Once in line, you stay put. If you step out, you lose your place

 At the height of the morning rush, at 4:30 a.m., the line extends through an underground tunnel lined with vendors selling burritos, sandwiches and soda, and back out onto the city streets. As people inch their way closer to the port of entry, the line grows more densely packed, swelling at points to 15 people wide. People are jammed shoulder to shoulder, some shouting and shoving. Farm workers say fights break out regularly; there are no security personnel to keep the peace.
Once in line, you stay put. If you step out, you lose your place. There are no toilets. So before entering the crush, people often relieve themselves right there, at the entrance to the tunnel. The whole area reeks of urine. And this is how it goes for three to four hours as the line slowly heaves to the Customs agents up front. Norma describes it as "a stampede."

Froilan Medina, a former farm worker turned advocate, says that as the line b es congested, women are frequently groped. One farm worker, Monica, 29, who asked to be identified only by her first name, said she is often fondled in the crush of people. "The lines are so packed it's hard to see who's doing the touching to be able to do anything about it," she says. "Sometimes we don't even want to e to work because we know it's going to happen. But we don't have a choice."When the Cortezes reach the checkpoint, there are only two U.S. agents inspecting IDs. There is a smaller port of entry, Calexico East, seven miles away, but no growers pick up workers there. Another port of entry, some 50 miles east at San Luis, Ariz., has similar hordes each morning. So there's no escape from these lines for Mexico's army of farm workers hoping to make it to the fields on time. Customs and Border Protection did not respond to requests for ment."It doesn't stop," Norma says. "I have to work, then I have to take care of my family, then I have to do it all over again."
Norma and Roberto are both green card holders and could live and work in the United States. But they say living in Mexico is the only way to support their family on farmworker pay. Their two daughters stay home taking care of infant children; both could work in Mexicali, but low pay and long hours in addition to expenses for childcare would put them at a deficit.