Street Roots • Dec. 23-29, 2016
News
it’s not uncommon for her clients to be so
grateful that they will hug her, kiss her and
cook for her.
But that’s another cultural difference.
“The first time a man was crying because
he was drinking again, I touched his
shoulder,” she said. A co-worker told her it
was inappropriate for her to touch him.
“I had no idea. We hug and kiss when we
say ‘hi’ and ‘goodbye.’ So touching a shoulder
is the best way to help to comfort you if you
are crying, so there are things I know I am
not allowed. But my Latinos, I always hug and
kiss them, and I eat in their houses. I don’t
think I’m allowed to do that with any white
household; it’s just different.”
Since she’s been in Portland, Cristina has
touched the lives of many immigrants trying
to make their way in a new country, much
like she is.
But for one dying woman, Cristina traveled
thousands of miles to make her final wish
come true.
t took Maria three attempts before she
successfully crossed the U.S.-Mexico
border, but she was determined to make a
new life, documented or not, in America.
(“Maria” is a pseudonym, as JOIN requested
we not use her real name.)
When she arrived in the U.S., she was
healthy and strong, with striking gray eyes
and high hopes for the future. She came to
Portland because she had some distant
relatives who lived in the area, but she never
I
PHOTO BY JOSEPH
GLODE
Cristina Castano
Henao discusses
what itwas like
to be a social
worker in
Colombia at her
boyfriend’s house
in St. Johns.
CRISTINA, from page 5
After she began working at JOIN, she was
surprised further to discover she had the
means to help people pay their electricity
bills and could offer them money to buy
groceries.
“In Colombia, I had kids asking me for a
little piece of crayon,” she said.
While the problems Latinos face in the
U.S. are different from those faced in
Colombia, she said they are just as real.
“You see them dealing with racism and not
knowing that it’s racism. You see the lack of
opportunities,” she said. “They can’t get sick
- they have TANF (Temporary Assistance for
Needy Families) and food stamps, which is
never enough, but no bus tickets. They are
embarrassed to ask for help, so you see them
walk four miles to the store.”
She helps the families she works with
navigate the city and tells them where they
can buy cheap Hispanic foods and how to
garden.
“Most don’t know anything outside their
three blocks - they don’t know how to use
the bus,” she said.
Coming from countries with fewer
resources, she said, the people she works
with never expect the kind of help her
organization and others can provide.
“If you are from there, and you come here?
This is heaven! They are shocked.” She said
really clicked with them.
She gave birth to a little boy, but then She
got sick. First it was bone cancer, and she
lost part of her leg, making her permanently
disabled.
When Cristina began working with her, she
was living with her son in a garage that had
been converted into an apartment. Cristina
said she remembered Maria saying that she
wished she could visit her mother and sister
in Mexico City one last time, but Cristina
warned her that she wouldn’t be able to get
back into the U.S. if she did that, and her son
was a U.S. citizen.
Eventually, Cristina was able to get Maria a
housing voucher and moved her into a nicer
apartment.
Then she was diagnosed with heart failure.
“She could never really understand what
was happening,” Cristina said.
This spring, ,Cristina was summoned to
Oregon Health & Science University hospital
because she was listed as Maria’s emergency
contact
The hospital staff had called her because
they needed her help in telling Maria that
she was dying. While Cristina was able to
relay the information, she said Maria didn’t
fully understand for some time. She was in
pain and heavily medicated.
“After a month, she finally understood she
was going to pass away,” Cristina said. “She
Page 7
came here full of hope, and all she got was
cancer, disability, zero income.”
No hospice would take her, because she
was an undocumented immigrant without
insurance, and she could no longer live on
her own.
One day, while meeting with staff at
Portland’s Mexican Consulate with another
Latino family she was assisting, Cristina
mentioned she was working with a woman
who needed to go to Mexico if she was going
to die with dignity.
In Mexico, she would be able to access
hospice care and could be in the company of
her loved ones.
She was told the Mexican Consulate could
pay the airfare. But someone needed to
accompany her because she was very ill.
Cristina said she would do it.
JOIN’S executive director, Shannon
Singleton, said she wasn’t at all surprised
when Cristina came up to her and asked if
the organization
could figure out a way
to send her
thousands of miles to "You see them dealing with
Mexico.
racism and not knowing that
“She is so
it's racism. You see the lack
dedicated to the folks of opportunities.... They are
that she serves that it
embarrassed to ask for help, so
just kind of made
sense to me that that you see them walk four miles to
would be on her mind the store."
to do,” Singleton said.
CRiSTtNA CASTANO HENAO
“I don’t even know
that (other) folks
■would think that it
was an acceptable thing to ask for, and I was
also really proud that we were able to do it.”
Pulling off this operation was no small feat.
Cristina secured dual citizenship for Maria’s
8-year-old son, ensuring he could make the
trip with his mother without incident.
She made phone calls to Maria’s family in
Mexico, to prepare them for what they would
see. The woman who had left 13 years ago
looked quite different from the woman who
would return, dying and disabled with
yellowing skin and eyes, Cristina said.
Cristina flew with Maria to Mexico City,
where a room full of excited family and
neighbors greeted them at the hospital.
Maria’s mother and sister cried tears of joy
as they hugged and kissed Maria.
Cristina stayed with Maria for five days,
making sure her health care was in order and
the family was OK. She said that when she
left, it seemed Maria was finally at peace with
dying.
Maria died four days later. She was 37.
When asked why she felt it was so
important to take Maria back to Mexico City
in her final days, Cristina’s response was an
incredulous, “Wouldn’t you do that?”
emily@streetroots. org
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