Description

José is an introverted man. He rarely smiles or speaks much, sitting utterly motionless wherever he settles down, just like a solid boulder. Countless tiny scars stretch across his sun-tanned skin, which bears witnesses to years of gruelling manual labour. When his gaze lands on you, you can sense the untold hardships he is reluctant to talk about.

He hails from Honduras, the very same homeland as Ana. Yet his reason for fleeing the country is straightforward: violent gangs and rampant guns used to terrify him day in and day out.

He doesn’t go for flowery descriptions. He speaks simply, just like how he lives. “They take to the streets armed with guns,” he says grimly. “They kill anyone who stands in their way. I just want to live. That’s all I want — just to stay alive.”

He earns his living doing manual labour at construction sites. “I like carrying bricks,” he says. “The work is tiring, but it is simple and fair. You earn exactly what you work for. There is no cheating at all.” He is fond of marble too—the square, polished slab laid to pave floors. “Marble is clean and steady,” he remarks. “ When you step on it, you know the ground beneath you is firm.”

Being extremely neat and methodical, José loves everything tidy and well-organized — quite a luxury for a wandering migrant. “I like stacking bricks neatly,” he says. “Others say I’m wasting time. But I don’t think so. Things kept in order will never fall down.”

His dream is to become a construction foreman. “I don’t want to be a big boss,” he says. “I just want to lead a small team and take on small projects. I assign work, check quality, and finish one construction site after another. In this way, I can earn more money and offer jobs to more people like me.”

Even talking about his dream, a smile never tugs at his lips. Still, resolve resonates more strongly in his voice. This dream is no distant fantasy; it serves as the driving force pushing him to haul bricks daily, learn construction skills bit by bit, save every penny, and endure every hardship. He fully grasps no matter how tough the road ahead will be, yet he is ready to give it his all.

“I may never return to Honduras,” he finally says. “But I can build a house in Mexico, a house that will never collapse. And that’s enough for me.”