In Guatemala, families mourn the migrants who never reached the USA

By Cheney Orr

YEPOCAPA/SAN JUAN LA LAGUNA, Guatemala (Reuters) - The journey of Rossanna and Widman began in the Guatemalan village of San Juan La Laguna, on the turquoise Lake Atitlan, where they met when he bought the tortillas she was selling for lunch.

It ended in the murky waters of the Rio Grande.

The couple drowned as they tried to wade across the notorious part of the river that links Piedras Negras, Mexico, with Eagle Pass, Texas, on Feb. 24, just two among the hundreds of people who lose their lives trying to cross into the U.S. every year.

In June, relatives collected Widman's casket from Guatemala City and carried it back along the winding highland roads to his hometown of Yepocapa in a white Mitsubishi van and then to his final resting place. Dozens of community members filed through the streets to mourn the popular 26-year-old, often called by his middle name Alex.

Rossanna, his 25-year-old partner, was buried in San Juan La Laguna, near her family.

In the Guatemalan highlands, the U.S. election campaigning about immigration and the salvos about who is doing what to secure the border are far away. For the people here, the story is simply that of two of their young who left to seek a better life and earn some money in "El Norte" and came back in boxes in the back of a van.

"She wanted to be a chef but we didn't have the money for her to study," said Francisca, Rossanna's mother. "That's why she wanted to go to the USA. She was going to work in a restaurant. I didn't want her to leave but she insisted that five years would give her and Alex the opportunity to raise money to build their own house and open a restaurant here."

Widman was the eldest of 10 children, his family told Reuters at his funeral. He was quiet, respectful and volunteered at the local church. After leaving school he began working in construction, taking pride in doing finish work and seeing each project come together.

CROSSED DESPITE CURRENT

Although the number of people apprehended by U.S. Border Patrol attempting to cross has declined in recent months, increased security on the U.S.-Mexican border in recent years has pushed migrants to take increasingly perilous routes, migration advocates say.

Grupo Beta, which assists migrants on the Mexican side of the border, says it rescued 450 people whose lives were in danger during the first seven months of 2024 and recovered 34 bodies.

Most migrants use "coyotes" - smugglers. Rossanna and Widman traveled with Alfredo, Rossanna's father, who paid coyotes to take them across Mexico.

In the early evening of Feb. 24, the three approached the river at Piedras Negras carrying their belongings, accompanied by a coyote and two other migrants.

Rossanna was the last of the group to enter the water, according to a Reuters photographer who was at the scene. At first she was nervous but excited, and Widman smiled as he encouraged her. It soon became clear the current was strong and the group lost their footing and returned to the Mexican side.

Then they decided to try again.

The mood was more somber. A U.S. National Guard officer arrived on the opposite bank and shouted at them in Spanish through a megaphone to return, telling them the river was dangerous.

It was too late.

Again, as they reached the center they lost their footing, became separated, and were dragged away by the current.

Alfredo and the two other migrants managed to climb out of the river onto the Mexican bank, while the coyote was pulled out almost dead and revived by a rescuer. By now, night was falling and first responders were on the scene. Another migrant, a woman from Colombia who attempted the crossing separately, was rescued after grabbing hold of a stick held by a police officer.

There was no sign of Widman or Rossanna.

Back home in Yepocapa, Widman's father Onofre was desperately trying to reach his son.

"Reply," he texted. "Tell me you're OK." "Please call me." His calls went unanswered.

Rossanna's body was found the next day on the Mexican side of the river. In a daze, Alfredo identified his daughter and then returned to his home in Guatemala. Her body was returned to her family several weeks later. Widman's was found on the U.S. side and returned four months later, after much bureaucratic wrangling.

Now Alfredo - who faces years of debt to work off the cost of the doomed trip to the U.S. - works on a farm in San Juan La Laguna. He has a 5-year-old son, Hageo, who he helps dress in the morning. Hageo will grow up to know his older sister only from her photo - smiling and dressed in colorful local clothing - that hangs in the family home.

In Widman's home, the frame that holds his photo on the mantelpiece is turned backwards, a frame around blank cardboard. His mother is not yet able to face it. It brings her too much pain.

(Reporting and photography by Cheney Orr; Additional reporting by Maria Alejandra Cardona and Andrea Godinez; Writing by Rosalba O'Brien; Editing by Daniel Wallis)