Down in the Dumps Over Spring Break
The words “Spring Break” conjure up images of warm days on the beach, sunburns, parties. While most probably do not celebrate like this, those on break, both students and teachers, often take down time away from the hectic pace of school. A short break to relax, unwind, rejuvenate for the final few weeks or months of classes.
For some there is no spring break.
Yesterday, as I often do on Saturdays, I went across the border to a small community located off Highway 2, about half way between Tijuana and Tecate, Mexico.
Just past the train tracks that divide this squatter community, I turned right off of the paved road. Two girls playing on the dirt road immediately recognize me. Leticia and Tatiana accompanied me to the house of Patricia Espinoza. Everyone knows Pati as "the one with green eyes" – an anomaly in this community.
Pati is one of several women in the community that work at the dump: the garbage repository for Tijuana, Mexico. She and her 17-year-old son, along with others in the community, walk about a mile to the main highway. There they catch a bus that takes them the additional seven miles to the Relleno Sanitario Alicia – The Alicia Landfill.
Garbage trucks arrive at the Tijuana municipal landfill
Yesterday, the first day of my spring break, I went to the landfill with Pati to see where so many. Unless you have ever been to an active garbage dump, you cannot imagine the assault on the senses.
Worker waiting for the bulldozer to move garbage
The smell is the first thing you notice in the acres of squalor. It is worse than the filthiest garbage can that has been sitting in the hot sun for days. Waves of stench blew passed, burning my nostrils with a smell that cannot accurately be described. Often times me eyes watered from the overpowering odor. Fortunately it was a windy, cool day. That is probably the only thing that allowed me to stay at the dump as long as I did.
Collecting and sorting recyclable items
As we walked from the edge towards the middle of the garbage heap, the piles of garbage appeared to be moving. These are the pepenadores, scavengers, who work in the dump. Juanito, one of Pati’s colleagues from the dump, said that there were only about 30 percent of the normal workers here today. Usually there are hundreds of people, but because it was Saturday, there are fewer trucks dumping their loads and fewer workers.
After visiting with several of her friends and shooting some video and photos, we got back in my car and headed back to “the tracks” where Pati and her family live.
“It’s easier going to work,” she explained to me, “I don’t have anything to carry. It’s much harder going home. I have backpacks, shoes, clothes. I take home a lot of things.” Some she uses for her family, other things she sells.
“Some people understand that there are those who work in the dump. They put used clothes in a bag and tie it up. They put that bag inside another so the garbage won’t ruin the clothes. Some of the clothes are actually clean.”
She also told me she often smuggles metal, such as copper and aluminum, home with her. She can sell it for much more outside of the dump.
Four days a week, including spring break weeks, she carries her work shoes and wears an extra layer of clothes as she begins her work day at 6:30 am. For hours they sort through the recently dumped refuge to gather plastics of all kinds. When they fill their large tarps, they haul them to the side of the landfill to sort the bottles.
They carry their bags, which can weigh 60 to 80 kilos (130 to 180 pounds), about 300 yards to the recycler who weighs and pays cash for their goods.
On a good day she earns 300 pesos, about $24. After subtracting money to pay for the bus ride to and from the landfill, water and food, she ends up taking home 200 pesos, roughly $16 for a 13.5-hour workday.
Pati (left) and daughter Jackie
It is a hard way to make a living, but Pati has an amazingly optimistic outlook. She told me it is what she needs to do to help her kids. Her oldest son did not finish high school, but is attending a trade school where he is learn computation and English. When he turns 18 he plans to join the military. Jacquelin, her 14-year-old daughter, also attends the trade school. She attends classes in middle school Monday through Friday, where she is a straight A student and attends the same computer and English classes on Saturday.
Pati has worked there for several years. “I’m not embarrassed to work there,” she tells me. “I do what I need to do.”
Pati knows what it takes to break free from poverty. She is doing all she can to
make a difference.
