Mr. Apolinar did not respond to several calls seeking comment, and aides said he was absent when journalists visited the mayor’s office, despite indications that he was present. Mr. Judkins said that his organization was very careful to follow the law and make sure no worker was charged illegal fees.

Despite accusations of underhanded or illegal practices by employers, several carnival workers who were waiting for visas this month said they enjoyed the carnival circuit.

Yes, there were days that stretched into the wee hours, patrons who vomited on the Zipper (a ride that involves being spun upside down in cages) and the occasional racist outburst from a parent whose child was not tall enough to board a ride. But there was also the chance to learn English, pick up some trendy, hand-me-down sneakers and leave the violence of Mexico behind.

Eduardo Torres, 25, who has worked two seasons for Murray Brothers in fairs across Kentucky, Indiana and Ohio, said he had never imagined traveling by airplane or visiting big cities. He marveled at what he called the “cool stuff” everywhere and picked up all sorts of used clothing. “It was a dream come true,” he said.

For Mr. Trujillo, whose favorite job was serving lemonade and hamburgers and learning English in the process — “like a little school” — the carnival became a window onto a more promising existence.

In the United States, said Mr. Trujillo, “if you dream about 15 things, you can buy five.”

In Tlapacoyan, he said, you dream, too. But when you open your eyes, of the things you dreamed about, “not one of them is there.”