Daily Life in the Transnational Migrant Community of San Agustín, Oaxaca, and Poughkeepsie, New York

Abstract

Ten young men hold a simple white casket in place in the back of a red van with New York license plates. They accompany the casket through town to the cemetery in San Agustín, Mexico. They are the only male migrants remaining after the Christmas holiday that brought so many back to spend a few weeks with families before returning to work in el norte. While they mourn Mauricio's death with his family in San Agustín, others mourn with Mauricio's newly arrived little brother in Poughkeepsie. Mauricio died not in the dangerous space of el norte but rather in the safe, taken-for-granted space of the village. He bought the van in the U.S. and proudly drove these cousins and friends home. They had all stayed in the village longer than usual so that Mauricio could propose to his girlfriend. Mauricio planned to then return north for two years to save money for his wedding. Now people march behind the van honoring the premature death of a hard-working eighteen-year-old migrant. By the standards of the villagers, he was an exemplary success, responsible both to family and community, and so most of the village attends the procession. The villagers identify with the tragedy because Mauricio's death represents the realization of their fears. Villagers pray that absent husbands, sons, cousins, and boyfriends will survive and prosper to return soon to their families. Zapotec tradition holds that the death of a child must be a happy event in order to replace the happiness missed in life. On this occasion, however, the villagers find little to celebrate in the death of a friend, the disappearance of youth, and the fears of absence.