It’s been one month since 36 migrants arrived in Sacramento. Here’s what their lives are like

It was just after lunch at Saint Anthony Church in Sacramento, and six Venezuelan migrants were playing an intense, but fumbling game of basketball.

One man yelled “entra, entra,” telling his shorter teammate to drive the ball inside. The teammate heeded the advice and dribbled to the hoop. He lost control of the ball while attempting a pass.

“Brinca, si tu brincas tu lo agarras,” he fired back, telling the taller man to jump for the ball.

Over the next few minutes, there were more errant passes and badly missed shots.

But the smiles on their faces that Wednesday afternoon in late June suggested not a single man cared. When they fled Venezuela, they had not heard of Sacramento, nor imagined days playing basketball or meeting Gov. Gavin Newsom.

It had been nearly one month since the state of Florida, under the direction of Gov. Ron DeSantis, chartered two flights that picked up 36 migrants. The migrants — mainly from Venezuela and Colombia— were unaware at the time that they had become political pawns.

Each was promised to be flown to a location plentiful with work and housing. Some were told they would be sent to Los Angeles. Instead, all were left in Sacramento.

Within days, local groups and religious congregations organized to provide housing, food and clothing. And today, the migrants are enjoying a semblance of normalcy while continuing their search for stable work.

“It never crossed my mind that I could do these things,” said one of the men, a 34-year-old Venezuelan national. “I’m thankful for the people of Sacramento.”

The migrants continue to speak on the condition of anonymity, fearing violence and other reprisals for their presence in the capital region.

Meeting Governor Newsom and his wife

The first group of migrants arrived on June 2, where they were bused to and left on the doorstep of the Roman Catholic Diocese of Sacramento.

Members of the diocese called Cecilia Flores, a spokeswoman for Sacramento ACT, a collaboration of Sacramento area religious congregations. Flores arrived at the diocese parking lot, hoping to gather more information on the circumstances surrounding the arrival.

“We had no idea what was happening,” Flores said. “But at that moment we just had this group of people that were going to need help.”

Flores and other Sacramento ACT members pieced together the migrants’ journeys over the next few hours. They were soon moved to the Our Lady of Guadalupe Church and fed.

That’s where the migrants began showing their immigration papers with upcoming court case dates across the country, and one man pulled out an unsigned consent form to participate in a voluntary transportation program funded by the state of Florida and contracted by Vertol Systems Co.

“That’s when we started contacting electeds (officials) to try to figure out what was next,” Flores said.

The next morning, Newsom, his wife Siebel and Attorney General Rob Bonta met with the migrants at South Sacramento Christian Center. The migrants shared their stories over a breakfast of coffee and Panera Bread.

Gov. Newsom spoke with them using a staffer to translate. Siebel ended up being the most popular of three individuals due to her ability to speak Spanish. Gov. Some migrants recall her crying when they described their journeys.

“They were really enamored with his partner,” Flores said.

One of the migrants, who is 40, carries a business card with a phone number that Siebel gave him.

“She said to call if we need any help, but I haven’t wanted to bother,” he said.

Two days later, on June 5, a second group of 20 migrants landed in Sacramento.

Supper at Congregation B’nai Israel

Several religious congregations in Sacramento have hosted the migrants since their arrival. Among those was the Congregation B’nai Israel, which arranged for a dinner fundraiser on June 16.

The event sold out within three days of being announced and raised about $5,000, said Sharon Rogoff, a member of the congregation’s women leadership council.

Inside the synagogue’s social hall, more than 200 people enjoyed a dinner cooked by the migrants. The main dish consisted of plantains, shredded beef, fried eggs, beans, rice and cheese.

“It wasn’t just that we’re helping these people from Latin America, but to learn about the culture that they were from, to experience it through the food, through their generosity and their desire to be of help,” said Rabbi Mona Alfi.

While they ate together, congregation members and migrants chatted at the various tables. Some were able to communicate through nearby people that spoke both English and Spanish, while others relied on their phones to translate.

Others hardly chatted, instead depending on the migrants to steer the conversation with photos and videos of their journey, which includes walking the Darien Gap, Panama’s treacherous jungle isthmus, and traveling by train through Mexico.

Sacramento Councilman Eric Guerra attended the dinner and was among the people who served as translators. He said that members connected with the migrants because of their family’s migration stories.

“Many of them had parents or grandparents that came here because of political conflict … and these folks connected with that,” Guerra said.

Guerra attended Sacramento Republic FC game with a group of about 20 migrants the following evening.

Basketball, bike rides and the promise of work

Though none are able to legally secure jobs due to their immigration status, the migrants’ priority remains finding work. A few migrants have begun occasional manual labor jobs.

To help expedite the process, Sacramento ACT executive director Gabby Trejo has focused on opportunities for the migrants to network with the community. That included the afternoon when Saint Anthony Church hosted the migrants for a day of activities. Only 31 migrants remain in Sacramento, with five being picked up by family and friends.

“If you can find jobs by yourself, keep at it,” Trejo told the migrants that day.

While some migrants played basketball inside, another group is returning from a five-mile bicycle ride led by church member Rich Fowler. Their foreheads dripped in sweat as they remove their helmets.

Fowler said he was struck by the migrants’ energy, while braving the 95-degree weather.

“What kept going through my mind was what these folks have gone through to get to ride their bikes with me, and how strong they were, how energetic they were, how knowledgeable they were,” he said.

One of the Venezuelan migrants had a hopeful encounter while pedaling back to the church. He met a man doing yard work. The 21-year-old explained his situation and expressed his desire earn money. The man gave him a phone number and said he might have work coming up.

“I told him I can start working tomorrow.”