On the fourth night in the Panama rainforest, an exhausted Ximen decided to set up camp where he stood. He had sprained his leg climbing up the mountain. He picked up a few sheets from the muddy roadside, tied them to a tree to build a shelter, and lay down. “I counted five downpours on and off that night,” said Ximen, a pseudonym to protect the safety and privacy of him and his family. Beside him was a dilapidated single-person tent, in which his wife, their 10-year-old daughter and 11-year-old son were sleeping. "The tent couldn't withstand the wind and rain, and it quickly collapsed. I had no choice but to squeeze in and use my hands to prop up the roof of the tent and wait for dawn." Raindrops pelted his palms through the meager fabric. This was early September 2022. Less than a month before, Ximen, 37, his wife and their two children left their home in Foshan, Guangdong, passing through Macau, Hong Kong, Ecuador, and Colombia before entering the Panama rainforest. Their destination was the U.S.. If they could make it out of the rainforest, they would continue northward, cross the entirety of Central America, and finally cross the new border wall between Mexico and California. Between January 2022 and the end of March 2023, at least 5,860 Chinese nationals took the same journey as Ximen’s family. They call this route of illegally entering the United States via South America by land "walking the line." The world's most dangerous migration route The Panama rainforest Ximen had to navigate is the Darien Gap, located at the junction of South and Central America. It connects Panama in the north with Colombia in the south. It is about 100 kilometers (62 miles) long, mostly consisting of large swamps and forests without roads. For many years, drug cartels, armed anti-government groups, and bandit forces commingled there. It is considered one of the most dangerous immigration routes in the world. The once inaccessible Darien Gap has become a well-known way to illegally immigrate into the United States in recent years. In 2022, more than two million immigrants crossed the U.S. southern border, and about one-tenth went through the Darien Gap. Nearly 250,000 migrants crossed the Darien Gap last year—more than double the total of the previous decade, according to Panamanian government statistics. In addition to those from Venezuela, Haiti, and other South American countries, there are also immigrants from countries such as Afghanistan and India, with the vast majority of them destined for the United States. Recently, more and more Chinese faces have appeared on this route so familiar to South Americans. Last year, at least 2,005 Chinese traversed the Panama rainforest. In just the first three months of this year, 3,855 Chinese people illegally crossed the border, the fourth largest group, according to Panamanian government statistics. Most of them are men, but there is no shortage of women and families with children. "It's a fairly quick trek if you're traveling solo, but if you're traveling with a family like us, it's slower and It's just a matter of time," Ximen said. It took his family just over two months, from flying out of China to finally entering the United States. "South Americans take their infants to walk the line, what are you afraid of? Everyone has the right to choose a happy life," a fellow "line friend" wrote on Twitter. ‘All Chinese who can vote with their feet should leave’ Before the pandemic, Ximen worked in a homebuilding materials business in Guangdong. He is no stranger to the red line of censorship. A few years ago, he joined some WeChat groups discussing historical and social issues. Whenever sensitive topics were brought up, the group would be blocked. "My own WeChat account has also been blocked several times." But what solidified Ximen’s decision to leave China was the strict zero-Covid policy in the late stage of the pandemic. "Many of my friends' companies closed down, but you don't see these things in the news," he said. "Everyone was scared about pandemic prevention, the economy, and the future." After the city-wide lockdown of Shanghai, topics related to "run" and "emigration" aroused widespread attention on the Chinese internet. However, the typical immigration pathways discussed such as studying abroad and investment were not realistic for Ximen. Then in June, Ximen saw on Douyin [the Chinese domestic version of TikTok] and Telegram someone sharing their experience of applying for asylum in the United States after crossing by land from South America. He made up his mind, deciding to take his family with him. Over the next two months, after persuading his wife, they packed up their belongings together. For fear of scaring the two children, he decided not to tell them the purpose of the trip. "The children thought it was just a summer vacation trip and didn't know that they were going to emigrate to the United States, let alone go across a rainforest on foot." A few weeks later, watching the two children share one last piece of bread in the rainforest in their soaking wet clothes, Ximen felt "guilt, heartache, but no regrets." He said, "Under this system, the Chinese who can vote with their feet should all leave." While Ximen’s family was still trekking across the rainforest, Tianwei, another Chinese national who came to the United States by “walking the line,” had just settled down in California. He recalled the various life paths he had tried out in the past few years and “walking the line” seemed the most implausible path. Tianwei, when he was in his early twenties, had been a policeman for five years in his hometown of Shandong. "I'm a beneficiary of the system. If it wasn't for the mishap, I might have never left." The incident occurred in the summer of 2019. "The Hong Kong anti-extradition law movement had started in March and April. During that time, I went outside the Great Firewall and read a lot of articles [not available on China's censored internet]. If you only paid attention to the domestic media, your views on Hong Kong would be very one-sided. But in fact, normal people outside the firewall know what was happening in Hong Kong, why millions of people took to the streets," he said. "I felt that staying in the public security system was just a habit of life, and in my heart, I didn’t agree anymore with this system and career choice." At that time, as a police academy graduate student, he criticized China's diplomacy and public security system on Weibo. His remarks were exposed by a blogger, and the Internet police found the school, so he was expelled. "I didn't voluntarily leave the system. If it wasn't for this incident, I wouldn't have had the courage to leave." After dropping out of school, Tianwei had the idea of going abroad and even applied for a passport, but at that time he didn't have the money to do it. Over the next three years, Tianwei tried out various pursuits. "I kept giving myself and my family hope, saying that I would find a stable job, and I even thought about taking the judicial examination, because this system is so strong, always pulling you back in." During the pandemic, Tianwei lost his job and finally made up his mind to leave. In the beginning of 2022, he heard that some sailors were illegally entering Canada by "jumping ship," so he went to sign up for a sailor training course. During the training period, by chance on Telegram he saw someone sharing information on “walking the line." "I thought it was a fantasy at first. But gradually after seeing more and more success stories, I thought this was a more practical way." At the end of June, Tianwei borrowed 70,000 RMB ($10,200 USD) for travel expenses and embarked on a journey to South America. Embarking on a journey of no return During the pandemic many countries, including the United States, suspended visa channels or made approval conditions more stringent. In fiscal year 2021 (from Oct. 1, 2020 to Sept. 30, 2021), the United States rejected 79% of tourist visa applications from China. In South America, Ecuador has one of the most relaxed visa policies in the world, and citizens of most countries, including China, can enter without a visa. Therefore, Ecuador has become the starting point for most people who plan to "walk the line." Flight restrictions are a major trial. There are very few flights to Ecuador from mainland China, and many people choose to go through Southeast Asia or Europe, and then continue halfway around the world to South America. Next, most "line friends" will take a bus from Quito, the capital of Ecuador, to neighboring Colombia. "Once you cross the border, you no longer have legal status, so there is no going back," recalled Tianwei. In a Chinese Telegram group, “line friends” share detailed routing strategies, including how to leave the country, where to exchange money on the road, where to find a guide, where to camp in the rainforest, and even how much money should be paid to bribe the police when passing through certain countries. "Prepare a return ticket and find one that can refund the full amount, it doesn't matter if it's more expensive"; "Buy a ticket for $7 at Quito North Station to Tulcán...spend $400 to travel from Necoclí to the rainforest."; "There is no need to pack a lot when entering the rainforest, just a small bag, just bring enough to eat,." read the messages on Telegram. Photojournalist Carlos Villalon, who focuses on immigration issues and has reported on the Darien Gap for a long time, noticed that Chinese immigrants were well prepared to cross the rainforest. "Chinese usually go in small groups, mostly young and middle-aged, carrying professional hiking bags, knowing where to find guides, and helping each other so as not to fall behind." But in the rainforest, accidents can happen at any time. On the fourth day after entering the rainforest, Ximen's family had just climbed over a mountain, only to find that due to continuous rain and flooding, the original small stream had turned into a river lying in front of them. A fellow traveler from South America helped them ford the river with Ximen and him each leading a child, struggling through the waist-deep water, while Ximen's wife followed behind with a wooden stick. As they approached the shore, the water suddenly became turbulent. The face of the South American companion changed, and he waved anxiously, signaling Ximen to move quickly. Ximen's wife was in the middle of the river, slipped and was carried downstream by the current. Ximen climbed ashore with a child and watched as his wife struggled for dozens of meters in the rapids before managing to grab a branch on the bank and staggering up to the shore. Transnational friendships on the road of life and death Tianwei met his good friend Hendrik on the journey in Colombia. He later called it "God's arrangement." "Without him, I don't know how many wrong turns I would have taken." Hendrik is from Venezuela and despite being in his 40s, he looked older with a graying beard. His wife and two children remained at home. The two men took care of each other along the way using translation software and gestures to communicate. Among those ”walking the line,” Spanish speakers account for about 70%, Africans 20%, and the remaining 10% come from various other countries. According to Tianwei, South American immigrants, especially Venezuelans, made up the majority on the route. "They have been walking this road for more than 10 years and are very experienced, but few Chinese have heard of it,” said Tianwei, a pseudonym to protect the safety and privacy of him and his family. The weather in the rainforest would change in a second; it would be sunny one second and pouring rain the next. For six days, their clothes were wet and stuck to their bodies, and their mobile phones were useless. When it came to navigating and negotiating with others, Tianwei relied on Hendrik's help. "When I was a child, I watched TV documentaries and had a dream to go to Brazil to see the Amazon rainforest. This time I came to Panama and saw what the real rainforest looks like," Tianwei said. "There were no roads at all, so we could only rely on walking, climbing over mountains and crossing rivers every day. I heard that there were bandits on the road. Luckily we didn’t encounter them.” No one knows how many people never make it out of the Darien Gap. Those who come out mostly stop at the refugee camp at the edge of the rainforest set up by the Panamanian government, where their personal details are recorded in refugee documents. "It was raining heavily that day, and I had a high fever, so I stumbled my way through the last section of the rainforest," Tianwei said. Since the United States is most people’s destination, Central American countries such as Panama will not detain them. Panamanian authorities, working with international organizations such as the Red Cross, provide the refugees with essential food and medical care before arranging buses to take them to the border with Costa Rica. After leaving the refugee camp, Tianwei and Hendrik drove north to Costa Rica together. Hendrik had hidden $800 in cash in his underwear along the way. But one day while in the car, he discovered that the money was missing and searched frantically to find it. When a Venezuelan encounters a bandit on the road demanding a bribe, he would give him five to ten dollars, and the $800 was everything Hendrik had. Tianwei said, "Before this, Hendrik was very decisive and self-reliant. This was the only time I saw him cry on the road." At the time, Tianwei had a fleeting thought, wondering if his friend would lie to him to get Tianwei to loan him some money. But he still chose to believe in his friend. As a result, on the way from the border of Costa Rica to the capital San Jose, Tianwei paid all Hendrik’s expenses. Later, Hendrik contacted his family and had them transfer the exact amount of money to pay back Tianwei. Before crossing the border from Nicaragua into Guatemala, Hendrik hired a driver who specialized in smuggling immigrants to take them across the border. The driver looked at Tianwei and said that the others had to pay $50 each, but the Chinese man would have to pay $100 because Chinese people were too conspicuous, making it more risky to pass the checkpoint. Afraid of being stopped by the border police, Tianwei got into the trunk of a car for the first time in his life and lay curled up for half an hour. It wasn't until they passed the checkpoint that everyone breathed a sigh of relief. When crossing the border from Guatemala into Mexico, the migrants had to climb over the mountains to avoid checkpoints. At the top of the mountain, Tianwei developed a high fever and began to shiver. He was afraid that he had malaria, so he asked Hendrik to accompany him to the hospital to make sure. He entered his symptoms into the translation software and showed the Spanish translation to the doctor. The doctor suddenly became serious and said that he might have dengue fever, which can cause severe bleeding and even death. "I thought to myself, it's over, my American dream is over." The test results came out and fortunately it was a false alarm. That night, Tianwei's fever had not subsided, but to avoid the Mexican police, he got up at 3 a.m.. and took a car with his companions to continue northward. "Dodging police the entire way was also a matter of luck. Some policemen think that Chinese are rich, and they will ask for $200 USD. If you are South American, the bribe price is very low. Sometimes paying the money works, sometimes not,” Tianwei said. "We were lucky not to be arrested. I heard that some people were locked up for ten days or half a month, and after they came out, they had to spend more money to find smugglers to continue their journey." The final difficulty: entering the United States from Mexico More than 20 ”line friends” interviewed by WHYNOT almost unanimously said that the further north one goes, the greater the challenges they face on the road. Facing an increasingly severe refugee crisis, the U.S. government has continuously put pressure on Mexico, asking it to cooperate with U.S. immigration law enforcement to prevent immigrants from crossing the border. Many ”line friends” were stopped by police in Mexico and sent to immigration detention centers for interrogation. "The Migration National Institute also needs to complete their KPI (key performance indicators). The refugee paper issued by one province may be invalidated in another province. If caught by the Mexican police on the way, they would be sent back to the Tapachula Immigration Detention Center in the southeast," Tianwei said. In the city of Tapachula in southeastern Mexico is an infamous immigration detention center called "21st Century" (Siglo XXI), run by Mexican authorities. The detention center, which holds more than 900 people, has long been over capacity, yet the Mexican police still send immigrants intercepted on the road there for detention every day. "My room had about 12 bunk beds. Besides me there were also Venezuelans and Haitians," said a “line friend” who was detained last September. "I didn’t know if or when I would be released. That kind of unknown was the most frightening thing." The “line friend” paid $500 for a lawyer. "I never met my lawyer, but I just heard that if you pay money, you could be released early," he said. He was finally released after 12 days in detention. Yuriria Salvador, an expert at an immigrant rights organization in Tapachula, told the media that the United States and Mexico, as destinations and transit points for immigrants, do not have a comprehensive and humane response. "Instead, they responded by extending the U.S. border (law enforcement to Mexico)." After leaving Tapachula, the “line friend” bought a motorcycle for $1,100 and rode 4,000 kilometers (2,400 miles) across Mexico to the border city of Tijuana, which borders southern California. Tianwei also chose Tijuana. He took the bus from Mexico City's North Station, headed west, then north along the long coastline of the state of Sinaloa, into the barren desert along the eastern Gulf of California. Upon arriving in Baja California bordering San Diego, the stretch of the border wall became visible. "It was shocking, and I thought I might be on the other side of the wall before long," Tianwei said. On the day of his border crossing, Tianwei prepared plenty of food and water, hoping to avoid the border police, but within 10 minutes after crossing the border, he saw a car approaching. "There are infrared cameras on the top of the mountain. The police said that they can clearly see whoever crosses the border." Tianwei recalled that he was taken by the police to a border processing center. There, everyone was registered with fingerprints and identification and asked why they left their home country. "If I didn’t answer well, I would have been sent to detention centers. I was very worried that their system would check my social media and previous experience in China, and suspect that I was a spy." He said that there were more than 30 Chinese nationals who entered the processing center with him, and seven or eight of them were sent to detention centers. Fortunately, the police did not give him a hard time, and he was released two days later. Border police took him, and others released with him, to a hotel run by a Catholic charity in San Diego. There they could stay for free for two days, and then go where they wanted to go. The other side of the wall Most “line friends” choose to cross the border at Tijuana to join the huge Chinese community in southern California. After gaining his freedom, Tianwei's first stop was Ding Pangzi Plaza in Monterey Park, near Los Angeles. Monterey Park has one of the highest concentrations of Chinese communities in southern California and is the starting point for finding a job and contacting a lawyer. From there, people gradually disperse. Ximen's family lives in the Bay Area in northern California. His two children’s English has improved a lot and they are adapting to school life. Due to the surge in the number of asylum applicants in recent years, his application may take several years to be approved. During the months of waiting, the hardships on the road receded from his mind. "I hope that my children will grow up well in a place far away from dictatorship. Everything is worth it." Tianwei moved to Dallas, Texas, where the cost of living is lower. He plans to stay in Texas to work and pay off the 70,000 RMB ($10,200 USD) he borrowed for travel expenses. Continuing to survive and make money is the most pressing matter for him right now. As for the future, he has no specific ideas. Coincidentally, Hendrik, his traveling companion and friend, lives just three hours away from him by car in Austin. "His wife and two children are also on their way to the U.S., and have already made it to Tapachula, Mexico. They will probably be reunited soon," Tianwei said, feeling very relieved. "If one day I have to leave Texas, it will probably be that the asylum application has progressed. Then I’ll go to see Hendrik’s family."