Following the migrant stream

We drove into town in 1949 slant back Plymouth, coming from the desert with a desert water bag tied to the hood ornament, keeping the water cool in the morning. Do mattress tied down to the roof of the car trunk filled with pots, pans, knives and spoons,

all clanging like an untrained marimba band. The baby diapers were scattered everywhere, rolled into bundles tightly to keep the stench down. The front and back seat of the car were filled with two adults and six Children, which was the work group. There we were in Healdsburg,

looking for a country star named Packers and Kantor's trying to find the elusive compatible Rela. The Little Country store was a beehive of lost workers trying to find each other and work at the same time. On this 300 mile journey, we picked up a 16 year

old undocumented hitchhiker who could speak both languages in service. An interpreter to sustain us on trip, A mother packed a bundle of tacos made out of flour tortillas wrapped in cloth aluminum foil to keep them warm. Neatly packed in a wooden box was salt shaker crushed

pepper on assortment of Chile's wilting cilantro and a slice of cotija cheese like wondering salmon in a sea of unfamiliar faces. The prune pickers and fruit tramps all huddled like bees, seeking a nourishment from the high. How we managed to get her, I don't know, with

sign language fingers pointing in all directions by talking to each other, we're able to communicate the description of comparative Varela. Yeah, for what seemed an eternity. We were tired of repeating his description, desperately trying to find him. The comparative Varela was nowhere to be found. As

we're ready to give up hope. An elderly man came up to my dad grabbing hiss attention and said, Is he who you're looking for? In there was the elusive competitive Varela. We found a temporary roof over our heads, a car garage with dirt and gravel floors

and beds made out of prune boxes. Comparative shared his home with us. And like a waterfall of sustaining Esperanza. We knew that we were going to survive. Yeah, yeah, yeah