How a bar became a haven for Muslim migrants in Mexico: NPR
Toya Sarno Jordan
TIJUANA, Mexico – Six miles from the US-Mexico border, Muslims gather to pray in the fragrance of an-oud flowers. The prayer room is located in a two-story, 8,000-square-foot refugee shelter, complete with a sub-tower and a blue dome.
It was a sign to the Muslims who came to the city from all over the world in search of a new life elsewhere.
“When they come here … they feel comfortable,” said Sonia García, president of the Latina Islamic Foundation, which runs the shelter.
The shelter offers several services: legal assistance, medical care, language and Quran classes. There are separate zones for men and women with bunk beds. There is also another room to isolate people when they are sick.
The building was converted from an event space once used for quinceañeras and birthday parties. It has a commercial kitchen and a dining area. Musalla where local Muslims and residents worshiped used to be a bar.
Toya Sarno Jordan / NPR
Toya Sarno Jordan
“It used to be a drinking place… We speak from haram to halal,” joked García.
A few years ago, when García was volunteering at another migrant shelter, she noticed women wearing headscarves. That got her thinking about creating a space where Muslims can feel more comfortable. A place where they can pray five times a day and be served halal meals.
The women she saw that day were from Somalia. But since the shelter opened in June, García has welcomed people from Yemen, Afghanistan and Russia.
García says that there are not many Muslims in Mexico. She estimates there are about 100 people in Tijuana and nearby Rosarito. “Enough to know that we are growing,” she said. García herself converted to Islam from Catholicism.
Mexico is a majority Christian country. Follow Mexican government census 2020, about 78% of the population identify as Catholic and 11% as Protestant/Christian. Only 0.2% identify with other religions, including Islam.
Toya Sarno Jordan
Toya Sarno Jordan / NPR
While Mexico is predominantly Catholic, García said the local community has been receptive to the Muslim shelter. “They respect that we have certain rules — how we pray, how we eat, how we live,” she said.
Many of those in shelters have left their homelands because of political persecution and war. “They don’t want to leave,” said García. “But if something is dangerous… they have no choice. They have to leave.”
Some who came to the shelter were traumatized by what they had experienced back home. “Especially the kids,” said García. “When they got here in Mexico, they were so scared that they didn’t want to leave the room.”
It can take months to build trust with a child. She said that some of them refused to talk and others had anger issues. But she sympathizes with them.
“Imagine hearing bombs, gunfire every day,” says García.
The shelter offers art classes and psychologists to try to help them cope. Refugees mostly learn about shelters through word of mouth and social media.
García also spoke with the directors of other shelters in Mexico to invite Muslims to her. She told them, “If you see someone praying on the floor, [who] don’t eat pork, anyone with a headscarf… send them to us. “
For García, hope is about making people feel safe and secure during some of the most difficult times of their lives.
Toya Sarno Jordan / NPR