Oscar and Geraldine Polanco had plans to build a life together in LA. They met at their church in West Adams, where they felt deeply connected to the community. Guided by their faith, the couple leaned on shared beliefs and married in 2023. They focused on work, and next, they prayed, would be having children.
But everything changed in October at Oscar’s green card adjustment appointment— a routine interview with immigration officials to determine whether he could become a lawful permanent resident.
After a few brief questions, he was handcuffed by immigration agents who sought to deport him to Guatemala — a country he had not visited in more than 20 years.
“I felt like it was a trap,” Oscar said. “They made it seem like everything was fine. When I got up to leave, two men grabbed me from behind.”
Oscar, 42, had lived in the U.S. since he was 22 years old. He believed he would qualify for permanent residency through his wife’s pending asylum case, after she — a dentist in her native Peru — sought protection in the U.S. following four robberies at her dental office. Acting on his attorney’s advice, he filed paperwork in 2024 to be included in her application and, months later, was called in for a biometrics appointment at a U.S. Customs and Immigration Services office in San Fernando.
Instead of officials taking his fingerprints, he said, he was taken into custody.
The plainclothes agents, who said they were with Immigration and Customs Enforcement, had been standing among other applicants at his appointment, Oscar said. He was escorted to another room in handcuffs, and Geraldine, 30, watched as he was taken away.
“She broke down,” Oscar recalled. “We both did. You feel powerless, like your hands are tied and there’s nothing you can do.”
For Geraldine, the moment felt surreal.
“I saw them put the handcuffs on him, and I asked them what he had done,” she said. “They told me he just had to see a judge, that it would be a week. But when I saw him like that, I felt like everything collapsed.”
The Department of Homeland Security didn’t immediately answer questions from The LA Local about why Oscar was picked up at what was supposed to be a routine appointment.
But in September 2025, the month before Oscar was detained, federal agents arrested 1,233 people in the LA region, according to an analysis by The LA Local of the most recent ICE records obtained by the Deportation Data Project. The total is about half the number arrested in June, but three times higher than in previous years.
For the Polancos, the life they were building together in Lincoln Heights was put on hold after Oscar was taken into custody.
When they met in 2023, Geraldine told her aunt there was “a brother from church” she liked. As evangelical Christians, she said, relationships are approached through prayer and fasting rather than casual dating.
“We prayed and fasted for about a week,” she said. “We asked God to confirm if it was His will for us to be together.”
They were engaged by July 2023, married in a civil ceremony on Sept. 28, 2023, and held a church wedding a few weeks later. Geraldine said she fell in love with the qualities that define Oscar.
“He is a hardworking man,” Geraldine said. “And a man who fears God in his heart.”
Oscar worked as a handyman and had bought a truck after getting married to expand his remodeling business. Geraldine worked as a dental assistant in LA and also helped clean the properties he remodeled. They planned to grow the handyman business together.
“We had plans,” Oscar said. “To keep working, to buy a home, to have children.”
Limbo in Adelanto
After being detained, Oscar was first taken to a federal detention center in downtown LA, where he spent about two days in a holding cell with about 15 other men.
He was only allowed a 5-minute phone call. He called his wife. He and the other detained men were given mostly juice, cookies and fruit.
“You’re in limbo,” he said. “No one tells you where you’re going or what’s happening.”
For Geraldine, the silence was agonizing.
“You don’t know anything,” she said. “You’re just waiting for the phone to ring.”
From there, Oscar was transferred in handcuffs to the Adelanto ICE Processing Center in San Bernardino County’s high desert.
At Adelanto, he spent up to 12 hours in a holding cell before being processed and issued a uniform. Detainees, he said, were responsible for cleaning their own living areas. Food portions were small and not appetizing. Oscar, who just had a DUI on his record, described being housed alongside people with violent criminal convictions.
“I made a mistake before the pandemic, I truly regret it, but I see it as a lesson learned. I also took responsibility and paid for things,” Oscar said. “But at the detention, they mix everyone. It felt dangerous.”
While at Adelanto, Oscar said he caught the flu, developed a fever and nearly got pneumonia.
“You have to submit paperwork saying you’re sick, and it takes more than three days just to get a response, that is, if you get one,” he said. “When I asked for medication, they refused. They treated me poorly, and I saw others who were sick and ignored. It was inhumane. Living through this injustice and seeing it happen to others made me angry.”
Oscar’s experiences reflect patterns reported by journalists and documented by lawyers representing detainees.
In January, Public Counsel and the Coalition for Humane Immigrant Rights, both nonprofit legal and advocacy organizations, filed a federal class-action lawsuit against the Adelanto, alleging inhumane treatment, inadequate medical care and unsafe living conditions. The lawsuit seeks court orders to reduce overcrowding, improve medical services and ensure better treatment for all current and future detainees. It also stresses systemic issues in ICE detention, particularly at for-profit facilities.
At first, Oscar spent about a week in Adelanto. He was then put on a deportation flight. Shackled during bus transfers and flights that stopped in multiple states, he spent nights in holding facilities in Texas and Louisiana — often sleeping on the floor, he said.
His attorney filed an emergency appeal that temporarily halted his deportation, and Oscar was sent back to Adelanto. There, he spent about another month and a half as his lawyer sought bond.
He never received a bond hearing before a judge, he said. Instead, Oscar said a judge determined he would be deported and that he didn’t qualify for release on bond.
It’s unclear if the DUI, typically a misdemeanor in California, affected his case. Independent data and reporting show that under the Trump administration, federal agents have increasingly been detaining people without any criminal convictions, with tens of thousands of people arrested who don’t have a record, even as the administration emphasizes that they’re going after serious criminals.
In December, just before the holidays, Oscar was officially deported and arrived in Guatemala.
After two decades in Los Angeles, he said the return felt disorienting.
“It’s like starting from zero,” he said. “You leave behind everything you built.”
Oscar had been the primary breadwinner in the household and covered most of their expenses, including $2,000 monthly rent. Without him, Geraldine said she had to take on full-time housekeeping jobs and debt. She started a GoFundMe to help pay for her expenses as she readjusted her entire life.
“I had to borrow money,” she said. “The church helped me with groceries every week. I started selling food to neighbors to cover bills.”
She also spent hundreds on phone calls to the detention center and sent him about $100 a week for food inside.
“I didn’t want him to feel alone,” she said.
Reunited
Despite all the challenges she faced while Oscar was detained, Geraldine knew that she wanted to be with her husband. “I couldn’t imagine my life without him,” she said.
That’s why on Jan. 25, they reunited in Lima, Peru, after nearly three months apart. They ran to each other in the airport as Oscar made his way through the crowds.
They embraced, surrounded by strangers with their luggage, the two of them together again after being torn apart at the immigration hearing back in October.
“When I saw him, I forgot about the exhaustion,” Geraldine said. “I just thanked God. I had been so worried — I didn’t know if he was being treated well, if he was eating, if he was sick.”
She added, “The same God in the United States is the same God in Guatemala. It was hard, but our faith carried us. Seeing him again reminded me why it’s worth it. We’re together, and we can face this next chapter.”
Now they are preparing to travel to Guatemala, where she will need to register their marriage and begin the process of legalizing her status there.
“It’s starting over again,” she said. “But what matters is that we’re together.”
