By Judith Fein

 Last night, I was at my friend Marina’s wedding. I met her about eight years ago, when she was cleaning the gym to which I belonged. We exchanged a brief “hola” or hello when she said she was from Guatemala. I stumbled through the obstacle course of Spanish verbs and tenses and told her that I was happy to meet her and looked forward to seeing her again at the gym.  

Over the next few months, she told me that she had a daughter named Esperanza, who was learning English in school. And over the next four years, I learned about her beloved Carlos, who worked for a flooring company and she showed me photos of her newborn baby Marco.  

Then Marina started inviting me and my husband to her house for events. Sometimes it was a birthday party, and other times a holiday. Most of the guests were from Guatemala, Honduras, and Mexico, but there were a few Spanish stumblers like myself who also met Marina at the gym.

Marina did the cooking in huge pots, and she served ultra-plump tamales bursting with rice, chicken, pork, or vegetables. She also served a punch with macerated fruits. The atmosphere was always friendly, and sometimes we talked with other immigrants about how they came to the USA and how they did house cleaning and yard work to support themselves, even if they had other skills for which they couldn’t find employment.  

Marina often told me about her immigration status, which enabled her to stay here legally as long as she renewed her permit every year. And Carlos was excited because he decided he was going to open his own flooring business. He showed me photos of his work with wood, tile, and brick floors. He was understandably proud because the floors looked gleaming and impeccable.

And then a dark cloud descended over their life. The administration in Washington D.C. was decidedly anti-immigrant, and the family’s life became hell. Marina’s permission to stay was refused, and she was threatened with deportation. It was not a matter of “if” but when she would be sent back to a country where she had experienced abuse, violence, and grinding poverty and had no support. The case was closed, and Marina despaired. She no longer showed me photos of her kids and their successes. She was on the verge of tears as she showed me bills from lawyers and paperwork that showed how hopeless her case was.

Several women at the gym began helping Marina with breathtaking generosity. They took out loans and stretched their budgets to assist the struggling family. Along with a few other people, I helped when I could. The gym closed because of the pandemic, and the family had very meager means.

Miraculously, and after Marina endured several excruciating years of fearing deportation, a young immigration lawyer was able to reverse the government’s decision and Marina is now fully legal and on a path to residency. Carlos’s business is booming and the duo was finally able to get married.  Yesterday was the big event. There was major support from the church Marina and Carlos belong to.

Several of us wept when Marina, in her elegant wedding dress, walked down the improvised outdoor aisle into a small community center. Just before she entered the building, she saw my husband and asked how everything was going for us.  I was stunned that she reached out to others during the key moment of one of the most important days of her life.

After the ceremony, a delicious Guatemalan meal was served, and we all raved about the rich, complex pepian sauce that bathed the chicken. We spoke to the young Guatemalan chef who worked in restaurants in our town and just opened his own food truck three months ago. He said business is great and he’s added dishes from Italy and other countries for people who are shy about ordering Guatemalan food. 

The young immigration lawyer and her handsome Mexican husband sat across from me at a long table. I asked if he is a lawyer too, and he said that he works in maintenance. As we spoke, he explained that he is also studying to get an associate degree in electrical engineering and has been accepted to transfer to a fine university. I marveled at the fact that he was able to juggle being a full-time student in a demanding program and also work full-time in maintenance. I asked what he does for fun in his free time and he laughed and said, “Free time? I don’t have any.”

I feel so honored to know immigrants and refugees who have, through hard work, patience, and community support, enriched the fabric of our society and our lives. Have you spoken to any immigrants or refugees lately? If not, be prepared to have your heart opened by the contact.   

Judith Fein is an award-winning travel and culture journalist and author who has contributed to more than 130 international publications. She is the Executive Editor of YourLifeisaTrip.com. Her website is GlobalAdventure.us