Tijuana— This week, outside the white gates of the Tijuana customs facility, a stepping stone to U.S. soil, migrants sat quietly on the sidewalk, disbelieving that their future suddenly felt darker, shrouded in uncertainty. middle.

Like thousands of others last year, they arrived at the border to meet with U.S. officials for formal asylum interviews, with many taking months to schedule appointments. For some, getting there means crossing the Darien Gap, a dense and dangerous jungle on the border of Colombia and Panama. Others traveled by bus across multiple countries, and still others crowded into shelters and local hotels for months on end, hoping to confirm asylum appointments through the mobile app CBP One, which the Biden administration has been using since early 2023 to streamline Application Process to Seek Asylum.

Whatever their journey, they arrived this week to find their appointment had been canceled without notice or fanfare.

On Monday, shortly after President Trump took office, his administration announced it would disable CBP One and cancel all asylum appointments. In a separate executive order, he declared a national emergency at immigration crossings on the southern border.

“Trump signs it and it’s over,” said Roberto Canastu, a 40-year-old Guatemalan, sitting on the curb opposite the customs building. Canastu had made an appointment for 5 a.m. Tuesday — he had spent more than a month loading the CBP One app every day to see if luck would break his lottery-style system. When that happened, he borrowed about $9,000 to travel north and arrived in Tijuana the Sunday before his appointment.

But on Monday, he couldn't load the app on his phone. Shortly after, he was informed that all appointments had been cancelled. On Monday, he arrived at the gate known as "El Chaparral," hoping it wasn't true. Mexican officials had no answers. He was here again on Tuesday to see if anything would change.

The Border Crisis Center group has printed flyers. “Did they cancel your CBP One appointment?” the paper asked in Spanish and English. The organization provides housing, meals and information to immigrants in need.

People were still lingering outside the customs building on Tuesday, unsure of what was happening now. Some families sat on their luggage, looking dazed. Unaware of the crisis facing their parents, the children kept their dolls and played along the fence.

"Look at these guys with their baggage, with their baggage. I brought my backpack and my hope," Canastu said. He felt he could cry. "Deep inside, I was dying."

"The only thing we can do is wait," he added.

Scenes in Tijuana were also seen at ports of entry on the U.S.-Mexico border this week. Migrants are effectively stranded in Mexico. Their supporters on both sides of the border are bracing for what they expect will be chaos as Trump orders mass deportations.

Mexican officials have told waiting migrants they can stay at a government-run shelter more than half an hour away but cannot be left at the door. By Tuesday evening, fewer than a dozen migrants had boarded a van bound for shelter, while others left on their own, some planning to return the next day.

CPB One was originally developed to help prevent backups for travelers entering the country legally. After downloading it to their phone and entering their passport information, foreigners can use the app to pass through border crossings and airports smoothly.

In January 2023, the Biden administration expanded use of the app to help maintain order for the large number of asylum seekers arriving at the southern border. The program allows 1,450 people per day to make an appointment to apply for asylum at a port of entry. In the two years since its launch, CBP One has helped nearly 1 million people enter the country. The vast majority were interviewed and then notified to go to U.S. Immigration Court to have their cases decided.

Rosaura Rubio, a former political activist in Venezuela, cried as she spoke about the difficult decision to leave her native Venezuela. She said she fled the country's instability to give her daughters Solange, 4, and Sophia, 10, a better future. She said she spent three months trying to get an appointment through the CBP One app and was excited when they were finally accepted.

But all that came crashing down at 11:11 a.m. on Monday, when she received an email saying the appointment had been cancelled.

"If they implement this plan, they should respect it," she said. "We are human beings."

On Wednesday, Marcela Medina, 57, her husband Jesus Correa, 61, and their 15-year-old son were waiting outside, hoping that their situation would be better. Change.

Medina cried with gratitude as she hugged a local volunteer who served migrants hot tea and pancakes for breakfast. The family, originally from Venezuela, said they traveled by bus across seven countries after fleeing instability and violence in their country.

They had been in Mexico City for five months, trying to check in through the CBP One app, and were notified on Jan. 2 that they had a 5 a.m. appointment scheduled for Tuesday.

Two days ago, they traced the path from the hotel to the customs office to make sure they knew the way. On Monday, they saw migrants with evening appointments being turned away.

“It wasn’t easy getting here,” Correa said, describing the violence and harm they witnessed as they trekked north. "We're here for something and we trust God. Something is going to happen and we need to be ready and we have to make an effort here."

Some advocates worry that more immigrants may consider crossing illegally, a dangerous practice that occurs almost daily on the southwest border. On Wednesday, one deportee, who gave only his first name, 28-year-old Manuel, sat at a table smoking a cigarette. He packed his few belongings—eye drops, a Mexican passport, a pack of cigarettes—in a red straw bag.

Manuel said he tried to climb the border wall Tuesday night but was caught. He hit his head on the way down. But, he said, he plans to try again.

"I had no other choice," he said. “Everything is possible in this life.”

Families with no other housing options turn to nonprofit shelters. At the Movimiento Juventud 2000 event, several families whose reservations had been canceled camped out in tents set up in a huge warehouse.

Outside, Angels Without Borders activist Sergio Tamai Quintero tried to send a message to the US president by slamming a Trump piñata with his belt. The children talked, laughed and played together.

The shelter is less than half full, but director José María Garcia said he feels that will change soon.

"When the new president announced this, he said there would be mass deportations. What does that mean?" Garcia asked. "That means we're going to have more Mexicans being deported across the border and displaced migrants continuing to move north. They're going to come from both directions."