Seeking Refugee in Mexico City

Casa de los Amigos is a Quaker guesthouse and MCC partner, located in the heart of Mexico City. Through its programs, community space, and social and cultural activities, the Casa promotes peace with justice, fosters understanding between groups and individuals, and supports the human dignity of every person. The Casa shared this story with us as part of our ongoing series on migration.

Right now the number of forcibly displaced people worldwide is 59.5 million. According to the UN, “During the year, conflict and persecution forced an average of 42,500 persons per day to leave their homes and seek protection elsewhere, either within the borders of their countries or in other countries.”

At Casa de los Amigos, we witness a small piece of this international crisis every day. We host up to six migrants and refugees for a few months at a time who cannot return home due to their political work, religion, gender, poverty, and actual or threatened violence. They come to Mexico City seeking a new home – or at least a safe place to rest and recuperate on the way to another destination.

Gérard is one of the 59.5 million who cannot go home. He arrived at the Casa thanks to support from a partner organization that provides social services to asylum-seekers. A man of medium stature and about 40 years old, he arrived tired and full of sadness.

He told us in French about the family he had left behind in the Democratic Republic of Congo: a wife and two children. He shared that he left because he was trying to fight for change, and the people in charge didn’t want his voice heard. Now in Mexico, he expressed interest in finding a way to help the situation back home, in the DRC. He talked of maybe having to go back, knowing full well that his life there was at risk.

During his three months at the Casa, Gérard spent every morning at the breakfast table, breaking bread with travelers and guests from around the world. He became close with the other migrants staying at the Casa too. After breakfast, he would go upstairs to attend the Casa’s free, daily Spanish classes for migrants and refugees. He was very dedicated, understanding the importance of language learning for his success.

Gérard told us: “I live in Mexico now and there’s no life without communication. It’s impossible without the language. Language is also important to get to know the culture and economically. Why? I don’t have work because I don’t know the language well enough yet…when I arrived I didn’t know anyone. I couldn’t ask anything.”

View of Mexico City from a monument close to the Casa. Anna Vogt

The Casa and our network of organizations help provide basic support, which leads to local integration. During Gérard’s time at the Casa, we shared many celebrations and community dinners. He received psychological support and attended educational workshops. Yet there are so many barriers to success for a refugee in any part of the world. A restful night or any type of security is rare. While survival can be achieved by getting asylum status, really living is a much longer, more elusive process.

Toward the end of his time at the Casa, he shared with us, speaking in Spanish: “…I arrived here without preparation and, psychologically, that’s a big problem. To live without my friends, without my family, without the language is complicated…The Casa is a community, it’s my family. Without a house like this house I wouldn’t know how to go in my life.”

After successfully finishing the Casa’s Spanish classes and receiving a scholarship, Gérard started attending the National University’s intensive classes. He found a place to live. Now Gérard works many hours in a restaurant and teaches some French classes. Unfortunately, his professional skills are still not recognized because of the language barrier, xenophobia, and discrimination.

A sign in the Casa expressing their Quaker philosophy.

Although the number of asylum seekers in Mexico is growing, up to 3, 432 last year, being a refugee is still a rare thing in Mexico City. Officials don’t recognize the migration documents, employers are suspicious of hiring someone with a different migratory status, and the majority of the population has never had a conversation with someone from another country.

These facts create serious barriers toward local integration. Gérard and his peers look forward to a time when they can walk freely in the streets, support themselves, reunite with their families, or enjoy a Sunday knowing that he and everyone in his family are all right.

This is our hope and vision as a community of hospitality: to open our arms and help create a world where people don’t merely survive, but a world where people can be whole and truly live.