Blog de Valentina Oropeza

Raul Sanchez Sanchez was wearing a backpack, a red T-shirt and black tennis shoes the last time he was seen alive.

He had been missing for seven weeks when the volunteer group Águilas del Desierto set out on its search in the Sonoran Desert, a 260,000-square-kilometer area on the U.S.-Mexico border.

We accompanied the Eagles during the search for Raúl — José María Rodero on camera, I in production and presentation — after his sister Inmaculada gave the only clue that made it possible to track him: the intersection between two roads on a hill of Cerro Picudo, where he had been last seen.

I spoke with Inmaculada several times on the phone. She used to tell me that her biggest concern was that her family, especially her mother, would be able to know what had happened to Raul.

We walked for nine hours in exhausting heat. We had to separate to cover more territory in the search and we took all the water from more than ten bottles that each one carried in their backpack.

We were always accompanied by Alberto and Chaparrito, two guides who took care of us as they searched that desert full of dangers, such as extreme temperatures, snakes, bushes full of thorns that swallow the footprints and the presence of organized crime.

When we heard on the radios that they had found a body, we decided to climb the mountain where the other group was. But after an hour, my body gave up and I couldn’t take another step.

José María, on the other hand, decided to continue climbing. Thanks to that choice, which cost him a knee injury, we obtained the complete record of the search.

The documentary The Lost Migrant Searchers in the Sonoran Desert won an Emmy two years ago in the category of Outstanding Report in Spanish. You can find it in the first comment.

We are grateful to all the volunteers of the Desert Eagles, especially its founders Ely and Marisela Ortiz, for allowing us to experience what IOM has recorded as the deadliest land migration route in the world.

Two years later, I still remember Inmaculada’s anguish. And I think of Raúl’s journey that we could never tell.

Although I had (compulsively) watched all the videos I found on social networks about rescuers in La Guaira, Daniela’s story revealed to me how calm, will, and dedication are also ways to address fear.

His testimony triggers new questions:

What makes a person willing to risk their life to save a stranger?

Where do we keep the fear of dying to save others, if we are aware that no one will come to our rescue in case the situation worsens?