{"id":583253,"date":"2022-03-31T14:45:47","date_gmt":"2022-03-31T14:45:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/theintercept.com\/?p=391961"},"modified":"2022-03-31T14:45:47","modified_gmt":"2022-03-31T14:45:47","slug":"migrants-fleeing-hurricanes-and-drought-face-new-climate-disasters-in-ice-detention","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/radiofree.asia\/2022\/03\/31\/migrants-fleeing-hurricanes-and-drought-face-new-climate-disasters-in-ice-detention\/","title":{"rendered":"Migrants Fleeing Hurricanes and Drought Face New Climate Disasters in ICE Detention"},"content":{"rendered":"

When Hurricane Laura<\/u> slammed into Louisiana in the summer of 2020, it was the strongest storm in the state since U.S. record-keeping began. For 42-year-old Angel Argueta Anariba, it was the beginning of a period of misery: the first of three major storms to hit Central Louisiana\u2019s Catahoula Correctional Center, where he was detained.<\/p>\n

More than 20 years earlier, another climate catastrophe had upended Argueta Anariba\u2019s life. In November 1998, he had fled Honduras in the aftermath of Hurricane Mitch. Now he found himself confronting new climate nightmares in Louisiana, with no possibility of escape.<\/p>\n

The privately run facility where Argueta Anariba was held was one of several new<\/a> U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement facilities in Louisiana<\/a>. The implications of caging thousands of people in a state that\u2019s notorious for extreme weather crystallized with the intensifying wind.<\/p>\n

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In the days that followed the storm\u2019s landfall, detainees throughout<\/a> the state would endure appalling conditions caused in no small part by ICE\u2019s lack of preparedness for climate disasters. An Intercept investigation found that more than half of ICE\u2019s detention facilities, including Catahoula, are already facing significant climate risks.<\/p>\n

“Climate change has already exacerbated extreme weather conditions, and we are seeing a direct impact on incarcerated people warehoused in immigration detention facilities across the country,\u201d said Karla Ostolaza, managing director of the immigration practice at the\u00a0Bronx Defenders, a public defense group\u00a0that is representing\u00a0Argueta Anariba.\u00a0\u201cWe are very concerned that more extreme weather events caused by climate change will lead to further exploitation and disregard for detained immigrants at ICE facilities.”<\/p>\n

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On August 26, with Hurricane Laura lashing the Catahoula facility, the lights went out and the water stopped running, according to a court affidavit by Argueta Anariba. The services were down for five days. Several inches of water pooled on the ground. With the air conditioning down, the dorm felt like it was over 100 degrees. In the first days,\u00a0facility employees brought in a few gallons to drink, twice a day, for more than 50 people.<\/p>\n

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Angel Argueta Anariba describes his experience in immigration detention when Hurricane Laura hit\u00a0Louisiana’s Catahoula Correctional Center in August 2020.<\/div>\n

\u201cThe toilets would not flush during this time, and some people were forced to defecate on the trays that they gave us for meals and then throw those in the trash,\u201d Argueta Anariba said, adding that with staff avoiding the dorms, garbage piled up. The stench made Argueta Anariba feel sick and aggravated his asthma. \u201cThe smell was excruciating.\u201d<\/p>\n

People held by ICE in other parts of the state<\/a> were experiencing similar problems<\/a>, with protests arising among the detained.<\/p>\n

2020 would soon set the record<\/a> for the number of hurricanes that crashed into the continental U.S. Within weeks of Laura, wind and rain from another storm hit the Catahoula facility.<\/p>\n

Evacuees from other facilities were bused to the detention center. Tensions were high in the overcrowded prison; Argueta Anariba said a pepper spray-like substance was frequently used as a means of crowd control. \u201cI could not breathe and vomited several times,\u201d he said. \u201cMy face felt like it was burning.\u201d<\/p>\n

When a third storm hit, electricity went out again, but with the heat less severe, the situation was more tolerable.<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the three hurricanes that passed,\u201d said Argueta Anariba, who is undocumented, \u201cI lived the worst part of my life.\u201d
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\n\"Detainees\n

Detainees inside Krome Detention Center in Miami on Nov. 6, 2020.<\/p>\n

\nPhoto: Jos\u00e9 A. Iglesias\/Miami Herald via AP<\/p><\/div><\/p>\n

The Next Disaster<\/h2>\n

The past decade has given rise to the notion of the \u201cclimate migrant,\u201d a term that describes people like Argueta Anariba who are forced to leave their nation because of a climate-related disaster. The climate crisis means that migration to the U.S. is likely to increase in the years ahead. Around 680,000 climate migrants are expected to cross the U.S.-Mexico border between now and 2050, according to an analysis by ProPublica and the New York Times Magazine<\/a>.<\/p>\n

\u201cI traveled with many people who came from Honduras, escaping from the destruction that was the country,\u201d Argueta Anariba told The Intercept in Spanish. \u201cThey\u2019re still in this country, continuing forward, working to get ahead.\u201d<\/p>\n

For some climate migrants, the journey ends when they are ensnared in the U.S. immigration enforcement system. Many will find themselves in detention centers that are, an Intercept investigation found, especially vulnerable to climate risks.<\/p>\n

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To determine how the climate crisis impacts incarcerated people, The Intercept mapped more than 6,500 jails, prisons, and detention centers against heat, wildfire, and flood risk. ICE detainees were held in some 128 facilities as of 2020, according to research by the Carceral Ecologies team at UCLA. Catahoula Correctional Center is one of 72 immigration detention centers The Intercept identified as facing significant climate-related risks<\/a> \u2014 risks that are poised to get more severe as the climate crisis deepens. (ICE did not\u00a0provide answers to\u00a0The Intercept\u2019s questions for this article.)<\/p>\n

The U.S. refugee system generally does not recognize climate disaster as a reason to grant asylum. In cases of environmental catastrophes, the Department of Homeland Security, ICE\u2019s parent agency, has the power to designate a country for temporary protected status, a program that allows some of its citizens to temporarily live and work in the U.S. without fear of deportation.<\/p>\n

The designation, though, is rarely applied. The program, for instance, was not opened up to those fleeing Honduras when hurricanes Eta and Iota devastated the country in 2020. When TPS is applied, onerous conditions can thwart those seeking its protections. After Hurricane Mitch, Hondurans were afforded TPS status, but Argueta Anariba didn\u2019t qualify in part because of a criminal conviction, his lawyer said.<\/p>\n

If restrictive U.S. immigration policies go unchanged, more climate migrants will end up in detention facilities. Without either new investments in infrastructure or a rethinking of U.S. immigration policies, detained migrants will be facing\u00a0worsening climate risks \u2014 this time without the chance to flee.<\/p>\n\n\n