There were pieces of graffiti in every language, such as: "My name is Juan, I'm from Colombia, I only wanted a better life. Time went by and I returned to England. I worked in an Italian restaurant, saved up some money, and travelled. Years later I returned to Europe, specifically to Madrid, and did the same: I worked, I saved money, I studied photography a little, and without knowing where my work as a photographer was leading, I began to photograph African and East Indian immigrants. On my return to Mexico, I learned about the Central American immigrants who travel to the United States on freight trains. I began to explore the lives in rehabilitation of those who had lost limbs after falling off the trains in which they were traveling. The project grew and I decided to move to the southern border between Mexico and Guatemala. At that point I realized the problem goes beyond the question of a physical frontier and a group of immigrants boarding trains to the United States. I travelled to Honduras for the first time, and spent four years learning why Guatemala, Honduras, and El Salvador have become the principal exporters of workers to the United States.