PALMIRA, Colombia — It’s been three years since Douarleyka Velásquez left her career in human resources. Her new job isn’t what she expected, but it still seems rewarding. As head of cleaning at a migrant shelter in Colombia, she comforts Venezuelans who, just like her, fled their homes hoping for a better life.

“I feel that here I can help my brothers, my compatriots who come and go,” said Velásquez, 47, of Pope Francis Shelter for migrants in Palmira, a city in southwest Colombia.

The United Nations refugee agency, UNHCR, estimates that more than 7.7 million Venezuelans have left their country since 2014the largest exodus in recent Latin American history, with most settling in the Americas, from neighboring Colombia and Brazil to more distant Argentina and Canada.

According to the International Organization for Migration, Colombia hosts the largest population of migrants from Venezuela. Colombian records show that as of mid-2024, more than 2.8 million Venezuelans were in the country.

The Pope Francis Migrant Shelter was founded in 2020 to combat this phenomenon, said the Rev. Arturo Arrieta, who oversees human rights initiatives in the Catholic Diocese of Palmira.

The city is primarily a transit point, Arrieta said. Migrants pass through there to get to Darien Gapa perilous route to reach North America. A few others, who could no longer continue to migrate or who aspired to return to their past life, make a stopover before returning home.

“It’s one of the few shelters on the way,” Arrieta said. “The international community stopped funding places like this, thinking it would discourage immigration, but that will never happen. On the contrary, it leaves migrants without protection.”

People arriving at the shelter can stay there for up to five days, although exceptions can be made. Velásquez was welcomed into the team when she moved to Palmira, as was Karla Méndez, who works in the kitchen and says cooking traditional Venezuelan dishes for her compatriots brings her joy .

According to Arrieta, the shelter is primarily sought after by families, women traveling alone and the LGBTQ+ population. Food, clothing and spiritual guidance are provided to those in need; Facilities include showers, a children’s play area and pet cages.

In addition, the team provides information on human trafficking and support to women victims of abuse and children traveling unaccompanied.

“We also met Venezuelans mothers looking for their loved ones and come to or from Darien Gap in a never-ending search,” Arrieta said. “Families are looking for their loved ones who disappeared during migration. »

Although no official records track the number of missing migrants – partly because some of them traveled illegally – their disappearances have been recognized by human rights organizations and Colombian institutions.

“In recent years, we have found unidentified bodies whose clothing or personal effects indicate that they are migrants,” said Marcela Rodriguez, who works in a local missing persons unit.

Arrieta knows that he cannot prevent all migrants from entering territories controlled by illegal armed groups. But he does his best to comfort the migrants at the shelter.

“Our motto is that we are a caress from God,” he said. “We want them to find an oasis here.”

Velásquez, whose husband, two children and a grandson left Venezuela with her, said leaving everything behind was difficult, but her family now feels at home.

“I feel very proud of what I do,” she said. “I always try to encourage and tell people that everything will work out wherever they go. »

Upstairs, Mariana Ariza, 20, faces a dilemma shared by many migrants: Where to go next?

After leaving Venezuela in 2020, she arrived in Bogotá with her 2-year-old child and became a sex worker to support her child.

“It’s really difficult to emigrate without being able to find a job,” said Ariza, now a mother of two. “I would do anything for my children. I would never let them starve.

She is hesitant about returning to Venezuela to reunite with her family or going to Ecuador to seek better opportunities.

“Some people tell me, ‘You have this job because you don’t know how to do anything,’ but that’s not true,” Ariza said. “I learned a lot, but I didn’t have the money or the opportunity to move forward. »

In Bogota, where she initially arrived, Rev. René Rey spent decades supporting Colombian sex workers and HIV-positive LGBTQ+ people. In recent years, its work has expanded to help Venezuelan migrants.