EcuadorCarmen Carcelen allowed more than 8,500 Venezuelans to stay in their homes because of the heartbreaking feeling that they had to spend their nights in the street.

One evening in late August, a group of 10 Venezuelans came to the door of Carmen Carcelen's home in Juncal, northern Ecuador, to ask to stay, because they were told that the door of the house was always open to the miserable migrants. The two volunteers immediately invited the new guests to drop their luggage and brought each of them a hot bowl of soup.

post

Migrants living at Carcelen's house Photo: Al Jazeera

Carcelen read the bible while explaining the rules of the house to newcomers: keeping the atmosphere peaceful, washing dishes after eating, not smoking and drinking alcohol, handing over all weapons to bring with you, both knives. Anyone who refuses to follow these rules is invited to leave the home.

"The food, beds, electricity and water you use here are free," Carcelen told them.

Not only provide food, sleep, Carcelen is also for migrants who come here to care as a hug when they need or help them massage aching feet after days of walking.

For the past two years, the 48-year-old woman has always been open to Venezuelan immigrants, giving them a temporary shelter on the difficult and dangerous journey. Since August 2017, Carcelen has helped more than 8,500 Venezuelans to come here.

The number of Venezuelan immigrants who have come to Ecuador soared after the government's new law on visa requirements were stricter. Every day, up to 4,500 Venezuelans arrive at the border to find their way into Ecuador before August 26, the day the new visa law takes effect, nearly double the previous 2,500 people. They fled the country to flee poverty, hyperinflation as well as a serious shortage of food and medicine.

The number of people coming to Carcelen's home tripled during that time, from 100 to 300 per day. Carcelen said her house only has room for 150 people per night, so she will prioritize families with children.

Carcelen shared that she had no intention of turning her own home into a residence for migrants, but things changed in 2017, when the couple drove on the highway and saw a man in groups of migrants collapsed on the side of the road due to exhaustion.

The Carcelen couple took the group home and let them stay for one night. After that, Carcelen's home gradually became a refuge for more and more migrants. They came here through referrals from other immigrants or Carcelen's neighbors.

The Carcelen's three-storey house is on the main road that runs through the Colombian-Ecuador border, where the majority of the 1.7 million Venezuelans who have immigrated to Ecuador since 2015 have passed. She reserved the third floor for sleeping places for migrants coming here with a rule: men will sleep separately in a large room with mattresses on the floor, and women and children will sleep in two smaller rooms with beds. floor.

post

Carcelen (wearing an apron) helps treat cold sores at the feet of an immigrant Photo: Al Jazeera

Edgar Soto and his wife Yennifer Peralta entered Ecuador shortly before the entry into force of the visa law. The couple walked for more than 10 hours before being picked up by a truck driver to get to Carcelen's house.

This was the 19th day of the Soto couple's trip from Venezuela, through Colombia and Ecuador, and most of the time they were on foot. They had 6 nights to sleep in the street and narrowly escaped death by the attack of bandits along the way, before reaching the Carcelen house.

"I didn't dare to imagine that I would come here and think that tonight I will have to sleep in the street again," Soto shared while at Carcelen's house. "I believe when you go through all the worst, some good things will definitely come".

The migrants said they had received a lot of help from Ecuadorians along the way, but very few people opened the door to them to stay overnight like Carcelen.

"I don't think anyone would open more of these, because it is too risky," said Javier Arcentales Illescas, a human rights lawyer at Andina University Simon Bolivar in Quito.

Carcelen is maintaining the operation of this special home based on the modest income from the husband's vegetable trade and small donations from local philanthropists.

She sometimes received aid, such as blankets, mattresses, or plastic chairs, but these did not help her deal with food and electricity bills many times larger. That makes many people worry Carcelen will have difficulty maintaining the house in the long run.

However, Carcelen insists her house will continue to be open to Venezuelans until the exodus ends and they can return home.