After 22 years in Santa Cruz, deported handyman struggles to build a life in a Mexico he barely knows

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On his first morning back home in Mexico, Adolfo González went on a walk near his daughter’s house, where he has been staying since being deported in late January, and started to cry. 

After 22 years living in the Santa Cruz-San Jose area, the surroundings in his new home in Cuautitlán, an hour north of Mexico City, felt foreign to him. “I cried because I said to myself, how is it possible that I’m here?” the 62-year-old handyman told Lookout over the phone last week. 

Life hasn’t been kind to González in the nearly three months since he was picked up by Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents near his home in Santa Cruz, taken to a detention center for a week and later dropped off in Tijuana with only the clothes on his back and his Costco membership card. He is the first person known to have been deported from Santa Cruz County following Donald Trump’s return to the White House.

Back in Mexico, González moved into a two bedroom apartment with his 39-year-old daughter, Fabiola, along with her husband and 2-year-old daughter, and has been forced to restart his life at an age when many people are thinking about retirement. The process has been difficult for both him and his family, González said. He is still struggling to find his footing in a country that has become startlingly unfamiliar. 

“If I’m being honest, I’m not doing so great,” González said. “But I try to work. I try to do my best at work because I have a 2-year-old granddaughter and I’m trying to move forward.” 

It’s a different kind of life in Mexico compared to Santa Cruz, with more crime, he told Lookout in Spanish. The process of finding a job and a steady income to continue supporting his family, as he did when he lived in Santa Cruz, hasn’t been smooth sailing for him, either. 

González said that he reminded himself in those first few days that he was reunited with his family to put his best foot forward, forget California and start from scratch. “I’m learning how to live in Mexico, and sometimes I can’t help but laugh at some of the learning experiences I have,” he said. 

A failed business idea, and working without pay

Those experiences include a series of setbacks. González said his former employer, whom he had worked for throughout the entirety of his time in Santa Cruz, sent him $2,000 to help him out. With that money, González bought a 2017 Chevrolet Sonic as an investment for his next job. He planned to become an Uber driver, González said. At 62, this job would be much easier for him physically than his previous job as a handyman. 

Unfortunately, his plans did not go as expected. He couldn’t complete the application process because the identification number on his voter credentials did not match the one on his driver’s license, he said. Some jobs in Mexico ask for various forms of documentation, like a voter ID, to verify a person’s identity. 

So he came up with a quick solution to still make some cash while he waits for his new voter credential to come in the mail, which is expected to take a few months. González rented out his car to another Uber driver to use, he said. Under this arrangement, he would receive 3,000 pesos — the equivalent of about $149 in the U.S. — weekly from the driver. 

That business venture lasted only a week. The driver González had rented his car out to was involved in a crash, heavily damaging the vehicle. “That was a deep hit for my family and I because from that I was going to be able to earn some money,” he said. 

The only silver lining of the whole situation is that González’s Chevrolet was insured. He said the insurance company is currently investigating whether the car is a total loss or if there’s some hope of repairing it. 

When Lookout spoke with González, he was in the midst of finishing a home renovation project for a family friend. Despite the project keeping him busy, González is not getting paid for his labor, he said. The plan is that once his family friend either rents or sells the house, Gonzalez will be paid with the income his friend makes from the project, he said. 

Each morning, González makes the journey from his daughter’s apartment in Cuautitlán to Jorobas — a town 15 miles outside of Cuautitlán — for work. Since his car is out of commission, Gonzalez has to take the bus, he said, which is about a 40-minute ride. The commute is even longer when he returns home from work in the evenings as he has to take a taxi since the bus he rides does not go all the way into Cuatitlán at night.  

Just to commute to and from work, González is spending about 80 pesos, which would be the equivalent to about $3.95 in the United States. While that might not seem like much to someone living in Santa Cruz, for González, who currently isn’t earning a wage, every peso counts. 

‘If they close one door, I can knock on two more‘

González was living a comfortable life as a handyman in Santa Cruz, he originally told Lookout in February. “In California, when I worked in construction, I would get paid every Friday,” he said. “I would send money to my family, so they could get what they needed. Now that I’ve been deported, it’s been difficult.” 

González said he feels stuck and defeated because he can now see what his family needs, such as food and clothes, but isn’t able to help them in the same way he used to. Every week since he’s been back in Mexico, González has been able to contribute to the weekly grocery bill. He fears that he won’t be able to do so after this week, now that the money from his brief business venture has dried up.  

“Last week, I was still able to give my share of the costs,” González said. “For this upcoming Saturday, I won’t have anything to give.” 

Fabiola, his daughter, tries to reassure him that it’s no big deal, and that she and her husband are able to take care of the household costs. “I feel bad because I’m used to being responsible, to take care of my home, to take care of my daughter, my granddaughter,” he said. 

There have been plenty of moments during the past three months when González has felt depressed and upset, he said. But he tries his best to not let Fabiola see what he’s going through mentally. 

He tries to maintain a positive outlook on life. González said he knows he’ll find a job in the near future, after completing the renovation project. He already has a plan to create business cards to give out at Home Depot and offer his handyman services while he waits for his car to get fixed. 

Helping his family friend repair her home has helped González’s mental health. He feels an immense pride being able to offer his skills to people, even if he’s not getting paid for his work, González said. 

“When someone can provide help to people, go help, without expecting something in return,” González said. It reminds him of when people helped him in Santa Cruz simply because they wanted to, whether financially or through recommending his services to acquaintances to hire a handyman.

“I have to keep moving forward. If they close one door, I can knock on two more. If they close two doors on me, I can knock on three more,” González said. “One door will eventually open for me and I’ll find a good job.” 

Debating a return to Santa Cruz

Since he’s been in Mexico, González has received some help from his former employer and a few other friends, he said. Lately, he has been trying to connect with other friends and people he knows in Santa Cruz for potential financial help, and searching for contact information for almost everyone he had saved on his phone. 

Friends whom González has been able to contact have not returned his calls, which he feels sad about, he said. “Those friends would tell me, ‘The day something happens, you can count on us. We’ll help you,'” González said. “And now that this happened, I don’t know, maybe they don’t want to help me. I don’t know what happened.” 

While he knows he can lean on a certain group of friends he considers to be like family, including his former boss, González said they’ve already helped him enough. He doesn’t want to burden them with his problems more than he has. But he’s grateful for all the support they have provided him since his deportation, giving him words of encouragement each time González speaks with them over the phone, he said.  

Little by little, González is connecting with his friends back in Santa Cruz, he said. Each time he finds one contact, González asks them to see if they can find another friend based on the basic details he knows about them, like where they work or where he has met them.

In February, friends told González they were going to sell his belongings he left behind in Santa Cruz, such as his truck, clothes and the power tools he had accumulated over the years, to raise some money to send to him. He’s not sure if the garage sale happened, he said.  

González said initially he had sworn off returning to Santa Cruz, after being told by ICE agents that he could be thrown in jail if he encountered any kind of law enforcement. But now, he’s weighing his options in hopes of making his way back to California next year.

“Look, I do want to return, but I need to see if I can get a visa,” González said. If he’s not able to acquire a visa — which might be more difficult now that he’s been deported — González is also entertaining the idea of crossing the border illegally. 

But before he makes that journey again, González wants to spend Christmas and New Year’s with his daughter. It’s been 22 years since he’s been able to spend a holiday season with his daughter and her family, González said, and he wants to experience that at least one more time before he returns to Santa Cruz. 

González said he’s already had conversations with family members, including his daughter and son-in-law, about how he wants to leave Mexico. They understand his perspective. “They see that I’m sad being here in Mexico, and that I’m not comfortable here,” he said. “I miss California a lot. I miss my friends a lot.” 

If he isn’t able to find a stable job or acquire a U.S. visa, González said he’ll be left with no choice but to either make the journey through the desert along the border or pay a coyote — a person who smuggles immigrants to the United States — in order to return. 

The idea of returning to California scares him, González said. He understands the dangers he might face if he chooses to travel through the border — like dehydration, starvation and heatstroke — or paying a smuggler to get into the United States, but he’s willing to do it for the sake of helping his family financially. 

“But, I will tell you one thing. What’s more important is one’s own needs,” González said. “The need to earn a cent more and continue supporting one’s family.” 

Plus, he said, he misses every aspect of his life in Santa Cruz from his job to the people he surrounded himself with, he said. “The No. 1 thing I miss the most is my job. I was happy working near the ocean, in the mountains and seeing the deer,” he said. “It was such a beautiful thing.”

Ginnette Riquelme contributed reporting to this story.

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