Home Away From Home

The smell of fresh pain permeates the air on tip top of a tobacco barn that holds tabacco waiting to be dark-fired. Two men, Lino Cortes, 40, (right) and Angel Rodriguez Castillo, 34, (left) balance themselves on the smooth recycled tin surface to spray the roof. On slow days when a lot of work is not needed only a select few of the migrants on Jerry Barber's tobacco farm in Lynnville, Ky., work on routine maintenance.

Lino Cortes (left) and Saul Mortinez along with the other eight migrant workers pull potatoes off of the picker in and sort them by class while Jerry Barber rides on his four wheeler to check on the workers. Jose Guadalupe says that his relation with Jerry is distance. He gives them respect, he respects their space and doesn't come around much. Same with work, he takes them there and leaves them. He doesn't have to be in the field the whole time.

Jerry Barber watches from a distance as his migrant workers unload crates full of sweet potatoes after harvesting four rows of potatoes from the field. The immigrants work from 8-12 hours a day and are only allowed to leave the property to go to town on Sundays. The migrant workers say that it is same amount of work that they would do in Mexico but they get much more money. Guadalope uses the money that he saves to help pay off loans he took out to get to Americian and then will save up money to complete his general medicine college education in Mexico. He says it will take him four years of working in America to be able to pay for it.

For nine years Lino Cortes, 40, (center) has worked on on the Barber farm for nine months out of each year. Carolyn Barber watches from a distance while Cortes, begins to mix the red paint that will be used on one of their rusting barns made out of recycled tin. "He is like the leader," said Chad Barber, son of Carolyne Barber.

Lino Carlos says that the work they do on the farm is not hard for them anymore because they were young when they left and they are now used to it.

Jerry Barber come to the migrant house to check on the men and tell them when work will begin again during the men's lunch break. (From Left) Saul Mortinez, Carlos Gomora and Nestor Pelipe Moncroy went outside after eating lunch to play dominos on their porch.

Jose Guadalupe, 24, from Monelos Mexico watches out the window in the migrant house while the chaos of breakfast begins. Saul Mortinez, 29, (right) and Rawon Salgado, 24, (left) reach into the cabinets to pull out the beginnings of their breakfast meal as Samuel Mortinez Bello, 34, eats his Coco Puffs while watching a latin soap opera. Guadalupe was the last to start working on the Barber farm, he has been at the farm for one month and one week. He is working on paying off loans for the trip to American and then will begin saving for his second year in college.

It was a slow day on the farm for the six of the ten migrant workers that work for Jerry Barber on his tobacco farm. To pass the time they brought out the soccer ball. Saul Mortinez, 28, currled up in a ball on the ground outside of their home after being accidentally kicked in the groin. In an effort to cheer him up and make light of the situation Carlos Gomora, 29, from Tetecal Mexico, jumps on top of him. The rest of the men stopped playing to join in a dog pile.

Adrian Coatez Murnles, 36 has two children, Edgardo Jesus,8, and Isis Adriana, 6, at home in Mexico and here in America he has three quarter size images of them that cover his Mexican drivers license in his wallet. When working all day the Mexican Immigrant workers on Jerry Barber Farms rest their head and try to relax in their home away from home. Many of the men express that the distance from Kentucky to Mexico mirrors the emptiness in their heart.

Many of the men express that the distance from Kentucky to Mexico mirrors the emptiness in their heart. Angel Rodriguez Castillo, 34, is one of those men at Jerry Barber Farms that misses home. During his birthday he lies on top of his twin mattress away from the other immigrant workers to look at pictures of his son Maximo Rodriguz who is 1-year-old on his cell phone, while other workers watched t.v., listened to music and ate breakfast.