For over a month, Alberto has hardly dared to leave the small room he rents in someone’s backyard for fear of encountering the masked police who have been rounding up immigrants in Los Angeles.

“It’s terrible,” sighed the 60-year-old Salvadoran, who does not have a US visa.

“It’s a confinement I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.”

To survive, Alberto — AFP agreed to use a pseudonym — relies on an organization that delivers food to him twice a week.

“It helps me a lot, because if I don’t have this… how will I eat?” said Alberto, who has not been to his job at a car wash for weeks.

The sudden intensification of immigration enforcement activity in Los Angeles in early June saw scores of people — mostly Latinos — arrested at car washes, hardware stores, on farms and even in the street.

Videos circulating on social media showed masked and heavily armed men pouncing on people who they claimed were hardened criminals.

However, critics of the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) sweeps say those snatched were only trying to earn a meagre wage in jobs that many Americans don’t want to do.

The raids — slammed as brutal and seemingly arbitrary — sparked a wave of demonstrations that gripped the city for weeks, including some that spiraled into violence and vandalism.

Alberto decided to hole up in his room after one such raid on a car wash in which some of his friends were arrested and subsequently deported.

Despite being pre-diabetic, he is hesitant to attend an upcoming medical appointment. His only breath of fresh air is pacing the private alley in front of his home.

“I’m very stressed. I have headaches and body pain because I was used to working,” he said.

In 15 years in the United States, Trump’s second term has turned out to be “worse than anything” for him.

Trump’s immigration offensive was a major feature of his re-election campaign, even winning the favor of some voters in liberal Los Angeles.

But its ferocity, in a place that is home to hundreds of thousands of undocumented workers, has taken the city by surprise.

Faced with mounting raids, migrants are limiting their movement as much as possible.

In June, the use of the public transportation system — a key network for the city’s poorer residents — dropped by 13.5 percent compared to the previous month.

“As you’re driving through certain neighborhoods, it looks like a ghost town sometimes,” said Norma Fajardo, from the CLEAN Carwash Worker Center, a non-profit organization that supports these workers.

It has joined forces with other groups to deliver hundreds of bags of food every week to those afraid to step outside.

“There is a huge need for this,” said the 37-year-old American.

“It’s very saddening and infuriating. Workers should be able to go to work and not fear getting kidnapped.”

In June, ICE agents arrested over 2,200 people in the Los Angeles area, according to internal documents analyzed by AFP.

About 60 percent of them had no criminal record.

Given the colossal resources recently allocated to ICE by Congress — nearly $30 billion to bolster immigration enforcement, including funding to recruit 10,000 additional agents — Fajardo says she is not expecting any let-up.

New Normal

“It seems like this is the new normal,” she sighed.

“When we first heard of an ICE raid at a car wash, we were in emergency crisis mode. Now we are just really accepting that we need to plan for the long term.”

Food assistance has also become essential for Marisol, a Honduran woman who has been confined to her building for weeks with 12 family members.

“We constantly thank God (for the food deliveries) because this has been a huge relief,” says the 62-year-old Catholic, who has not attended Mass in weeks.

Marisol — not her real name — has hung up curtains on the windows at her home entrance to block any view from outside.

She forbids her grandchildren from opening the door and worries enormously when her daughters venture out to work a few hours to provide for the family’s needs.

“Every time they go out, I pray to God that they come back, because you never know what might happen,” she said.

Marisol and her family fled a Honduran crime gang 15 years ago because they wanted to recruit her children forcibly.

Now, some of them wonder if it’s worth continuing to live in the United States.

“My sons have already said to me: ‘Mom, sometimes I would prefer to go to Europe.'”