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HAVANA TIMES ? Bryan is tense. He keeps looking out the window. His black cap moves from side to side. Right, left, right, left. He was hired a few months ago at a Mexican restaurant on Lake Street in Minneapolis, and his job is to spot ICE agents patrolling the Latino neighborhood of this city. There is fear in the streets, but this taqueria has become a temporary refuge.

From the outside, the restaurant, which specializes in tacos, quesadillas, and pozole, looks like it’s closed. The front door is locked. But if you peek in, you’ll see Bryan’s face. He quickly checks you through the glass, from top to bottom, and if he doesn’t detect anything suspicious, he opens the door and lets you in. And in less than a second, he closes the door again. After eating, the process is reversed. He makes sure there are no immigration police agents hiding on the street, unlocks the door, and then the customers can leave.

Here, even eating a taco is dangerous. The customers communicate in whispers. The Spanish music is perfectly audible. But nobody uses the word ICE. That way, nobody risks having an undercover agent start asking them strange questions; where are you from, why do you have an accent, show me your identification.

Bryan is the “ice” watchman.

A few days ago, through the window, Bryan witnessed ICE arresting a suspected immigrant on the street. Several hooded agents surrounded him and took him away. And at that moment, Bryan sprang into action. He made sure the restaurant door was securely locked and shouted to the people eating: “Caution, ICE is outside! Everyone stay calm, nobody comes in and nobody goes out!” Bryan, in his twenties, is a US citizen, which is why he accepted the job. He is tasked with caring for others who don’t have papers. He wants “the people who are here to eat in peace, to feel safe, to know they are in a good place.”

The truth is, there is no good place in Minneapolis. The fear is not only among undocumented immigrants. After the deaths of two US citizens at the hands of ICE—Renne Good and Alex Pretti—no one is safe.

At COPAL (Communities Organizing for Power and Latino Action), all the volunteers are on high alert. They have a van they have appropriately nicknamed “The Brave One,” and they drive around the city to detect and report ICE operations. They are armed with whistles, yellow vests, and their cell phones to alert others and bear witness to what the three thousand ICE agents sent by President Trump to Minnesota are doing. In addition, they have trained thousands of “constitutional observers” in the risky task of documenting, without interfering, the operations of the federal agents. And to denounce, when it occurs, the abuse of power. The COPAL volunteers are the resistance, but they are not the only ones.

At the “God Speaks Today” church, Pastor Sergio Amezcua quickly realized that his Latino parishioners stopped attending Sunday services after the ICE raids. “Before, 600 people came every Sunday,” he told me, “and now only about 80 come.” They are afraid to leave their homes. Here I met a family that had been confined to their home for two months. They are from Mexico, and although their children were born in the United States, they fear being arrested and deported. But they are not going hungry. They regularly receive food that Pastor Amezcua sends them in cardboard boxes. He has turned his church into a food distribution center. From Monday to Saturday, they receive food from volunteers and distribute it to hundreds of homes. And on Sundays, they pray. Pastor Amezcua is also part of the resistance.

I am impressed with Minneapolis. I have never seen a city as supportive as this one. A large part of the Latino community is in hiding. But US citizens are feeding and caring for them. When I approached the house where five-year-old Liam Conejo Ramos was arrested by ICE with a team of journalists, several of his neighbors came out to ask who we were. Some even started filming us with their cell phones until they were sure we weren’t undercover immigration agents. I guess the black van we were traveling in looked suspicious to them.

I’ve witnessed several protests and seen many children participating in them. Here, they are taught to care for their neighbors and not to remain silent. And all the demonstrations have taken place in freezing temperatures. I’ve never been so cold in my life as here in Minneapolis in the middle of winter. In other parts of the world, the harsh winter weather would have dispersed any march or protest. Not here. They are the silent heroes of Minnesota.

Meanwhile, the “ice” keeper continues to open and close his door in the restaurant, nimbly and responsibly, so that the cold and the fear never slip in.

Read more opinion here on Havana Times.

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