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On the Edge

Written and photographed by Sheridan Smith

Jesús Celis, 31, arrived in Lima in 2018 amid Venezuela’s mass migration, selling candy on the street before starting a career as a medical interpreter. Nearly eight years later, he reflects on sacrifice, belonging, and why returning home would mean beginning again. 

More than 7.9 million Venezuelans have left the country since 2014, making this exodus the largest in Latin America’s recent history. The majority of those displaced, about 6.9 million, are currently residing in Latin America, with Colombia and Peru hosting the largest number. 

In his early twenties, Celis left his life in Venezuela and moved to Lima, Peru. 

“The hardest part of starting over was getting used to leaving behind everything I knew there,” Celis said. “Everything I had done in Venezuela, and being willing to do anything to move forward here, in another country, in another city, in another culture.”

 

Celis arrived in Lima looking for work, starting as a street vendor, among recent arrivals. 

“So I arrived here selling things on the street, selling candy, sweets, lemonade, and coffee,” Celis explained. “I did that for about two months until I got a job.”

He joined a Facebook group to exchange tips with other Venezuelans in Peru. One job listing for an American company looking for a translator requested English proficiency, a language he had learned for fun while playing video games as a child. He applied, was quickly onboarded, and has been working as a medical interpreter ever since. 

 

Eight years into this fulltime job, Celis also works with friends at a creative agency on the side. He feels very grateful to have built a stable career, something that many migrants are still working toward. At the same time, he acknowledges that conversations about going back have shifted amid recent political developments.

In early January 2026, Venezuelan President Nicolás Maduro was captured during a U.S. military operation. Some Venezuelans, both inside and outside the country, remain uncertain about what meaningful political or economic change may follow, while others are cautiously optimistic.

“Well, right now we’re on edge, you could say, especially because of the recent capture of Maduro,” Celis said. “Many people are very eager to go back because they see a brighter future in the country. It feels a little more hopeful, you could say, with more expectations because of what’s currently happening, but changes don’t happen overnight, right?”


When asked about what he misses most, Celis did not hesitate. 

“[I miss] my family. My mom, my brother, my grandmother,” he said.

Celis’s family members had already established their lives and careers by the time of the migration wave. 

“My mom and my grandmother obviously are older people and they already have their lives built there,” Celis said. “My brother, too, already has his career. He’s a doctor in Venezuela. It’s the kind of career that wouldn’t transfer easily. So it’s better for him to stay, despite the situation.”

“Personally, I believe I wouldn’t return because it would be like starting from zero again, even though it’s my own country,” Celis said. 

While social tensions have intensified and border restrictions have tightened in recent years in Peru, Celis reflects on his own experience with gratitude. He expresses that, even though his identity is hybrid, it is rooted in Peru. 

“I feel that personally and professionally I’ve already done everything here in Peru, so if I want to progress, I believe I have a better future here in this country than in mine.”

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