In terms of the relationships I formed with migrant participants more broadly, above all these were colored by the great kindness, openness, and trust with which I was received, once any first concerns about confidentiality and anonymity had been addressed. We would laugh and joke together, and I would share experiences of my life, too. The terms of address in initially reserved relationships would move from the formal Usted to the informal tú, and women who had started off calling me señorita came to refer to me instead by the affectionate amiga or mamita. Nevertheless, there were still moments that served as important reminders of the differences between our life situations. I remember drawing in a sharp breath at the end of one exchange with Magdalena, who worked as a live-in nana (maid). A serious conversation had evolved into kidding around about managing relationships and juggling commitments, and we were both laughing when suddenly she said, touching my arm, “Hey, I know! I could come and work as your nana and look after your children [when you have them]!” Struck by how easily she said this, I laughed awkwardly and made a mumbled comment about how I wouldn’t have a nana, and the conversation moved on. The truth inherent in her observation about our vastly different circumstances stayed with me, however.
I feel very fortunate to have been invited to glimpse the lives of the migrants I worked with and to have been trusted to share the stories told to me. These stories, and the living and working conditions I witnessed, often moved me profoundly and certainly stood in stark contrast to my own privilege. I do not see either this emotional response, or awareness of the power implications of my own positionality, as things to be written out of these pages in a mythical pursuit of “objectivity.” Rather, my analysis is led by my sense of how wrong it is that these imbalances and injustices can exist.
ORGANIZATION OF THE BOOK
I structure this analysis primarily around the four spaces of transnational citizenship I identified in the research: legal, economic, social, and political. I consider migrants’ relationships to each through the lens of uncertainty and take into account the overlaps among them. Prior to this, however, chapter 1, “Citizenship, Migration, and Uncertainty,” expands on the conceptual framing of the book, bringing together literature from political philosophy, on citizenship in Latin America, and from migration studies. In doing so, it also sketches histories of citizenship and migration in Chile and Bolivia. This is complemented by chapter 2, “Places of Uncertain Citizenship,” which moves from this more theoretical discussion to focus on lived experiences of uncertain citizenship. In it, I construct detailed ethnographic accounts of six “places of uncertain citizenship” inhabited and passed through by the migrants whose stories form the center of this book. These places were nodal points within overlapping transnational spaces of citizenship; they were physical manifestations of what it means to live uncertain citizenship. This embodied understanding of the lived reality of uncertain citizenship, articulated through particular places, provides the jumping-off point for exploration of migrants’ relationships to transnational spaces of citizenship.
Chapter 3, “Papeleo,” begins this exploration by examining migrants’ multiple transitions between (ir)regular legal statuses as they are excluded from, and seek inclusion within, the transnational space of legal citizenship. Centered around the motif of papeleo (paperwork/red tape), the chapter examines how this transnational space of legal citizenship and migrants’ positions within it are constructed. It suggests that this occurs through interactions between legislation as it exists “on paper,” its (often discriminatory) application by officials “through paper,” and the practices of “presenting papers” in which migrants engage, sometimes with the support of a migrant organization.
Leading on from this, chapter 4, “¿El Sueño Chileno?,” is concerned with economic citizenship and the quest for el sueño chileno (the Chilean dream).9 Taking a transnational perspective on economic citizenship and comprehending it as more than just access to decent work, it seeks first to capture the economic marginalization in Bolivia that often acted as a catalyst for pursuing el sueño chileno. The latter part of the chapter reflects on the degree to which el sueño chileno was realized after migrants crossed the border. It has a particular focus on employment experiences in wholesale garment retail, agriculture, and domestic work and includes reflections on a case of trafficking for labor exploitation uncovered in the course of my fieldwork. The chapter considers the ways in which both structural processes and the agentic practices of migrants contribute to their ability to access the space of economic citizenship across borders, and thus to their experiences of uncertainty.
The emphasis on both structure and agency carries over into chapter 5, “Solidaridad,” which uncovers the degree to which those with whom I worked are often excluded transnationally from social citizenship. The transnational space of social citizenship is defined in terms of tangible rights to shelter, education, and health care, but also encompasses the less tangible right to family life and the necessity of having “social support.” Migrants’ experiences in relation to each of these domains are discussed, highlighting the worrying tendency toward a lack of solidaridad (solidarity) from Chilean service providers; a case study of six migrant women’s experiences of pregnancy and birth in Chile attests to this particularly.
Chapter 6, “¿De Dónde Somos? ¡De Bolivia!,” provides a rather different angle on migration and political citizenship. Emphasis has often been placed on migrants’ formal political practices (e.g., voting) or on informal political practices that fall more within global North concepts of “the political” (e.g., union participation). The Bolivian migrants in Chile whom I encountered did not generally engage in these kinds of practices, as this chapter outlines. Through an account of my time with Corazón de Tinkus I reveal, however, the ways in which performing Bolivian carnival dances in public spaces in Chile can be read as a transnational citizenship practice within the realm of the political. So, while migrants were excluded from political citizenship in the sense in which it is often understood, dancing in public spaces, accompanied by the cry “¿De dónde somos? ¡De Bolivia!” (“Where’re we from? From Bolivia!”), allowed them a politicized means of expressing their hope of greater future inclusion across borders. This use of dance is indicative of the germ of possibility contained within the notion of uncertainty, the proposition that animates the conclusion. It widens the scope of the book, suggesting that living uncertain citizenship is not uncommon for many migrants globally. It finds, however, that this analytic allows for both recognition and promotion of incremental steps that can be taken toward increased inclusion in transnational spaces of citizenship.
1
Citizenship, Migration,
and Uncertainty
Predicated on being a “full member of a community,” citizenship acts to include and exclude.1 Citizens must be constructed in opposition to an “other,” and frequently that “other” has been a migrant. Nevertheless, the boundaries between citizen and migrant are, and always have been,