Real Community Love: "Santuario" A Story of a Grandmother Seeking Sanctuary in Church Basement

Photo Credit: Annie Rose Ramos | (Pictured) Juana Tobar Ortega, 47, reads the Bible in her basement bedroom of the St. Barnabas Church in Greensboro, North Carolina. Surrounded by drawings made by her granddaughters, Ortega has spent over two years …

Photo Credit: Annie Rose Ramos | (Pictured) Juana Tobar Ortega, 47, reads the Bible in her basement bedroom of the St. Barnabas Church in Greensboro, North Carolina. Surrounded by drawings made by her granddaughters, Ortega has spent over two years in the church basement in order to avoid deportation back to her home country, Guatemala.

Juana Luz Tobar Ortega, a loving wife, caring mother and grandmother spends her days in a church basement sewing beautiful pillow covers, sculpting artistic clay cups and bowls and cooking pupusas and tamales.

But Ortega’s many homemaking talents contradict the tough truth of her life: She’s being separated from her husband and kids.

On May 9, 2019 some PBS stations across the nation aired a 25-minute documentary titled “Santuario” that tells Ortega’s story. The documentary captures Ortega’s’ genuine love for helping and serving others and her appreciation for her days in sanctuary at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church.

A little over two years ago, the 47-year-old Guatemalan native took refuge at St. Barnabas on May 31, 2017, after receiving an ankle bracelet and an order of deportation.

"Before [seeking sanctuary], I had a secure job. I sewed and made a salary," she says. "But now being in sanctuary it's a complete change. I used to work 40 hours a week."

Photo Credit: Bridgette Cyr | In Sanctuary, Ortega (pictured right) makes pupusas for friends and family at St Barnabas Episcopal Church almost two years after seeking sanctuary.

Photo Credit: Bridgette Cyr | In Sanctuary, Ortega (pictured right) makes pupusas for friends and family at St Barnabas Episcopal Church almost two years after seeking sanctuary.

The film “Santuario” looks at the struggle of the Ortega family after Juana was divided from her husband, Carlos, four children and two grandchildren for sanctuary. The directors hope the film shines a light on noncriminal deportation cases like Ortega’s, which have multiplied in the wake of the administration’s immigration crackdown.

"I came into the project excited about the idea of sanctuary as a form of protection for people facing deportation," said Christine Delp, who co-directed the film with Pilar Timpane. "And I came through not really sure whether sanctuary is a good or bad thing. It's like being in limbo. There's an extreme emotional, financial, physical toll on families."

“Santuario” provides a clear perspective about the agony families face after being separated by immigration. For Ortega and her family, it’s clear to see the two years that she has been in sanctuary have been painful and challenging. "The worst part," she says, "is not being able to go to my house. When my family has to go home and when they leave, I stay here."

Juana first migrated to the US after fleeing violence in Guatemala over 25 years ago. Although her formal asylum claim was denied, in the film she says Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) allowed her to stay in the US and work for many years, while they did routine check-ins. Then in May 2017, she was told she had to leave the country, and Juana and her family were forced to make a dreadful choice.

"Sanctuary already is family separation," says Lesvi, Juana's daughter, who has stepped up in advocating for her mom throughout the agonizing process.

Ortega’s family and community have taken her situation very seriously. Many have written letters, knocked on Members of Congress's doors, and engaged in social action campaigns publicly requesting for help.

It’s hard for us,” said her eldest daughter, Lesvi Molina, who stays with her one night a week. “But it’s nothing compared to what she’s dealing with. It’s very overwhelming to feel like there’s no way out.”

"We're not asking a lot. We're asking for an opportunity, a work permit, or residency would be the best thing," Ortega says. "We'd be able to be at peace."

Juana and her family's fight is ongoing.