Berkley Center

On my way to Quito, I had a long layover in Panama City and began talking to an Ecuadorian woman who was also waiting at the terminal. Our conversation quickly shifted from small talk to politics. "There are just so many Venezuelans in Ecuador these days,” she told me in Spanish. “They are a caravan: in the streets, at bus stations, in parks. They are robbing people and bringing their problems. It’s terrible. That is why Trump has been talking so much about drug traffickers.” A few women sitting nearby shook their heads in agreement.

Venezuela is undergoing an economic crisis leaving many without basic necessities. In January 2019, the leader of the Venezuelan legislature, Juan Guaidó, declared himself interim president just two weeks after Nicolas Maduro was sworn in as president. The United States has threatened to intervene, although critics cite the many examples of American intervention in other Latin American countries gone awry. Some analysts are even pointing to the possibility of a civil war. Due to the difficult economic and political realities in Venezuela,  three million Venezuelans have migrated out of the country since 2015. At least 220,000 individuals have fled to Ecuador.

Since arriving in Quito, daily news about Venezuela feels as ever-present as the surrounding Andes mountains. One of my first days in the city my host mom asked me, “Did you see how many Venezuelans today were outside the car this morning asking for money?” Nearly every day she turns on the television and watches the latest developments.

My professors, host family members, peers, and even Uber drivers all have different perceptions of Venezuelan migrants. Some are empathetic towards the Venezuelans' plight, while others say that Ecuador does not have enough resources to accommodate newcomers. Others think that Venezuelans should return to their country and fight for a better future. Citing unemployment, some individuals characterize Venezuelan migrants as "lazy." Just like the United States, Ecuador is struggling with a national conversation about identity, patriotism, and the country’s willingness to welcome migrants.

When the words “caravan” or “drug traffickers” arise in conversation about migrants, it is hard to ignore similar rhetoric in the United States. When I first arrived in Quito, I was confused about how Ecuadorians could criticize President Trump for excluding many Latin Americans from entering the United States but simultaneously wish to to exclude Venezuelans from their own country. I had to remind myself that our president's exclusionary, xenophobic language is not unique. 

When I think about my friends studying abroad in Europe right now, I wonder: Why are these American students and European Union citizens allowed to enjoy freedom of movement within Europe? For nations within the Schengen Area there are no internal border controls, visas, or passports despite the large variety of languages and cultures. Why can't the same inclusion occur in Latin America, where many countries speak Spanish and share similar Spanish colonial histories? Will free movement between countries in the Americas ever be possible like it is in the European Union?

About a week ago, a friend posted on Facebook “If you are Ecuadorian, watch this video." The end of the post stated “In these tough times: a call for peace. Not all Venezuelans are bad. Not all Ecuadorians are good.” It is hopeful to think about some hypothetical future free of border controls, xenophobia, and cruelty towards migrants. Until then, there are fortunately many people—in Quito and beyond—who realize that most migrants are just looking for a safer life. However, the divide between welcoming migrants or fearing remains the cause of ongoing debates in the United States, Ecuador, and across the globe.