https://www.city-journal.org/mexican-border-christmas
At the southwest edge of the Lower 48, on a sunny, breezy beach where America meets the sea, a green and white van sits on a sandy road, facing south. Behind the wheel is a Border Patrol agent with his eyes on Mexico. The frontier fence stands 100 feet away. On the Mexican side, dozens of people are quietly taking selfies or peeking between the steel ribs of the 20-foot tall barrier. On the American side, three people from New York City look back. Two are visitors from Manhattan. The third is the agent himself—he hails from Brooklyn.
“I thought there would be more people on this side of the fence,” I said, noting that the nearby International Friendship Park was empty.
“More are coming,” the agent replied. “They’re on the way now.” I wanted to ask how he knew, but instead I squinted north, following the wide beach as it curved westward toward Coronado Island and San Diego Bay, clearly visible in the distance. There was no one in sight, and no border security, either—at least, none that I could see. It was three days before Christmas and on both sides of the border all was calm, all was California bright. “Just the way we like it,” the agent said.
At the southwestern edge of America, the border fence continues into the Pacific for 100 yards or so. Next stop, Shanghai. My cell phone flashed “Welcome to Mexico!” I glanced up at the huge Plaza de Toros bullring that towers above the border. Tijuana has worked hard to overcome its seedy reputation as a tourist trap selling souvenirs to norteamericanos. The city is now a thriving metropolitan area, with its own international airport, industrial parks, and condo developments. Tijuanistas are not happy about a politicized migrant march using their home town as a staging area.
But the march got lots of attention in the media, which is why my wife and I are here. After all that coverage of the troubles in Tijuana, we wanted to see what’s happening on the American side. That’s why others are coming, too, even though the automobile road to this part of the border is closed. Reaching the steel fence requires GPS assistance and a strenuous slog southward.
From Border Field State Park, it’s a three-mile round trip on foot, but a steady stream of visitors seemed willing to try. In the parking lot I met a man from Warsaw. “Poland has its own border problems,” he said. “I wish to see how America handles things.”
Parked beside him was a family of five from Australia. Mr. Aussie was also curious about the American side, though he confessed to feeling guilty about Australia keeping out Asian immigrants who arrive there uninvited, “in rickety boats.” Even using the word “rickety” unsettled him. “It’s probably the best they could do,” he said.
A van arrived with seven young people from India, who debated about making the walk to the border. “We want to see what’s happening,” said a man who had come to the U.S. to study at the University of Virginia. Now he worked for Amazon. “In India we are careful about borders,” another man said.