with a nightmare that lasts at least five days in the sweltering heat and humidity. cover.

To be honest, I was a bit scared, and I only managed to do a small part of the trip.

At 4 a.m. the next morning the camp woke up, broke down the tent and packed up the things they brought with them.

Parents prepare their children, dress them, feed them breakfast, put them in their tiny backpacks, and slip on their colorful wellington boots.

A baby was bitten by an insect during the night. The little girl was covered in bites and her mother was scratching her back to try to soothe the itch.

They haven’t even entered the forest yet.

At first, they gathered to hear instructions from a man speaking over loudspeakers.

Then a gate opened, and they flooded through.

One of their first obstacles was a river, and within minutes of their departure, everyone was wet.

Sliding on rocks under the water, young children grabbed their parents, parents grabbed their children, clinging to their backs and shoulders to try to keep them dry.

But people kept moving.

We crossed rivers to follow the migrants as they made their way along the valley floor to higher ground. They take at least a day.

Contrary to my usual opinion, we, like many people here, were asked by our guide to wear wellington boots.

The reason is that if you step on a snake, it will bite back and if you think about it, it’s calf level.

Out here, you won’t live more than 30 minutes after a really nasty snake bite, so we opted for a warm-up.

The point is we’re wading through rivers, so every 10 minutes you’re carrying two extra water boots – and trust me they’re heavy.

I was shown how to lean against a tree and bend my knees toward my back to empty the water. Simple, but annoying, although I now accept that a mutual relationship can really save a person’s life.

Michael Zambrano from Venezuela holds his sleeping two-year-old son Lucien in a baby bassinet on his chest and a heavy bag on his back.

His four-year-old son Jordan is always by his parents’ side. Mother – Mariangela – is 7 months pregnant. They are expecting a girl and have named her Ana.

This family has been walking for months.

They left Venezuela seven years ago, lived in Chile for a while, then went to Colombia, where Michael worked as a street performer, earning enough to continue his journey north.

The family is heading towards the back of the group.

Michael told me: “We have to save our energy and slow down.

“I have this backpack plus my kid, so it’s harder, but this kid is four years old, so he can at least walk,” he continued, and pointed toward Jordan.

Every so often, another Venezuelan migrant, Eduardo, whom the family met on the trail help them, lift the boy to his shoulders in deeper waters.

Along the route were wooden signs nailed to the tree trunks urging them to go up.

One wrote ‘Don’t be afraid’, another wrote ‘Difficulty disappears when you face it bravely’.

But the jungle is full of snakes, spiders and deadly insects. It was scorching hot and humid.

And very quickly, the migrants began to thin, the youngest and strongest leaving behind the weakest.

The last of the group was a woman who had sprained her ankle, it happened within the first hour.

Now she is using a cane for support. Occasionally her husband would stop her and take off her boots to drain the water and check for swelling. And then they continue.

I can’t imagine she would do it. But she continued.

They knew they had to climb to the top of at least one huge mountain, but the whole journey was arduous.

Rivers can rise if it rains heavily, and that can wash people to their deaths, especially if they can’t swim, which many cannot.

The first big test our group encountered, after the river, was a high hill made entirely of mud and rocks.

It’s steep and it’s like clay. Migrants must overcome this to continue their journey.

Simple wooden steps have been dug deep into the mud, with ropes to prevent people from falling into the ravine.

Without these steps, their commute would take hours.

My organs sank to the top in the mud as I lifted myself up. At the top was a narrow slit dug in the middle of the mud-covered rock that only one person could pass through at a time.

I make it through before descending the muddy stairs, sliding, sliding and holding onto the rope for dear life.

All I’m thinking is, if I’m having a hard time, how can someone bring everything they own plus their kids can even remotely manage this?

And still they trudged through the deep mud under their feet.

Some men grumbled as they walked up and down the steep embankment, the women and children looking terrified.

We meet Carlos Chinchin washing his boots and hands in river water after crossing a muddy hill.

His toddler Carlito was tied behind his back, wearing a Spider-Man sun hat on his head.

Carlos is from Ecuador. Their wife and second child have given birth and are in the United States.

I asked them where they were in the US, he said he didn’t know.

“They just told me they were in a shelter…” he replied.

It must have been tough carrying a small child through the jungle, but Carlos said he was driven by his desire to meet his wife Catherine, and his desire to meet his son’s younger brother Josue.

When he hit the road again, he sang to Carlito, calming him down and comforting the boy who couldn’t tell what was going on.

A few hours later, we met Michael again. This time he looked tired – the family was just floating in the mud.

He said it was difficult but he had faith.

“There is nothing stronger than God, He will give us the strength to overcome all the mud before our eyes.”

That’s a huge amount of confidence since the US border is now closed to Venezuelans.

The recent change in border policy means that many Venezuelans are now stuck in countries along the migration route, not knowing where to go.

Michael was one of them, but they were determined to keep going. He said he thought Americans would understand his plight and have mercy.

But they continued. This is a very large movement of people and is only expected to increase.

And it’s hard to know how it will stop.

Credit:
Dominique Van Heerden, Gustavo Aleman and Carlos Villalon, producers
Richie Mockler, camera operator