Gay man killed after refugee claim denied
CRIME / Murder in Mexico
Tamara Letkeman / Xtra West / Friday, July 06, 2007

http://www.xtra.ca/public/viewstory.aspx?AFF_TYPE=1&STORY_ID=3287&PUB_TEMPLATE_ID=2

Friends of a former Vancouver resident murdered in Mexico whose refugee claim was rejected by Canada are claiming he was killed because he was gay, and calling into question this country's attitude toward queer refugees seeking asylum.

Enrique Villegas, 35, was found dead in his apartment in Mexico City Apr 7, just over four years after his refugee claim — which he made based on his sexual orientation — was denied by the Canadian Immigration and Refugee Board (IRB).

Mexican police say the murder was the work of drug traffickers, as reported by Univision.com, a Spanish-language news website, but close friends of Villegas in Vancouver are not convinced.

"He was sweet. He didn't smoke, he didn't drink. He was a very clean person, very healthy," says Martina Cordero, who knew Villegas for seven years.

"The police linked the murder to drug trafficking because many of Mexico's drug dealers are from [the state of] Sinaloa, where Enrique was from," says Alfredo Serrano, who also knew Villegas for seven years.

Villegas was also shot in the back of the neck, a style of execution favoured by drug dealers, adds Serrano.

But he and Cordero — who spoke on the phone to Villegas every day until shortly before his death — believe their friend's sexual orientation was a key factor in his murder.

Serrano describes how, a few days before he was killed, Villegas told him he had started "dating" someone, a homeless man without a job. Serrano says Villegas, who "wanted to help everyone all the time," told him he had taken the man to his restaurant to help him do some work, and planned to take him to his apartment afterwards. That was the last time they spoke.

Four days later, Villegas' body was discovered.

"According to the doctors, he was dead for two or three days," Serrano says. "There is no chance that somebody broke in. [The murderer] had to be somebody he let in. He was living in a very secure apartment complex."

Serrano and Cordero believe the man in question latched onto Villegas once he found out he was gay in order to exploit him.

"In Mexico it can be dangerous for people to reveal they are gay. When you say something different to other people, they try to take advantage of you," Serrano says. "We are very sure there is a link with this guy without a job, without a place to stay."

Despite repeated attempts, a police spokesperson could not be reached in Mexico City for comment on the case.

Majority of queer Mexicans not granted refugee status, group says

Villegas, who lived in Vancouver for several years, returned to Mexico after Canada rejected his refugee claim in February 2003.

"He felt so sad," says Serrano. "He came here because he said he felt safe here."

The IRB will not release the details of a particular claimant's case, but Chris Morrissey, a local immigration consultant, says refugee claims made by queer Mexicans are usually denied.

"The majority of cases have not been successful," says Morrissey, who is also a volunteer with the Rainbow Refugee Committee, a non-profit group offering support to queer refugee claimants.

Morrissey explains that in order to be granted refugee status, claimants must prove, among other things, that they have a well-founded fear of persecution in their country. Morrissey says this can be difficult for Mexicans as there is nothing in Mexican law that prohibits having sex with same-sex partners.

"Much of it depends on whether you have personally been threatened and if it would continue if you went back to your country," she says. "You have to be able to demonstrate this."

Melissa Anderson, senior communications advisor for the IRB, says Mexicans who are being persecuted because of their sexual orientation have the option to move to another region of their country where they will presumably be safe.

"There is a persuasive decision that argues homosexual refugee claimants have an in-country flight alternative in Mexico City to escape persecution for their sexual orientation," Anderson says.

"Persuasive decisions" have been identified by the IRB as being of persuasive value in developing jurisprudence. Decision-makers are encouraged to use them in the interest of consistency.

'It's not okay to be out in everyday life'

Anderson pointed Xtra West to RefLex, the IRB's legal periodical, which offers summaries of refugee claims. The decision to deny many queer Mexicans' claims is based on the idea that Mexico City is becoming increasingly tolerant of queer culture.

"A well-organized gay movement has achieved a significant level of acceptance in one of Mexico's most Catholic and conservative cities," states a decision made Feb 25, 2005. "Though both the city and the state are governed by the centre-right and generally gay-hostile National Action Party (PAN), a political accommodation has been reached, significantly improving conditions for the city's homosexual population."

But Pat MacDiarmid, who also volunteers with the Rainbow Refugee Committee, says despite increased tolerance, Mexico can be a dangerous place for queers.

"In theory, it's not against the law to be queer, but it can be quite oppressive — it's not okay to be out in everyday life," she maintains. "They can court danger just by being themselves."

Queer refugees allege harassment by Mexican police

Serrano and Cordero are both familiar with this scenario, having both successfully claimed refugee status here after fleeing alleged police persecution in Mexico. Serrano says he left his country with his partner after police began harassing them and extorting money from them after they were seen leaving a gay bar in Mexico City.

Cordero left after police allegedly threatened her life when they discovered she was transgendered.

"The police can make your life a nightmare," claims Serrano, who worked as a reporter in the pressroom of the Mexico City police department for 11 years. "They see you as a resource to get money. They threaten to tell your family or your boss."

Although they believe they have information that could shed light on Villegas' murder, Serrano and Cordero say it is useless to contact Mexican police.

"When they find out the victim was gay, they say gay people deserve that," Cordero alleges.

'Don't be yourself, and you'll be okay'

Rainbow Refugee Committee volunteers say the people deciding the fate of queer refugees in Canada do not fully understand the implications of being queer in Mexico.

El-Farouk Khaki, an immigration lawyer who specializes in refugee claims based on sexual orientation, says the IRB tends to be more sympathetic to queer claimants from countries where homosexuality is illegal, but cases involving applicants from countries like Mexico are more tenuous.

"We need to look beyond what social advances have been made to the overall human rights situation to see how rights have improved for gay people," Khaki told Xtra in January. "Most Latin American countries have amazing constitutions, but that doesn't mean [they are] enforced."

"It has been determined by the powers that be that Mexico is friendly," says Morrissey. "Many people who go to Mexico don't perceive that people are persecuted over sexual orientation."

MacDiarmid concurs, adding that some tribunal members seem to think queer refugees will be able to go back to their countries and live without incident, provided they "be more discreet."

"It's like they're saying, if you don't flaunt it, you'll be fine. You've got to wonder how it's okay to suggest to someone: 'Don't be yourself, and you'll be okay.'"

So near and yet so far
IMMIGRATION / Queer & trans refugees face similar threats but separate struggles
Candace Joseph / Xtra / Thursday, July 05, 2007

In Toronto being trans and being queer are clearly two different, if potentially overlapping, experiences. But the distinctions between queer and trans become less meaningful in places where homophobia is more prevalent.

"For 20 years back home I've been facing discrimination from society, even my own family," says Mexican-born Leonardo Zuniga, who is currently seeking refugee status in Canada. "I'm kind of an effeminate person, so even if I was pretending not to be gay, it's not something I was able to do... to stay in the closet."

It is queers who push gender roles, above and beyond loving people of the same gender, who are more likely to be the targets of discrimination and violence.

"The roles that we apply to gender is the basis of homophobia," says immigration lawyer and activist El-Farouk Khaki. "Women and men who are queer and who violate those gender norms are the ones that are the most victimized."

Khaki, whose immigration practice focusses on queer, trans and HIV-positive people fleeing persecution and women fleeing violence, has been filing refugee claims for more than 12 years. Through his experience he has concluded that trans people are often less able to escape persecution than other queers.

"A gay man or a lesbian woman or someone who is bisexual can pass [as straight] in many cases whereas trans people have a harder time passing for their chosen genders."

Shadmith Manzo, also from Mexico, came to Canada because she was afraid of what would happen if she came out as trans.

"I tried to hide [being trans]," says Manzo, "but you cannot hide it very well and then you have people threatening you, trying to blackmail you, even sometimes close people, and then you have to be careful of everybody and then eventually it governs your life.

"For me at a certain point I developed a lot of anxiety and a lot of problems. I reached a point where I realized my life in Mexico was practically drowning my existence."

At the time that she left Mexico Manzo says that there were incidents of trans people being murdered, their bodies found on the outskirts of the city. People would make fun of them, she says, "And say, 'Oh, this happened because it was a homosexual.'"

Zuniga agrees that in Mexico there is the dominant thinking that victims of homophobic or transphobic violence have somehow brought it upon themselves.

"Police say, 'Oh, it's just a passionate crime,'" says Zuniga. "Because this person was homosexual it was like it was something that he or she deserved."

On Thu, Jul 12 Zuniga will present a forum on the realities of life for queer and trans people in Mexico. The event, to be held at the 519 Community Centre, will include information taken from the recently published Homo-fobia: Odio, Crimen y Justicia (Homophobia: Hate, Crime And Justice) by Fernando del Collado, which documents the more than 1,000 queer and trans people who were killed or went missing in Mexico from 1995 to 2005.

"I called this event Invisible Struggle because I'm going to try to talk about all these thousands of people murdered," says Zuniga. "There's injustice for all these people."

The forum will also touch on the struggles that refugees face when they come to Canada.

"I'll try to raise awareness of queer refugees in Canada who are struggling on a daily basis with the [immigration and refugee] system," says Zuniga, who is currently waiting on the outcome of an application to let him stay in Canada on humanitarian and compassionate grounds.

Zuniga has already been denied refugee status once. His first claim was on the basis of persecution due to sexual orientation, which was complicated by the fact that he was on the run from an abusive boyfriend.

"The situation with ex-boyfriend forced me to leave," says Zuniga. "It was really hard. My life was in danger and I was completely alone, isolated, all by myself. I wasn't able to ask my family for help because I wasn't sure how they'd react. There is in Mexico the machismo culture and the Catholic religion and my family was very religious. I felt that I had no choice [but to leave]."

But at an immigration hearing in May 2006, Zuniga's first refugee claim was denied. "[The Immigration And Refugee Board member] reported he had not found well-established fear. That I wasn't a person in need of protection.

"[He said] 'Mexico City has 25 million people so your ex-boyfriend will not find you there. It's a very open city right now... so you won't face discrimination there.'"

The trouble with proving persecution is something that Manzo is also familiar with. In 1994 Manzo claimed refugee status in Canada on the basis of persecution related to gender identity. But her claim was rejected. On Aug 12, 1998, less than a week after she married her partner, Crystal Manzo Chavez, Shadmith was taken from her apartment and detained at a facility in Malton.

"The only reason I came here was to a have a right for living a life for who I am and then you go to this journey where all of a sudden, you are misunderstood.... You are treated like a criminal," she says, describing her detainment. "You feel like it's so unbelievably unfair and [you feel] isolated and misunderstood. It's a very anguished and very painful time. It was very dehumanizing in many ways because you are treated like a product, not an individual. You are treated like a number, not like a person."

Manzo appealed to the federal court offering evidence supporting her claims of persecution in Mexico. But a risk assessment officer determined that while transsexuals were discriminated against, they were not persecuted. After 17 days in detention, Manzo was deported back to Mexico. She was eventually granted landed immigrant status on the basis of her relationship with her partner.

Part of what complicates the process of claiming refugee status in Canada as a Mexican is that the country is in the process of becoming more accepting of sexual diversity — at least in theory.

In November 2006 civil unions in Mexico City were legalized, allowing same-sex couples to register their relationships and providing them with inheritance rights and other benefits normally given to spouses. Earlier this year David Sanchez Camacho of the Democratic Revolution Party planned to submit a bill amending Mexico's constitution to include the rights of transsexuals, and to change civil laws to ensure that they can change their names and genders.

"Even a few months ago there was passed into different states civil unions of same-sex couples," says Zuniga. "But that's paper. I don't need papers in my life. I need reality."

Although trans and other queer refugees face many similarities in their struggles to be allowed to stay in Canada, their particular challenges once here are unique.

"Issues around gender and sex are very different to issues around sexuality," says Rachna Contractor, the coordinator of Among Friends, a three-year program to improve access to services for queer and trans immigrants and refugees in Toronto. "It's two different communities. They get lumped together for obvious reasons, but someone's gender identity is not the same as their sexual identity."

Contractor says there exists a level of transphobia within Toronto's queer scene. "I think that the queer community is a place where there's a lot of internalized homophobia, but [also] a lot of transphobia, a lot of sexism. There's a lot of racism, there's a lot of classism.

"I think what happens in communities that are marginalized is that it's almost like, 'Here's my piece of the pie and you can't come in and I'm not going to share it with you'.... It's almost like your power is on the backs of others so sometimes the queer community doesn't want to look at the trans people, the gender piece because, 'No, we've already gotten our power, now why do we want to take on your issue?'"

Khaki agrees that there is transphobia among queers, as well as homophobia among trans people.

"I think that many gay and lesbian people don't understand what makes a person transsexual," says Khaki. "They can understand not fitting into a gender norm and maybe it's a discomfort that most gay and lesbian people have with the visibility of somebody who is trans.... One would hope that your own experience of exclusion or disadvantage would make you more sensitive to others, but I think that human experience tells you otherwise."

In addition to possible discrimination within the queer scene, trans people face unique difficulties around accessibility to hormones, treatments and surgeries, says Suhail Abual Sameed, coordinator for Newcomer/Immigrant Youth Project. Sex reassignment surgery was removed from Ontario's health coverage in 1998.

It can also be a challenge to find trans-positive employers, he adds. "To find employers that are friendly enough to youth or to immigrants or to refugees is one thing. To find one that is friendly enough to trans people who are all these things, we can't even imagine how difficult that is or how problematic."

But for both queer and trans refugees there is the process of navigating the refugee system and the possibility of being taken advantage of along the way.

"They often don't know that there's a process which allows them to apply on the basis of sexuality. They wait for a while and that affects their cases. If they do know the process they look for a lawyer because they don't have connections and they often stumble onto really bad lawyers who take advantage of them and that's a very common situation."

Because of their lack of resources and support systems, refugees, particularly young ones, may do things that put their health at risk, says Abual Sameed.

"Lots of them meet older people within the community who sometimes take advantage of them and they go and do things to them sexually that are unsafe and, even though it's not safe, they will jeopardize that and compromise that safety for the sake of making a connection to somebody and making a new friend or thinking that this person might help them."

So then with all of the hardships and upheaval that queer and trans refugees face, is it worth it? Zuniga and Manzo certainly think so.

"Many people say, 'Why not lie? You have a much better life if you just lie,'" says Manzo. "But again, could you live without yourself? Could you just cover an existence without being you?"

"I love my country but if I can't be free, if I can't be Leonardo in Mexico it doesn't make sense to me," says Zuniga. "I want to be without fear of persecution, without fear that my life will be in danger."




Invisible Struggle takes place Thu, Jul 12 at the 519 Community Centre (519 Church St) beginning with a photo exhibit at 6:30pm. There will be a short film at 7pm and then the forum at 7:30pm. The petition asking the minister of immigration to let Leonardo Zuniga stay in Canada is available at Leonardozuniga.ca.

www.Leonardozuniga.ca