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In this photo of November 2, 2018, Alexa Amaya, a Honduran transgender, who is part of a group of about 50 LGBTQ migrants traveling with the caravan of migrants in the hope of reaching the US border, uses a compact to apply makeup to the back of a vehicle. flatbed truck in Sayula, Mexico. "I know it will be hard to win the asylum," said 24-year-old Alexa, a native of Copan, Honduras, "but we have to give it a go." (AP Photo / Rodrigo Abd) The Associated Press
By SONIA PEREZ D., Associated press
MATIAS ROMERO, Mexico (AP) – Dozens of transgender and homosexual women in the caravan crossing Mexico hoping to seek asylum in the United States have come together to protect themselves – and not by the 39, uncertainty of a journey strewn with dangers by gangs prey on migrants, but their traveling companions.
Fleeing violence and discrimination at home because of their gender identity or sexual orientation, these LGBTQ migrants discovered that the journey to the North was equally threatening in the face of catacalls and even physical violence.
"Sweet little thing!" & # 39; & # 39; Baby, where are you going? & # 39; & # 39; & # 39; How much do you charge? "These well-known jeers are thrown to them as they make their way through the caravan of several thousand people.
Loly Mendez, a 28-year-old woman who began her transition to a woman from her native Salvador, knows all too well the dangers her transgender migrant comrades faced at home: her best friend, also a transgender woman, was murdered for doing the same. .
Then Loly herself began to receive threats – "that if my breasts get bigger, they'll cut them off," she said. They were always delivered anonymously, which made her even more fearful and eventually drove her to flee.
"In my country, there is violence, a lack of work and opportunities," said Loly, who, like many transgender women in the group, preferred to use only her first name. "In the caravan, there is also violence – against the LGBTQ community."
Loly has joined Tapachula's caravan in southern Mexico, and hopes to work in the United States and save money to start a beauty business, perhaps in Los Angeles or New York. It's something she's been planning for a long time, up to the company's logo, but she's never had the money.
"I'm going to a country where I know I will make my dreams come true," Loly said hopefully.
Reports are common in most Central American countries where LGBTQ persons have been murdered, assaulted and discriminated against because of their gender identity or sexual orientation.
However, getting American asylum is difficult, even with the evidence that someone has been a victim of transgender persecution, said Lynly Egyes, general counsel at Transgender Law Center in Oakland, Calif. .
It often takes days or weeks for transgender immigrants to be heard by an asylum officer. If they are allowed to move forward in the process, many are traumatized and have trouble telling their stories, said Egyes. They are also much less likely to get asylum without a lawyer.
"It's a horrible process, and not everyone can do it," she said.
Many migrants said they joined the caravan because it offered security of numbers. About 50 LGBTQ migrants traveling together, most aged between 20 and 20 but some between the ages of 17 and 60, also claim to be grouped together to ensure their safety – a sort of caravan in the caravan.
In their brightly colored clothing and makeup, the group was verbally harassed, especially by men, and was robbed and assaulted. One day recently, while they were walking on the highway leading to Isla, in the state of Veracruz, Mexico, on the Gulf Coast of Mexico, a group of migrants went on board. A truck and filled them with water, oranges, peels and other wastes.
Fearing to be assaulted more violently or sexually, they stick to each other 24 hours a day, walk and sleep in groups and even use the mutual surveillance system to go to the bathroom.
In Matias Romero, in the state of Oaxaca, in southern Mexico, rather than sleep outside, they took over an abandoned hotel, damaged by the deadly earthquake of last year. Dirty, windowless and without electricity or running water, it was still a place where you had to have a roof and get safe. They bathed in the light of a little lantern, got dressed and put on make-up like dozens of men outside.
Each night, "the girls," as they call themselves, run through stacks of donated clothes to try to be as sharp as possible. And they face a dilemma: where to dress and relieve themselves?
"We have problems going to the bathroom," said Nakai Fleet, a transgender woman and activist. "We swim in men, sometimes in women, but it is difficult, there is none for us."
Fleet accompanied the migrants to provide support and information on asylum applications.
The United States "should take into account their condition of vulnerability and violence," she said.
However, the decision taken this year by Attorney General Jeff Sessions to deny asylum to victims of domestic violence and gangs could also have a negative impact on transgender women and men, as many of them are victims of gang violence and are targeted to be transgender.
"I know it will be hard to win asylum," said Alexa Amaya, a 24-year-old Honduran, "but we have to give it a go."
The caravan has traveled more than 1,000 miles (more than 2,000 km) during the month since the departure of its first participants from San Pedro Sula, Honduras. Crossing the highlands of central Mexico, it is about the same distance from its target in Tijuana, on the San Diego border. We do not know how many will do it. Earlier this year, a similar caravan hit about 200 people who reached the US border.
Much of the hike has been done on foot, but hitch rides in vans, minibuses and tractor-trailers have been crucial lately, especially on days when they travel 100 miles or more. For the LGBTQ group, it was more difficult to find these rides.
"A taxi driver fired us from his car," said Lady Perez, a 23-year-old Honduran, adding that sometimes truck drivers who often carry migrants for a small fee have doubled or tripled the price of their group.
Lady began identifying herself as transgender at the age of 5 and her father eventually disavowed her. She was subjected to insults and beatings, her boyfriend was killed and she was warned to leave Honduras.
"In our country, the rights of the LGBTQ community are not respected and antisocial groups benefit," said Lady.
Walking on the highway in black miniskirt, lipstick and black eyeliner, she said that many men in the caravan were harassing her and others.
"They have been denigrating us, supposedly, you are emigrating from your country because of violence, discrimination, homophobia, and it turns out that in the same caravan you are confronted with type of violence, "she said.
In the face of almost constant harassment, the march organizers and human rights defenders sought to ensure the safety of the group in the form of two men in green jackets who travel with them and try to counter any attack.
If verbal harassment does not cross the line, "we feel protected," said Loly. "If someone crosses the border, human rights are with us to protect us."
Journalist Astrid Galvan from Phoenix to Phoenix contributed to this article.
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