"You have to make your own luck!"

The distinct smell of a Latin meal emerged from the food truck parked in a lot inside Bargain Town, the sun was shining and different families were making their way toward the entrance of the flea market. I geared myself with confidence and a reporter’s tools: a camera, notepad, pen, and tape recorder then walked toward the back of the fruit market where the bakery was. Gaby, the same girl I spoke to last time recognized me and we began to talk. She was working with Lupe Santana, a 25 year old Mexican girl. They assured me today was a good day to take a stroll around Bargain town and meet other vendors. Lupe volunteered to give me a tour and introduce me to the different owners of the tiny shops.

As I waited for her to finish with some customers I sat on the picnic tables by the truck. I still noticed the piercing stares of some of the other people sitting at the tables; obviously, I was still an unidentified walking object. The burritos the others around me were eating looked delicious, and the smell was appetizing. In an attempt to break the ice, I asked the couple next to me what they were eating. Chimichangas, replied Enrique and Marisol Cruz. They were a Nicaraguan family with 4 children ages, 13, 11, 8, and 6 Marisol explained they arrived from Nicaragua just one year ago. It’s been tough for them, she said, and money has been scarce. Like the Cruz’s, many families of illegal status in Homestead, visit Bargain Town as the cheap alternative to spend a fun filled family day.

Marisol invited me to walk over to meet Enriquito, Barbara, Alejandra and Jose Gabriel, her children. They were riding a small carnival ride rollercoaster also in Bargain Town. Marisol continued to explain her situation at home. Back in Nicaragua, Enrique worked as a bricklayer barely making the sufficient amount of money to provide for his wife and four kids. Marisol was a stay at home mom and sold homemade baked goods to bring extra money to the home. Tired of living in a neighborhood where crime lurked at every street corner, the Cruz’s decided to leave it all behind and move to the United States.

Through a coyote, a guide who is paid to smuggle immigrants from country to country, Enrique, Marisol, and their children traveled on foot and bus across Central America until reaching Mexico. Marisol described the countless sleepless nights were they didn’t bathe or eat because it was the safest time to travel the longest distance. Sometimes the fear was so intense I would burst into tears imagining what would happen if we were caught, other times the kids cried because they were cold and didn’t want to walk under the rain. Enrique recalls arriving on bus to a remote dessert location where they then traveled through underground tunnels. For this family, crossing the Mexican border into the United States was the most difficult of them all. “Looking for a better future was important to us, but Enriquito, Barbara, Alejandra and Jose Gabriel are our priority,” said Marisol, “in order to continue the trip we all had to get across a rushing river, when I first saw it my heart sank.”

Enrique and Marisol explained for the kids it was more of an adventure to get across the river. After entering the United Sates, they lived in El Paso, Texas for two years until they saved enough to move to Homestead, Florida. It’s been a year since they left Texas and haven’t looked back since.
I spent the rest of my time there getting to know the family a little better. Luckily everything worked out, it was rush hour for Lupe all afternoon and she wasn’t able to tend to me. Over all it was a really interesting day, like Arnold Markowitz said “You have to make your own luck.”