Coyote Sam looks north through the colonias to the the Mexico/US border.  We are due to cross by dark tonight at $500 a head. People were killed last night on the border and Sam is edgy. To Latin Americans who have got this far north, the border is the final frontier.

Most migrants will not make it across the border. For lack of money they construct shacks from what scraps they can find on the highway. The colonias are lawless. There is no plumbing or electricity.

Rio de ojo is the name of the Colonia where Sam lives. It is one of the intensely poor shanty towns which stretch along the Mexican frontier before dropping into the Pacific Ocean at Tijuana. The hills on the border are the Nino ( baby) mountains. It is here that Sam and other coyotes sneak migrants through the US border fortifications. Once on the other side, a prearranged driver will meet them in the desert and take them in country. For now we sit in the shade of Sam’s shack, hearing his tales of life in TJ. Being a lawless place, there is no tax to pay, there are no government links. Here people make their own rules. If a man wants to kill somebody he can pay off the police with a small bribe if they come to investigate. Caught drink driving and a $6 bribe should bail you out. ‘You know how we do here’ says Sam. Nobody cares for these migrants. Through the haze of the Pacific sunset and clouds of dust thrown up on the road, the extent of the border situation becomes startlingly apparent as mile upon mile of shanty towns drift by in front of my eyes.