App boosting legal US entry for migrants facing possible termination

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    TIJUANA, Mexico — A nurse who escaped Cuba during the country’s largest exodus in over sixty years found herself needing temporary accommodation in Mexico while awaiting legal entry into the U.S. through a government app. At the same time, a long-time resident of Tijuana named Martha Rosales was in urgent need of medical assistance after being severely injured in a dog attack that left her legs with deep wounds.

    Karla Figueredo, the nurse, was introduced to Rosales through a mutual friend. During her three-day stay in October 2023, Figueredo provided care for Rosales’ injuries while waiting for her appointment at the border secured via the CBP One app. Before heading to the U.S., Figueredo received permission from Rosales to share her contact details with other migrants in need of help.

    Word about Rosales’ willingness to assist migrants quickly spread, and she transformed her home into a temporary haven, joining a network of at least thirty-five shelters in Tijuana to accommodate those using the CBP One app. “I promised God that if my feet weren’t amputated, I would assist every Cuban I could,” explained the 45-year-old Rosales, who was in a wheelchair due to her injuries until Figueredo treated her wounds.

    The CBP One program has allowed nearly a million people to enter the U.S. with two-year work permits, although its future is uncertain with the potential change in administration. Since the inception of CBP One under the Trump administration, Figueredo has now settled in the Houston area, working as a medical assistant while maintaining contact with Rosales, who left her job as a bank cleaner to focus solely on managing her makeshift shelter. Migrants staying with Rosales affectionately call her “Tía Martha” (Aunt Martha) as she regularly prepares meals, organizes celebrations, and drives them to their scheduled CBP One appointments.

    Supporters of the program argue that it has brought improved order to the border and decreased illegal crossings. However, its critics contend that it favors a lottery-like system over individuals who have long resided in the U.S. illegally while contributing taxes or those who have awaited visa approval for years.

    Dayron Garcia, a physician from Cuba, learned about Rosales through a family member and subsequently applied to migrate with his wife and children, intending to settle in Houston with friends. Garcia expressed gratitude, stating that Rosales’ home “feels like family,” adding that CBP One has been a crucial lifeline for many. “It’s a guarantee,” said the 40-year-old doctor. “You enter with the proper documentation and legal status.”

    Initially launched in the final months of Trump’s presidency for customs purposes, CBP One underwent modifications when the Biden administration expanded its use to assist migrants, particularly in the wake of a previous non-transparent asylum ban due to the pandemic. This app has found considerable popularity among migrants from Cuba, Venezuela, Haiti, and Mexico, aided by community advocates promoting their accessibility.

    Illegal crossings by Cuban migrants significantly decreased since implementing CBP One, plummeting from a peak of nearly 35,000 in April 2022 to just 97 by September. However, the number of people seeking appointments far exceeds availability, with around 280,000 individuals vying for 1,450 slots each day as of late last year. Successful applicants must present themselves at a designated border crossing within three weeks.

    Migrant shelters in Tijuana primarily cater to individuals pursuing these online appointment slots. Rosales’ residence is situated in a struggling neighborhood, where residents are constantly on guard against flash floods. Inside, migrants find opportunities to socialize, play games, complete household chores, and tend to their children. Those without appointments carefully monitor their phones, seeking to snatch up available slots at various U.S. border crossings, a task comparable to vying for concert tickets.

    Rosales dedicates her nights to this effort. A helper drives her to the airport in an SUV, purchased with her retirement savings. After midnight, she transports guests to Tijuana’s main border crossing for their early morning appointments at 5 a.m., engaging them in conversation, snapping farewell photos, and offering hugs as they depart.

    Her day doesn’t end there. By 3 a.m., she is at a local television station, working a four-hour shift cleaning and running errands for journalists who keep her informed about immigration issues and developments in the city. She continually checks her phone for messages from migrants in need of shelter who have heard about her through various social media outlets or word of mouth. Organizing her contacts, she labels them according to party size and appointment dates: “3 on the 16th,” “6 on the 17th.”

    Rosales, one of thirteen siblings, had to drop out of school in the third grade. Her literacy skills are basic, learned primarily through reading the Bible, which has left her able to decipher messages with more reliance on voice communication and phone calls.

    Enrique Lucero, who previously directed migrant affairs in Tijuana, assisted Rosales as she sought guidance at City Hall. He helped her establish a legitimate organization for raising funds and made himself available for emergencies, such as when a woman missed her CBP One appointment due to giving birth. Lucero liaised with CBP to ensure the mother and child gained entry into the U.S.

    “She genuinely cares for them. She worries for their well-being and sheds tears for their struggles,” Lucero commented.

    The surge in Cuban migration can be traced back to increased border arrests during the COVID-19 pandemic and an uptick in anti-government protests in 2021. Following policy alterations in Nicaragua that allowed easier passage for Cubans flying from Havana, many avoided the hazardous trek through the Darien Gap, a perilous region in Colombia and Panama. By spring 2022, Cubans became the second-largest nationality apprehended after Mexicans.

    “CBP One arrived like a miracle,” stated Yoandis Delgado, who traveled to Nicaragua in 2023, paid a smuggler for traversing southern Mexico, and faced numerous robberies by local authorities. “CBP One offered hope and a sense of possibility.”

    Delgado, a former cook in Cuba, emphasized that Rosales’ home provided a sense of safety from potential predators, largely absent from hotels or other shelters. “She lives in similar struggles as we do, no better,” he remarked after enjoying a pancake breakfast. “She shares in our pain and sorrow from all we have endured to reach this point.”

    The future of CBP One is becoming increasingly uncertain, particularly as President Biden’s administration views it as an essential progress in creating secure avenues for migration while curbing illegal crossings. However, many migrants in Mexico are filled with trepidation over the prospect of Trump terminating the app. Individuals already in the U.S. are also anxious about the status of their parole, which lasts only for two years.

    While the Trump transition team has yet to respond to questions about the fate of CBP One, supporters argue it undermines existing immigration norms and incentivizes illegal entry. A proposed bill, introduced in 2023 but ultimately stalled in the Senate, aimed to eliminate the use of this app in permitting migrants.

    Figueredo, the nurse who provided life-saving care to Rosales, intends to obtain a green card under a 1966 law applicable to Cubans. She shares updates about her hectic work life and asks about Rosales’ well-being in her correspondence. “I hope you’re doing well and happy,” she added in a recent letter.