So I'm sitting across from Pedro, the coyote, the human smuggler,
我坐在佩德罗对面，这个郊狼，蛇头，
in his cement block apartment, in a dusty Reynosa neighborhood somewhere on the US-Mexico border.
在他的水泥砖公寓里，在美墨边境一个尘土飞扬的雷诺萨社区。
It's 3am. The day before, he had asked me to come back to his apartment.
当时是凌晨3点。前一天，他让我回到他的公寓。
We would talk man to man. He wanted me to be there at night and alone.
我们会一对一地交谈。他让我晚上独自过来。
I didn't know if he was setting me up, but I knew I wanted to tell his story.
我不知道他会不会陷害我，但我知道我想讲述他的故事。
He asked me, "What will you do if one of these pollitos, or migrants, slips into the water and can't swim?
他问我，“你会怎么做，如果这些波利托斯人，或移民，滑落水中，不会游泳？
Will you simply take your pictures and watch him drown? Or will you jump in and help me?"
你是简单拍个照然后看着他淹死吗？还是你会跳进去帮助我？”
At that moment, Pedro wasn't a cartoonish TV version of a human smuggler.
那个时候，佩德罗并不是一个卡通版的走私犯。
He was just a young man, about my age, asking me some really tough questions. This was life and death.
他只是个年轻人，跟我一样的年纪，问我些真的非常尖锐的问题。这就是生和死的问题。
The next night, I photographed Pedro as he swam the Rio Grande, crossing with a group of young migrants into the United States.
第二天晚上，我拍下了佩德罗和一群年轻移民一起横渡里约热内卢格兰德河进入美国的照片。
Real lives hung in the balance every time he crossed people.
每次他带人横渡时，活生生的生命都是在鬼门关打转。
For the last 20 years, I've documented one of the largest transnational migrations in world history,
在过去20年间，我记录下了世界历史上一次最大的跨国移民，
which has resulted in millions of undocumented people living in the United States.
它开启了数百万无证人群在美国的生活。
The vast majority of these people leave Central America and Mexico
大部分人离开中美洲和墨西哥，
to escape grinding poverty and extreme levels of social violence.
是为了逃离极度贫困和极端的社会暴力。
I photograph intimate moments of everyday people's lives, of people living in the shadows.
我近距离拍下了人们日常生活的瞬间，这些生活在阴影中的人们。
Time and again, I've witnessed resilient individuals in extremely challenging situations constructing practical ways to improve their lives.
一次次的，我目睹了坚强的人在极端挑战的环境中建设切实可行的方式来改善他们的生活。
With these photographs, I place you squarely in the middle of these moments and ask you to think about them as if you knew them.
通过这些照片，我把你放在这些瞬间的正中央，让你思考它们，就像你知道它们一样。
This body of work is a historical document,
这些作品是历史文献，
a time capsule that can teach us not only about migration, but about society and ourselves.
一个不仅告诉我们了解移民，而且包括社会和我们自己的时间胶囊。
I started the project in the year 2000.
我在2000年时开始这个项目。
The migrant trail has taught me how we treat our most vulnerable residents in the United States.
移民之路告诉了我我们如何对待在美国最脆弱的居民。
It has taught me about violence and pain and hope and resilience and struggle and sacrifice.
它告诉了我暴力、痛苦、希望、坚强、挣扎和牺牲。
It has taught me firsthand that rhetoric and political policy directly impact real people.
它教会了我第一手的知识，言论和政治政策直接影响到现实生活中的人。
And most of all, the migrant trail has taught me that everyone who embarks on it is changed forever.
最重要的是，移民之路教会我每个踏上这条路的人都会被永远改变。
I began this project in the year 2000 by documenting a group of day laborers on Chicago's Northwest side.
我在2000年通过记录芝加哥西北部的一群日工开始这个项目。
Each day, the men would wake up at 5am, go to a McDonald's,
每天，人们早上5点起来，来到麦当劳餐厅外面呆着，
where they would stand outside and wait to jump into strangers' work vans, in the hopes of finding a job for the day.
等着跳进陌生人的工作车，希望能找到今天的工作。
They earned five dollars an hour, had no job security, no health insurance and were almost all undocumented.
他们每小时赚5美金，没有工作保障，没有医疗保障，并且几乎全是黑户。
The men were all pretty tough. They had to be.
他们都很坚强。他们得坚强。
The police constantly harassed them for loitering, as they made their way each day.
警察不断地骚扰他们，因为他们每天都在路上闲逛。
Slowly, they welcomed me into their community.
慢慢的，他们接纳我加入他们的群体。
And this was one of the first times that I consciously used my camera as a weapon.
这是我第一次有意识地使用我的相机作为武器。
One day, as the men were organizing to make a day-labor worker center,
有一天，当工人们正在组织建立一个日工中心时，
a young man named Tomas came up to me and asked me will I stay afterwards and photograph him.
一个名叫托马斯的年轻人走过来问我愿不愿意留下来拍摄他。
So I agreed. As he walked into the middle of the empty dirt lot, a light summer rain started to fall.
我同意了。当他走到空地中间时，一场夏日小雨开始落下。
Much to my surprise, he started to take off his clothes.
让我吃惊的是，他开始脱下衣服。
I didn't exactly know what to do.
我不知道应该做什么。
He pointed to the sky and said, "Our bodies are all we have."
他指向天空说，“我们的身体就是我们的全部。”
He was proud, defiant and vulnerable, all at once.
他很骄傲，很勇敢，很脆弱，全集在一起。
And this remains one of my favorite photographs of the past 20 years.
这张是过去20年中我自己最钟爱的照片之一。
His words have stuck with me ever since.
从那以后，他的话一直困扰着我。
I met Lupe Guzman around the same time,
大约在那个时候，我遇见了卢佩·古兹曼，
while she was organizing and fighting the day-labor agencies which were exploiting her and her coworkers.
当时她正在组织和对抗那些剥削她和她的同事的日工机构。
She organized small-scale protests, sit-ins and much more.
她组织了小规模的抗议、静坐等活动。
She paid a high price for her activism, because the day-labor agencies like Ron's blackballed her and refused to give her work.
她为自己的激进付出了高昂的代价，因为像Ron's这样的日工中介拒绝给她工作。
So in order to survive, she started selling elotes, or corn on the cob, on the street, as a street vendor.
所以为了生存，她开始在街上作为街头小贩卖墨西哥玉米棒。
And today, you can still find her selling all types of corn and different candies and stuff.
今天，你仍然可以看到她在卖各种各样的玉米和糖果之类的东西。
Lupe brought me into the inner world of her family and showed me the true impact of migration.
卢佩带我进入了她的内部世界她的家庭，让我看到了移民的真实影响。
She introduced me to everyone in her extended family, Gabi, Juan, Conchi, Chava, everyone.
她把我介绍给了她大家庭里的每个人，Gabi，Juan，Conchi，Chava，每一个人。
Her sister Remedios had married Anselmo, whose eight of nine siblings had migrated from Mexico to Chicago in the nineties.
她的妹妹雷麦黛丝嫁给了安塞尔莫，他的9个兄弟姐妹中有8个在90年代从墨西哥移民到了芝加哥。
So many people in her family opened their world to me and shared their stories.
她家庭中的很多人向我敞开了他们的内心世界并且分享了他们的故事。
Families are the heart and lifeblood of the migrant trail.
家庭是移民之路的心脏和命脉。
When these families migrate, they change and transform societies.
当这些家庭迁移时，他们改变和变革了社会。
It's rare to be able to access so intimately the intimate and day-to-day lives of people who, by necessity, are closed to outsiders.
能够如此亲密地接触到那些人的日常生活实属罕见因为他们必须与外界隔离。
At the time, Lupe's family lived in the insular world of the Back of the Yards, a tight-knit Chicago neighborhood,
那时，卢佩一家住在后院里这个与世隔绝的世界，这是一个关系密切的芝加哥社区，
which for more than 100 years had been a portal of entry for recent immigrants
100多年来，它一直是新移民的入口，
first, from Europe, like my family, and more recently, from Latin America.
首先，来自欧洲的移民，比如我的家庭，最近，则来自拉丁美洲。
Their world was largely hidden from view.
他们的世界很大程度上是隐藏在人们的视线之外。
And they call the larger, white world outside the neighborhood "Gringolandia."
他们把社区外更大的白人世界称为“外国佬”。

You know, like lots of generations moving to the Back of the Yards,
就像很多代搬到后院的家庭一样，
the family did the thankless hidden jobs that most people didn't want to do:
这些家庭做着大多数人不想做的吃力不讨好的工作：
cleaning office buildings, preparing airline meals in cold factories, meat packing, demolitions.
清理办公楼，在寒冷的工厂准备飞机餐，肉类包装、拆除。
It was hard manual labor for low exploitation wages.
这些剥削工资的低收入高体力活。
But on weekends, they celebrated together, with backyard barbecues and birthday celebrations,
但在周末，他们共同庆祝，在后院烧烤和生日庆祝派对，
like most working families the world over.
就跟世界上大多数工薪阶层一样。
I became an honorary family member.
我成为了一名荣誉家庭成员。
My nickname was "Johnny Canales," after the Tejano TV star.
我的绰号是“约翰尼·卡纳莱斯”，以特哈诺电视明星的名字命名。
I had access to the dominant culture, so I was part family photographer,
我接触到了主流文化，所以我既是家庭摄影师，
part social worker and part strange outsider payaso clown, who was there to amuse them.
也是社会工作者，还是个有点奇怪的局外人帕亚索小丑在那里逗他们。
One of the most memorable moments of this time was photographing the birth of Lupe's granddaughter, Elizabeth.
这段时间中一个最值得回忆的场景是拍摄卢佩孙女伊丽莎白的出生。
Her two older siblings had crossed across the Sonoran Desert, being carried and pushed in strollers into the United States.
她的两个哥哥姐姐曾穿过索诺兰沙漠，在婴儿车中被推着进入美国。
So at that time, her family allowed me to photograph her birth.
所以那时，她的家人允许我拍摄她的诞生。
And it was one of the really coolest things as the nurses placed baby Elizabeth on Gabi's chest.
这真是一件很酷的事情，当护士把婴儿伊丽莎白放在加比的胸前时。
She was the family's first American citizen. That girl is 17 today.
她是家庭中首个美国公民。这个女孩今天17岁了。
And I still remain in close contact with Lupe and much of her family.
我仍然跟卢佩和她家庭的大多成员保持紧密联系。
My work is firmly rooted in my own family's history of exile and subsequent rebirth in the United States.
我的作品深深植根于我自己家族在美国的流亡和随后的重生的历史。
My father was born in Nazi Germany in 1934.
我父亲出生在1934年的纳粹德国。
Like most assimilated German Jews, my grandparents simply hoped that the troubles of the Third Reich would blow over.
像大多数被同化的德国犹太人一样，我的祖父母只是希望第三帝国的麻烦会过去。
But in spring of 1939, a small but important event happened to my family.
但在1939年的春天，一件很小但很重要的事情发生在我的家庭中。
My dad needed an appendectomy.
我爸爸需要做阑尾切除术。
And because he was Jewish, not one hospital would operate on him.
因为他是犹太人，没有医院愿意为他做手术。
The operation was carried out on his kitchen table, on the family's kitchen table.
手术是在他的厨房桌子上做的，没错，在家里厨房桌子上进行的。
Only after understanding the discrimination they faced did my grandparents make the gut-wrenching decision
只有在理解了他们所面临的歧视之后，我的祖父母才做出了这个痛苦的决定，
to send their two children on the Kindertransport bound for England.
送他们两个上幼儿园的孩子去英国。
My family's survival has informed my deep commitment to telling this migration story in a deep and nuanced way.
我的家族的幸存让我下定决心，要以一种深刻而微妙的方式讲述这个移民故事。
The past and the present are always interconnected.
过去和现在总是相互联系的。
The long-standing legacy of the US government's involvement in Latin America is controversial and well-documented.
美国政府介入拉美事务的长期遗留问题是有争议的，而且有充分的文件证明。
The 1954 CIA-backed coup of arbenz in Guatemala, the Iran-Contra scandal, the School of the Americas,
1954年CIA支持危地马拉的阿尔本斯政变、伊朗门丑闻、美洲学校、
the murder of Archbishop Romero on the steps of a San Salvador church are all examples of this complex history,
大主教罗梅罗在圣萨尔瓦多教堂台阶上被谋杀，都是这段复杂历史的例子，
a history which has led to instability and impunity in Central America.
这段历史导致中美洲不稳定和失去法制。
Luckily, the history is not unremittingly dark.
幸运的是，历史不是始终黑暗。
The United States and Mexico took in thousands and millions, actually, of refugees escaping the civil wars of the 70s and 80s.
美国和墨西哥接收了成千上万逃离70年代和80年代内战的难民。
But by the time I was documenting the migrant trail in Guatemala in the late 2000s,
但当我在2000年代末记录危地马拉的移民经历时，
most Americans had no connection to the increasing levels of violence, impunity and migration in Central America.
大多数美国人与中美洲不断增加的暴力、无法无天和移徙已经没有任何关系。
To most US citizens, it might as well have been the Moon.
对大多数美国公民来说，它就像月亮一样。
Over the years, I slowly pieced together the complicated puzzle
多年来，我慢慢地拼凑起这个从中美洲一直延伸到墨西哥，
that stretched from Central America through Mexico to my backyard in Chicago.
一直延伸到我在芝加哥的后院的复杂拼图。
I hit almost all the border towns -- Brownsville, Reynosa, McAllen, Yuma, Calexico
我几乎走遍了所有的边境城镇--布朗斯维尔、雷诺萨、麦卡伦、尤马、加利西哥，
recording the increasing militarization of the border.
记录了边境日益军事化的情况。
Each time I returned, there was more infrastructure, more sensors, more fences, more Border Patrol agents
每次我回来，我们有了更多的基础设施，更多的传感器，更多的围栏，更多的边境巡逻人员，
and more high-tech facilities with which to incarcerate the men, women and children who our government detained.
以及更多的高科技设施来关押我们政府拘留的男女老少。
Post-9/11, it became a huge industry.
后911时代，它变成了一个巨大的产业。
I photographed the massive and historic immigration marches in Chicago,
我拍摄了芝加哥大规模的历史性移民游行，
children at detention facilities and the slow percolating rise of anti-immigrant hate groups, including sheriff Joe Arpaio in Arizona.
拘留中心的儿童以及反移民仇恨团体的缓慢崛起，包括亚利桑那州的警长乔·阿帕洛。
I documented the children in detention facilities, deportation flights and a lot of different things.
我记录了拘留所的孩子们，驱逐出境航班和很多不一样的东西。
I witnessed the rise of the Mexican drug war and the deepening levels of social violence in Central America.
我目睹了墨西哥毒品战争的兴起以及中美洲不断加剧的社会暴力。
I came to understand how interconnected all these disparate elements were and how interconnected we all are.
我开始理解所有这些不同的元素是如何相互联系的，以及我们所有人是如何相互联系的。
As photographers, we never really know which particular moment will stay with us or which particular person will be with us.
作为摄影师，我们从不真正知道哪个特别的瞬间会伴随我们，或者哪个独特的人会跟着我们。
The people we photograph become a part of our collective history.
我们拍摄的人成为我们集体历史的一部分。
Jerica Estrada was a young eight-year-old girl whose memory has stayed with me.
杰瑞卡·埃斯特拉达是一个八岁的小女孩，她的记忆一直萦绕着我。
Her father had gone to LA in order to work to support his family.
她父亲去洛杉矶工作来支持家庭。
And like any dutiful father, he returned home to Guatemala, bearing gifts.
像所有尽职的父亲一样，他带着礼物回到危地马拉的家中。
That weekend, he had presented his eldest son with a motorcycle -- a true luxury.
那个周末，他送给大儿子一辆摩托车--真是个奢侈的礼物。
As the son was driving the father back home from a family party, a gang member rode up and shot the dad through the back.
当孩子载着父亲从家庭聚会中回家时，一个帮派骑车过来开枪击中了父亲的后背。
It was a case of mistaken identity, an all too common occurrence in this country.
这是一个杀错人的案子，在这个国家却是司空见惯。
But the damage was done. The bullet passed through the father and into the son.
但伤害是不可避免的。子弹穿过父亲进入儿子身体。
This was not a random act of violence, but one instance of social violence in a region of the world where this has become the norm.
这里并不存在随机的暴力行为，而是在这个暴力已经成为常态的地区中一个社会暴力缩影。
Impunity thrives when all the state and governmental institutions fail to protect the individual.
当所有国家和政府机构无法保护个人时，无法无天的现象就会猖獗起来。
Too often, the result forces people to leave their homes and flee and take great risks in search of safety.
往往，结果就是驱使人们离开他们的家乡，逃离家园，冒着巨大的风险寻求安全。
Jerica's father died en route to the hospital.
杰瑞卡的父亲在去医院的路上去世了。
His body had saved his son's life.
他的身体救了他孩子的命。
As we arrived to the public hospital, to the gates of the public hospital,
当我们到达公立医院，到达公立医院的门口时，
I noticed a young girl in a pink striped shirt, screaming.
我注意到一个穿着粉红色条纹衬衫的年轻女孩在尖叫。
Nobody comforted the little girl as she clasped her tiny hands.
小女孩紧握着小手，没人去安慰她。
She was the man's youngest daughter, her name was Jerica Estrada.
她是这个父亲最小的女儿，她的名字叫杰瑞卡·埃斯特拉达。
She cried and raged, and nobody could do anything, for her father was gone.
她又哭又闹，然而谁也帮不上忙，因为她父亲已经走了。
These days, when people ask me why young mothers with four-month-old babies
这阵子，当人们问我为什么怀孕4个月的年轻母亲
will travel thousands of miles, knowing they will likely be imprisoned in the United States, I remember Jerica,
在知道会被关在美国的情况下仍然还会穿越几千里过来，我想起了杰瑞卡，
and I think of her and of her pain and of her father who saved his son's life with his own body,
我想起了她和她的痛苦，以及她那用身躯救了儿子生命的父亲，
and I understand the truly human need to migrate in search of a better life. Thank you.
我懂得了移民去寻找更好的生活这是人类真正需求。谢谢。