Shoeboxes of toys, trinkets thrill poor children of Palomas
“Is this a dream or is it real?”
Secondgrader Axel Rodriguez saw the towers of giftwrapped shoeboxes piled high on the tables of the Columbus Elementary School library and couldn’t help but exclaim.
Inside each of the boxes were toys and trinkets, packed with care and donated by people from around southern New Mexico, including Las Cruces, Truth or Consequences, Silver City and Deming — Christmas presents meant for the mostly very poor children of Palomas, a dusty border town just over the U.S.-Mexico line.
Two years ago, the program known as Shoeboxes for Palomas — spearheaded by the New Mexico Office of Border Health and joined by several church and nonprofit groups — ran into a snag.
After years of allowing donors to bring over hundreds of gift-filled shoeboxes, so chosen because they could be easily reviewed by customs
officials, Mexican customs suddenly decided to charge an arm and a leg to import the gifts: $800 to $1,000, according to organizers.
The unexpected fee shocked the Americans. No one wanted to raise too much of a fuss and spark an international incident, however local. So they settled on delivering the gifts to the Columbus school, where more than 500 of the 645 students are U.S.born citizens growing up in Palomas.
“I get a little emotional when I speak of our kids,” said principal Armando Chavez, pausing to find the words. *“They are so impoverished. Some are not as needy as others, but some of our kids experience Third World conditions, dirt floors at home, heat by kerosene lamps. This is why our school is so important. They come here and they know they are safe.”
Columbus is one of the poorest places in New Mexico. And across the border, it’s not just the poverty, but the legacy of violence: Palomas was especially hard hit by the drug violence that brutalized Ciudad Juárez and its outskirts between 2008 and 2011. Many of the schoolchildren are old enough to remember.
Librarian Maggie Calderon receives the shoebox gifts in her small office and organizes them according to age and gender. Teachers give her a list of their neediest students, and she makes sure they get presents first — because the shoeboxes might be the only presents some kids get for Christmas.
Unfortunately, this year she had to scramble.
Ever since the groups stopped handing out the gifts in Palomas, fewer people have been donating. This year Calderon got close to
400 shoeboxes, and she made up the difference by filling gift bags with fleece tops, toothbrushes and toothpaste, and school supplies she could afford at Wal-Mart.
“We have more students this year and fewer presents,” she said.
Volunteer Cindy Anaya handed out gifts to a chorus of thank yous and
gracias, and the children, who were supposed to wait until they got back to their classrooms, tore open the lids on their boxes to see what treasures they might find.
After school dismissed, they gathered on the steps of the Mexican immigration agency’s trailers in Palomas, waiting for their parents and comparing their presents.
They shouted over each other excitedly: I got dinosaurs! I got a doll and a backpack! I got two pairs of gloves and lollipops!
Across the street was Mexican customs, and I stopped in, wondering if something had gotten lost in translation. Customs staff in Palomas turns over almost every year, and organizers in the U.S. couldn’t recall exactly who spoke to whom or when. So I thought I would ask about current policy.
I found Ivan Larios, a deputy customs manager, in his office and explained the situation. They really wouldn’t allow Christmas gifts to cross the border without a duty?
“Hold on,” he said. “I hope you don’t misunderstand. You can make donations as long as you follow the law.”
Then, sighing as if he had met one too many scam artists, he said: “Do you know how often people come with a truckload full of merchandise and say it’s ‘donations’? That’s why we ask people to follow the protocol.”
All the Americans have to do next year is stop by a few weeks before Christmas and fill out some paperwork, he said. Even then, he said, a quick chat with the Palomas customs director should be enough to clear up any issues.
The very poorest children in Palomas aren’t U.S. citizens and don’t attend the Columbus school, after all. Maybe next year, some holiday diplomacy and a sprinkle of Christmas magic could revive a true cross-border tradition.