In the heart of San Francisco, behind the gleaming counters and elaborated dishes of some of the city's most high-end restaurants, lies a story largely untold.

It's the narrative of resilience, dreams, hope, suffering and undying spirit of those in search of a better life. The silent yet profound struggles of latinos, in their vast majority Maya workers from Yucatan, who form the backbone of this thriving culinary world in the Bay Area, California.

Hey lovely people! Today, I'm touching on something deeply meaningful to me: the journey of undocumented immigration to the USA. It's one thing to watch these stories from the comfort of our homes in documentaries, but it's entirely another to meet and hear from those who've live this reality.

My experiences in San Francisco profoundly changed my perspective in life. As someone who was involved in the industry for a while studying during the day and working as a server in the evening, my eyes were open to the complexities of immigration.

Let's approach this conversation with open hearts, empathy, and a willingness to understand the human stories behind the headlines.

This is their story seen through my eyes, as I ventured beyond the surface of fine dining to uncover the truths hidden in the kitchens of Silicon Valley. I had more than 30 heartfelt conversations with undocumented immigrants in San Francisco, each of them leaving an indelible mark on my soul.

I will never forget their faces…

The kitchen of a high-end restaurant in San Francisco

The Beginning of a Dream

Imagine leaving everything behind: your language, your home, your friends, and your family; driven by the hope of building a better future.

I met Luis in 2020, he was 16 years old from Yucatán. I thought Maya people identified as Mexicans, but he corrected me saying they were not Mexicans but Mayan or “yucas” from Yucatecos as they call each other. He was working as a dishwasher in the corner of an Italian restaurant in San Francisco.

The Mexican desert before crossing the border

In fact, many of them speak only Maya language and some Spanish and many never get to learn English. Why? Because none speaks English in the kitchens! Latinos are majority. Even Indian restaurants in San Francisco have Latin American staff that work as Prep and Line cooks.

You would not believe how funny is to hear the chefs using Mexican slang and learning the name of the food in Spanish to be able to communicate with them. Italian chefs use the word “chingar” when they get pissed at the staff, white Americans chefs use the expression "no mames” when the sauces get ruined, even french chefs are fluent in Spanish as if they were born in Latin America, and everyone calls each other "papi” in a friendly way.

Let's talk about the journey of an undocumented immigrants…

The first thing is getting a coyote, normally the coyotes are recommended among friends and family members that have already crossed illegally.

People from Yucatan with traditional clothe

Depending on how far they are from Tijuana, they can contact up to 4 coyotes during the journey. There are people traveling from Honduras, Guatemala, Salvador and even Colombia, Peru and Venezuela.

They can not carry any money because they can get stolen in the journey, so in each “stop” they have to call the family members who are the ones that pay the coyotes. If they do not pay they can get killed and women get raped.

I talked to a woman from Honduras in her early 30's that her husband made her cross and did not pay the coyote on purpose, so she had to sleep with him by force. When she got to San Francisco, they never talked about it, it was like an untold deal she was supposed to be grateful for, that otherwise she wouldn’t have accepted.

Folks, all the unimaginable happens with the coyotes, there is human trafficking and I am not only talking about adults also kids, there are kidnapping, rapes, torture, killings, and if the person is slow and can not keep up with the group they are left behind with no mercy.

As you can see in the picture above, they all carry bottles of water, and a bag with a little amount clothe. I talked to a Guatemalan guy that ran out of water and had to drink his own pee because none wanted to share their water, everyone saves it as much as they can.

In the evening journey across the desert, everyone wears black, a simple but smart trick to stay under the radar. This isn't about fashion; it's about blending into the night so well that if American helicopters happen to fly overhead, they can quickly lie down and become virtually invisible, just part of the desert landscape.

They stay still, holding their breath, for as long as it takes to ensure they remain unnoticed. It's a tense moment, sure, but also a testament to their resilience and ingenuity.

The coyotes or guides that cross them during the trip, have their own unique way of staying connected, constantly buzzing messages back and forth to each other.

During my time in San Francisco, I met an intriguing mechanic that we will call Vicente, who worked as a coyote. In our conversation, he shared the intricate logistics and strategic distractions employed during border crossings. He described a world where vigilance never sleeps and the psychological toll is heavy, with many succumbing to mental exhaustion at this critical stage of their journey.

As I interviewed him, maintaining an open and non-judgmental demeanor was crucial, allowing him to speak freely. Without shame and honesty, he shared that his earnings as a mechanic weren't sufficient, compelling him to plan one last trip before the year's end.

The cost of crossing, he revealed, ranges from $8,000 to $12,000 for those from Mexico, and even more for people from other countries. That day, he told me he could polish my car too after having fixing it, but it started to rain, so I invite him for tacos at the local taqueria in Daily City.

There are more than 2000 taquerias in all the Bay Area according to SF Chronicle

I was captivated by the ease and normalcy with which he shared his story…

After the groups successfully make it to San Diego, on the other side of Tijuana, there's hardly a moment to catch their breath before they're on a bus headed straight to San Francisco. This is to avoid getting stopped and deported back.

THE UNSEEN BEHIND THE KITCHEN DOORS

You might be curious: how do people work if they don't have official paperwork? Coming from Europe, this might sound astonishing, but let me share something fascinating with you: America is a land where everything is possible.

It's a common misconception that bending the rules is exclusive to developing countries. However, through my own experiences, I've realized that the U.S., particularly in states with Democrat leadership, has its own share of rule-bending. And please know, I'm not trying to make a political statement here. It's just an observation from what I've seen and learned. A complex reality in America.

San Francisco holds a unique title as a "Sanctuary City", a place where city funds and resources are consciously not used to support federal immigration enforcement. It's also known as the "City of Refuge," creating a space where immigrants, regardless of their legal status, can live in ways that might seem unimaginable elsewhere. Isn't that incredible?

Now, before you worry, I'm not writing this to stir up any controversy or suggest anything untoward. Far from it, I believe in abiding by the law and the importance of legality. However, it's important to share the real stories of the people I've encountered. Life is complex, and every action has its repercussions, but understanding these stories adds depth to our perspective on humanity and the diverse world we navigate.

Now, how do they get into the labour system? With f4ke California ID, and f4ke Social Security number. Where do they get it? In the Mission District in San Francisco. I was told that everyone working under the table in the hospitality industry knows someone that does it. The cost for these documents varies, typically between $250 to $400, depending on the quality and authenticity. It's a complex issue, reflecting the lengths to which people will go to build a livelihood in a new place.

Are you shocked? There is even more to the story: The owners of the restaurants are completely aware of this! They use what are known as "ghost social security numbers" to meet legal requirements, a workaround that's as practical for them as it is for their employees.

And here's where it gets even more astonishing: those working under these ghost numbers actually contribute to taxes, despite using IDs that don't officially exist! I told you, everything is possible in America…

THE JOB

In the kitchens, the journey often begins in the most humble of roles for many Latin immigrants who arrive without documentation, especially those who haven't yet mastered English. Dishwashing and janitorial work become their initial stepping stones in a new country, offering a start despite the challenges.

As time passes, usually after a year, a shift occurs. Some transition into more skilled positions, like prep and line cooks, working closely with chefs either in savory kitchens or patisserie sections. Meanwhile, on the front end, others find their niche assisting servers as food runners or busers, becoming integral parts of the dining experience.

Some immigrants cross the border more than once as if it were almost a routine excursion. This often happens when they're overwhelmed by exhaustion and decide to return home, only to feel the pull of regret later, or they cross for critical reasons like weddings, family illnesses, or other urgent matters.

In 2019, I had the pleasure of meeting Señor Don, a 54-year-old man working as a dishwasher in an Arab restaurant. I was shocked to learn that he had crossed the border nine times! He explained me how two decades ago, the journey was much more affordable. Of course, his experience isn't common for everyone; being from Sinaloa, he had a geographical advantage over those from places like Yucatan or countries like Salvador.

While working in America, every dollar they earn carries a heavy responsibility, traveling thousands of miles back home to support their families. This money isn't just currency; it's a beacon of hope, securing a roof over their loved ones' heads, funding education for their children, and laying the groundwork for a secure retirement.

Imagine being the sole beacon of hope for your family, supporting up to ten relatives on the strength of your determination and hard work. This is the reality for some immigrants that made it to America with dreams not just for themselves but for their entire family.

Let me introduce you to Orlando from Yucatan, his first language is Mayan but he can speak a good level of Spanish, he speaks Mayan with his family back home. When I met him, he was 36 years old and ready to come back to Yucatán after living in America for 14 years. He taught me some Maya language and the culture of his region.

On the day we captured this photo, I took him to see the Golden Gate Bridge during our interview. He wanted this picture for his kids back home, sharing that it had been 12 years since his last visit. Time, he explained, had slipped through his fingers, caught up in the whirlwind of work and without a car to make the journey easier. So, I made it happen.

As we explored, Orlando transformed. Despite living in San Francisco for 14 years, he marveled at the sights with the wide-eyed wonder of a first-time visitor.

For the Maya workers who've made San Francisco their home, the Golden Gate Bridge transcends its status as an iconic landmark. It is a symbol that embodies emotions: nostalgia, solitude, and a poignant yearning for the land they've left behind. Many famous Mayan songs in Yucatán have been recorded in Mayan language at the Golden Gate Bridge.

In case you are wondering where Yucatán is, it is a Peninsula composed by 3 countries: Mexico, Guatemala and Belice. Orlando is from the Mexican part.

Orlando's days were spent as a prep cook, a role he juggled across three different restaurants. Each month, he sent nearly 80% of his earnings back to Mexico. To make ends meet on the remaining 20%, he shared a small apartment in the Mission District with nine others. His bed was a simple mattress on the floor.

Mission District, San Francisco. The Latin Neighborhood.

Back in 2021, during our conversation, Orlando shared that his living expenses amounted to $250 a month for a spot in an apartment, just enough space for his mattress. Weekends brought small pleasures; he and his roommates, who also worked in various restaurants and hailed from the same region in Yucatán, would share a 24-pack of beer, their most affordable form of entertainment.

In their shared living space, they took turns cooking and cleaning, creating a sense of community and shared responsibility amidst their bustling lives. This arrangement not only helped them save money but also fostered a slice of home, far from home, where camaraderie and mutual support lightened the load of their daily challenges.

Mission District or the Spanish District, SanFrancisco

Throughout his years in America, Orlando's hard work and dedication bore remarkable fruit, he managed to buy 4 houses in Yucatán, along with 2 plots of land for agriculture, 2 trucks, and a car. He had only one afternoon off each week, which he devoted to household chores and grocery shopping.

I have to say, I admire this man very much, he sacrificed his life working non stop in San Francisco to have a future for his family and get out of poverty. Yet, the scars of loneliness and the pressures of survival lead some down darker paths.

Not every story echoes Orlando's success; some face harsher outcomes like drug addiction, mental health struggles, homelessness, or a return to their homeland, overwhelmed by the immense pressures and steep costs of their journey.

Reflecting on Orlando's story stirred deep thoughts within me for an entire week. The stark reality of his daily life, and those like him, stands in vivid contrast to the luxury they contribute to creating in their industry.

The next time you dine out in San Francisco and the Bay Area, remember the unseen heroes of the kitchen. Their journey, their sacrifices, and their dreams are integral to the culinary masterpieces we cherish.

The idea to start a cultural Blog came to life after having dinner in San Francisco with someone I really look up to. I told him about the stories you read today, and he said, "You should start writing about this." So, a huge thanks to Freddy Vega for that nudge.

Thank you for reading folks!

August 4th 2021

the underground scene of the hospitality industry in america

The Beginning of a Dream

THE UNSEEN BEHIND THE KITCHEN DOORS

in a world of assholes…

my encounter with a native american half Ute, half Cheyenne