Well, they announced Costa Rica will take up to twenty-five folks a day the United States doesn’t want anymore, and I suppose that makes sense - if you figure the number twenty-five is about as precise as a weatherman’s guess on a cloudy Tuesday.

Now, I ain’t never been to Costa Rica, but I’ve met a few fellers from there who say the country’s got more sunshine than bureaucracy, and a lot less of either than we’ve got here. So when Washington says, “Here, take these twenty-five a day, we’ll even pay for the bus tickets,” you got to wonder who’s doing the taking and who’s just standing there holding the bag. The migrants, of course, ain’t asking for this - they’re just trying to get somewhere safe, and now they’re being passed around like a plate of biscuits at a church supper where nobody’s sure who brought them.

Both sides are doing their part to make this look like a solution. The folks in D.C. get to check a box on their deportation quota and tell the folks back home they’re “securing the border,” which sounds mighty important until you remember security doesn’t always mean safety. Meanwhile, Costa Rica gets a few extra dollars and a seat at the table where the big countries talk, which is nice - though I’d like to see the fine print on whether those twenty-five folks get to speak for themselves, or just sit quiet while the grown-ups negotiate over their heads.

The real puzzle, to me, is why nobody’s asking the obvious question: if twenty-five a day is too many for the United States to handle, why would twenty-five a day be any better for Costa Rica? It’s like borrowing your neighbour’s ladder to reach the roof, then saying, “Well, now your roof’s my problem.” The ladder don’t change just because you hand it off.

And let’s be plain: this isn’t about who’s right or wrong. It’s about who’s doing the explaining and who’s left to figure out what it means. The diplomats will call it “cooperation,” the politicians will call it “bipartisan progress,” and the folks on the ground - well, they’ll just keep moving, hoping the next border isn’t as thick with paperwork as the last one.

I’ve seen a lot of agreements signed in my time, and I’ve yet to meet one where the people who had to live with the consequences were invited to the signing party. Usually, they’re the ones holding the coffee cups while the real talk happens behind closed doors.

So here’s the shrug: the United States wants fewer people at its southern edge, Costa Rica wants a few more friends and maybe a few more dollars, and the migrants - well, they’re just trying to get home. And home, it seems, keeps moving further away.

Not that I’m blaming anyone. I’ve made mistakes myself. But I do wonder - if you had to pick one person in this whole arrangement who’s got the least say in the matter, and yet the most to lose, who’d you say that is?