CIUDAD TECÚN UMÁN, Guatemala — Traffic on the international bridge that spans the Suchiate River and links the Guatemalan town of Ciudad Tecún Umán with Mexico, is often light. For the immigration and customs agents posted at each end of the bridge, things are quiet.

But on the river below, scores of crude rafts crisscross the waterway, carrying people and cargo. The bridge is the legal route; down below is the illegal way.

Most people, perhaps thousands a day, sidestep the official border crossing between Ciudad Tecún Umán and the Mexican town of Ciudad Hidalgo, and instead travel by way of the river. Some are undocumented migrants heading north. Others are day laborers. Most are people looking to buy or sell merchandise without having to run the customs and immigration gantlet.

Here is a look at some of the people who cross the river.

Marvin Garcia, 39, has been a raftsman on the Suchiate since he was 18. His raft is made from wood planks lashed to the inner tubes of tractor tires, and he pilots it using a long pole hewed from a mangrove tree.

When the river is high, Guatemalan raftsmen may charge about $1.30 to cross. When it’s low, and the work is easier, the fare may drop to half that. Either way, it’s quicker than the official border crossing.

Mr. Garcia is one of the 42 raft pilots who make up a collective known as El Paso del Palenque, or Palenque Pass, which works the river several hundred meters north of the bridge. There are at least seven rafting groups that shuttle between Ciudad Tecún Umán and Ciudad Hidalgo.

There are also the bicycle taxis that move people and goods to and from the river’s edge and the local markets and transportation depots. And there are the porters who load and unload the rafts.

Occasionally, there are accidents. «This is more secure than the Titanic,» Mr. Garcia said aboard his raft. «If one tire bursts, we have another.»

Oswaldo, 30, owns a small store in the Guatemalan state of Suchitepéquez. About twice a month, he drives his pickup truck to Ciudad Tecún Umán, a three-hour trip. He then hops a raft, crosses to Mexico, goes shopping and heads home on a raft piled high with purchases.

He acknowledged that he was breaking the law by evading customs duty. If he were to cross by way of the bridge, he said, he would have to pay a 12 percent tax in Guatemala on all his Mexican purchases.

The raftsmen say Guatemalan police and tax officials come to the river, demanding identification, seizing goods and extracting tax payments.

Oswaldo does not start calculating his potential profits until he is back home. The route leads him through as many as 10 police checkpoints, which can mean paying up to 10 bribes. A payment of several dollars ensures a smooth trip.

It was late in the day when the Salvadoran migrant appeared at the river, a backpack on his shoulders. He asked me if I was from the United States and shifted from Spanish to English. He said he had been deported two months ago.

He started sobbing. He had lived in California for 13 years without immigration papers, but he had married an American citizen, had three children and had worked as a security guard. But after he was convicted of driving while intoxicated, he spent over a year in detention before being deported to El Salvador.

He missed his wife and children, so he boarded a bus in El Salvador, and a half-day later found himself at the Suchiate. He gave only his last name, Quintanilla, and said he was 33. His brother-in-law was on the other side of the Suchiate.

«It’s a new journey, it’s a new possibility,» he said.

The boat bumped up against the Mexican riverbank. He paid the raftsman and then vanished into the marketplace of Ciudad Hidalgo, where shopkeepers were marking the end of another day at Palenque Pass.

© 2018 The New York Times