Gonzalo Torres smiles at a lake shore in Minneapolis. Torres remains in ICE custody in Louisiana despite signing a voluntary deportation agreement on Jan. 8, 2026. He was arrested by ICE in Burnsville on Jan. 6, 2026. Credit: Photo courtesy of Constanza Palma

Gonzalo Torres was ready to leave the United States. Now he’s stuck in a Louisiana jail. 

Torres, 29, and his girlfriend Constanza Palma, built a life in Minnesota, working multiple jobs and renting an apartment in Burnsville. But as Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents swarmed the Twin Cities this year, they made plans to return to their native Chile in early February.  

On Jan. 6, Torres went out to take photos of the couple’s cars to list them for sale. He didn’t come back. Multiple vehicles full of ICE agents had swooped into the parking lot and arrested him. Palma didn’t realize it at the time, but after he’d been gone for about 30 minutes, she started looking. 

“I looked out the window and saw our two cars outside, our little coffee cup was on top of one of the cars,” Palma told Sahan Journal in Spanish. “I imagine he was taking things out of the car to take the photos and set the cup up there when this all happened.”  

Torres, who had overstayed his visa, signed a voluntary deportation agreement on Jan. 8. He was told he’d be sent back to Chile by Jan. 15, Palma said. 

But three canceled flights later, Torres remains in custody at the Richwood Correctional Center in Louisiana, according to ICE records, with no clear timeline for his return. His family last spoke with him on Jan. 29, the day after his most recent deportation flight to Chile was canceled at the last minute. 

Torres is one of more than 3,000 immigrants arrested by ICE and Border Patrol agents in Minnesota amidst Operation Metro Surge, which the U.S. Department of Homeland Security (DHS) has called the largest immigration enforcement action in American history. 

His agreement to be immediately sent to his native country is the outcome DHS and Trump administration officials say they want, but weeks later, he’s living in what he has described to relatives as horrible conditions with no clear indication on when his suffering will end. 

His family hasn’t been able to talk with him in more than a week. The last time they spoke, he told them the jail bathrooms were overflowing with excrement and that he had to eat off the floor, Palma said. 

“Gonzalo doesn’t deserve to be out of touch with his family, he doesn’t deserve to be detained for so long,” Palma said. 

Sahan Journal’s attempts to reach Torres in detention have so far been unsuccessful. ICE and DHS have not responded to requests for comment. 

Palma and Torres’ mother, Erika Rios, spoke to Sahan Journal from Santiago, Chile, where they await his arrival. Torres moved to Minnesota in 2021; Palma came a year later. 

Voluntary departure

Palma looked and called around for Torres when he didn’t return to their apartment on Jan. 6. She spoke with a friend in the building who told her he’d chatted briefly with Torres but last saw him about half an hour earlier. Torres’ mother, Rios, and younger sister were visiting Minnesota at the time. They called and messaged him, growing more afraid by the minute. The hour felt like an eternity, Palma said. 

Gonzalo Torres, left, with his mother, Erika Rios, during the Christmas season. Torres remains in ICE custody in Louisiana despite signing a voluntary deportation agreement on Jan. 8, 2026. He was arrested by ICE in Burnsville on Jan. 6, 2026. Credit: Constanza Palma

Finally they heard from Torres. He told them five vehicles full of ICE agents had descended on him in the parking lot and taken him to the Whipple Building near the airport. Torres told her that he complied with the agents who surrounded him. 

“It’s as if he was one of the worst criminals, the most wanted on the FBI black list,” Palma said. 

The agents had permitted him to write down a number from his phone before he entered the building, Palma said. Because Torres had overstayed his visa, ICE agents told him that he didn’t have the right to an attorney or to go through a court process, according to Palma. 

Before he signed his voluntary departure on Jan. 8, Torres told Palma he asked ICE agents if he could buy his own plane ticket back to Chile, but it wasn’t allowed. Torres has one petty misdemeanor conviction for driving without a license, according to Minnesota court records. 

At first, Torres was content with his voluntary departure. He was planning to return anyway, and was told he’d be on a flight back within a week. He was shipped to El Paso, Texas, where his first flight was canceled on Jan. 15. He was moved to Louisiana on Jan. 25, in advance of a flight home that was also canceled. 

On Jan. 28, Torres was scheduled a third time to fly back to Chile. He was brought to an airport in Louisiana. He would be heading home, it seemed.

Palma had scheduled her own journey home that same day — they’d finally reunite after weeks apart. A friend picked her up and brought her to the airport. She was terrified that ICE might arrest her on the way, or inside the airport. But she made it on her flight. It wasn’t until she arrived in Chile that she learned Torres never made it. 

There had been mechanical issues with the plane Torres was supposed to board. 

“He was just about to get on the plane, when they sent them back to the correctional center in Richwood,” Palma said. 

‘Please get me out of here’ 

There are other Chileans in the same detention center in Louisiana with Torres awaiting a flight home. It could be a while. 

Palma and Rios contacted the Chilean Consulate in Houston, Texas. Officials there told them there was only one deportation flight to Chile each month, and that there are dozens of Chileans awaiting a trip home. They’re hopeful the next flight will be around Feb. 10, but are worried it could be canceled again. 

The Chilean Consulate in Houston did not respond to requests for comment. 

Conditions at Richwood have been terrible, Palma said. At times, running water and electricity has been cut, he told his family. 

An October 2025 USA Today article details the poor conditions at Richwood Correctional Center, including reports of pitiful food portions served cold, rancid beans and poor hygiene practices. 

“He told me, ‘Please, get us out of here,’” Palma said. “During our last call he was very anxious, very frustrated with the situation he’s in.”

Palma and Torres liked living in Minnesota. They were busy, and the cold was bitter, but it was worth it the rest of the year, she said. 

Torres worked as a bartender and waiter at a Peruvian restaurant in Burnsville, and also held a job with a landscaping company where he cut grass in the summer and plowed snow in the winter, Palma said. 

The couple worked often, and had a small group of friends. Torres had been a star youth tennis player in Chile, and played at public parks in the Twin Cities. 

Rios and her daughter visited Minnesota for the first time over Christmas. They knew Torres was planning to return to Chile on his own, and wanted to see where he had lived the last four years. Torres is a good son and a kind man, Rios said, who sent money back home and dearly loves his younger sister. 

“It’s been a huge source of anguish, not knowing what’s going on,” Rios told Sahan Journal.

Andrew Hazzard is a reporter with Sahan Journal who focuses on climate change and environmental justice issues. After starting his career in daily newspapers in Mississippi and North Dakota, Andrew returned...