Before the Civil War, slaves who managed to escape their masters often traveled north through a series of safe places -- a journey dubbed the "underground railroad." Today's northward-moving people might benefit if such a system was established for them. PNS commentator Martin Espinoza reports from Guanajuato, Mexico.

George Smith, the son of a Texas rancher, leans back comfortably in one of four large beds at a hostel in the beautiful, colonial town of Guanajuato, Mexico.

Smith (I've changed his name), wearing only his boxers and a Native American-type necklace, scratches his scruffy blonde goatee and talks of the need for an "underground railroad" to help Latin American immigrants safely across the U.S.-Mexico border.

"You would have to give these people basic training to survive the desert," says Smith. "And before you get them across the border, it might be a good idea to set them up with work at some ranch."

Smith speaks with the authority of a wilderness guide. His long-haired traveling partner (I'll call him Groovy) chimes in with a scheme for issuing real U.S. passports to "illegals."

It is my first time in a Mexican hostel -- I usually stay with friends or in a cheap hotel when I travel. I had booked the room and gone out. On my return, I found Smith and Groovy, recovering from an all-night bus trip from the Texas border.

The idea of an underground railroad comes up after we begin talking about the current conflict between undocumented immigrants and ranchers on the border. When I propose the idea, which would involve secret immigrant "stations" throughout South America, Central America, Mexico, and well into U.S. and Canada, I am pleasantly surprised by their excitement.

"People have a right to look for work," says Smith.

When I tell him many Latino activists interested in this issue would be surprised at such a positive reaction from an American border rancher, Smith tells me his mother is a Mexicana. He also adds that in Texas, Americans are not quite as racist as they are in Arizona.

He also talks of seeing undocumented immigrants come to his ranch, looking for work, dead-tired and half starved from the arduous trek through rugged terrain they must take because U.S. Border Patrol operations have closed more urbanized points of entry.

"I hear a lot of Americans complaining about how illegals trespass on their property and steal food and live animals. I got an easy solution," says Smith. "You just put out a box, put food and supplies in it, and label it 'food' or 'comida.' End of problem."

They agree that an underground railroad would save many lives. By two in the morning, our discussion has grown into full-blown fantasy.

An informal underground railroad already exists for thousands of Latin American immigrants searching for better paying jobs in the United States and Canada. It consists of a loose network of coyotes and polleros (or immigrant smugglers) whose services are not only expensive but often lead people to their deaths -- whether in the desert, in the trunk of a car, or at the hands of a xenophobic rancher.

Coyotes often charge between $700 and $1,500, sometimes more. I ask Smith how much it would actually cost to get someone safely across the border.

"We're doing this non-profit?" he says. "Maybe $200 or $300. That would cover basic training, supplies, food, and transportation."

Smith and Groovy then contemplate various points of entry, rattling off the names of obscure, small towns along the Texas border.

The organization would have to be international, I explain -- an international non-governmental organization. Since we're talking about smuggling people through several government representatives would have to be kept at a distance. In this way, the underground railroad would be free of politics.

We have a good example of the need for avoiding governments. This year, Mexican embassies in the U.S. have joined Latino activists in decrying recent vigilante operations against Latino immigrants along the border. These diplomats have echoed the outrage expressed by Mexico's President Ernesto Zedillo and Secretary of Foreign Relations Rosario Green.

But their indignation rings hollow when you consider that long before they ever get to the border, Mexican immigrants are usually subject to robbery, harassment, rape, and murder, often at the hands of Mexican authorities themselves. And according to Mexico's National Human Rights Commission, Central American immigrants are often treated like criminals, kept in jails, and ill-fed by Mexican authorities.

For these bureaucrats, it seems, a citizen of Mexico or some Central American country does not gain basic human rights until he or she crosses the Rio Bravo. It's like a father who beats, starves, and abandons his child, then publicly accuses the child's foster parents of neglect.

Any underground railroad, I tell Smith and Groovy, would have to be an independent operation, made up of ordinary citizens.

"I don't know," says Smith, apparently snapping out of the daydream. "I'm all for an underground railroad. But a lot of people in the U.S. think these people are breaking the law by crossing the border illegally. How are you going to get their support?"

Not everyone in America is an Arizona vigilante, I tell him. Smith ponders the matter, then pulls up from the side of his bed a curious contraption, a small pack with a clear rubber tube coming out of it. He sucks on the tube. I want to ask him what it is but am too tired and simply go to bed instead. The next morning I ask him about the device.

"It's a CamelBak," he says, "something every immigrant in your underground railroad should have."