Tecate at night.

I have successfully crossed through the most illegally trafficked piece of real estate in San Diego County. Less than a mile south of where I have stopped to write, is the US-Mexico border. There was one point where I could see the daunting line, little more than a chain-linked fence.

1 in every 10 vehicles here is a US Border Patrol, and as I am walking during a good portion of the night, the border patrol has stopped me to the point where we now have good rapport.

2 AM. Speaking with an officer just a few minutes ago, I was told that this strip, the last 1-2 miles was where most of the crossings took place. Though made to sound dangerous, he conceded that I am fairly safe, the cars on this single lane road pose far more threat than undocumented immigrants and illegal drug runners.

Still interesting to note are the constant the back stories of my mind…the don’t go there, don’t do that, this is a dangerous area, the world is flat. I am conscious that I have made a decision to walk far out of my way, to Tuscon, to avoid what a border that i will inevitibly have to cross. I am not only nervous about robbery, kidnappings, or worse, I am worried too about the long stretches of Sonoran desert, which I would have to cross on either side of the divide. I am choosing the safety of walking through the longest distance of desert in the United States. I have no idea how I will fare. 

It is here, with the border  close, my mind aware that we are more the victims of our fears than what people do to us. And still, I choose a different route.
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