I see them through the fence. The line doesn’t look like a line; there’s a thick crowd inside the holding area, more than a thousand people. Without exception, these are women and children. The crowd spills out into the back. Beneath these people’s feet is the bare earth, or dry old grass ground nearly to dust. Many have blankets around their shoulders. Even the smallest children stand beside the grownups, who hold the babies in their arms. I see a woman place a swaddled baby on top of a duffel bag. Another is crouched a little off to the side of the crowd, sheltering her infant between her knees and her belly.