I wish we could all opérate with the knowledge that we are all very closely related under the skin. Or even in the skin. But we are also all humans and subject to human weaknesses. Fear jerks us around with practically no effort. There is an article in the New York Times about how trauma and frightening situations cause us to misremember. Leaders can stoke up fear and then feed you images that you file under "DANGEROUS". From the beginning of his campaign, Trump has done this with immigrants. He's been pounding at these awful lies about immigrants for two years and more now. There are dangerous people in every culture. Mexico itself has regiones where I wouldn't feel happy by myself. But even in countries like El Salvador, Honduras and Guatemala where ordinary people are terrified by violent, lawless men, most people are not criminals, not rapists, not murderers. We have lived in Mexico for almost thirteen years. We live in MEXICO, not an American settlement in Mexico. our colonia, our village, has no other Americans. An Englishman, now a Mexican citizen, farms outside the colonia. We are as safe as in most places in the US which is to say pretty safe. In the US, I experienced personally more crime than I have here by a long shot.
We have neighbors who have gone to the US and come back here to Mexico, their home. Their stories are varied, but none of them are people to fear. Most of the people who want to enter the US had situations to fear in their Central American home countries. Some have had situations to fear in Mexico. They would not have made their incredibly difficult journeys if they didn't. Sometimes they cannot make a living at home, so they try to get to the US. It is, in a way, the fault of Americans for advertising the country as a land of plenty where anyone who makes the effort can succeed. If you wanted to feed your family and you heard that myth over and over, wouldn't you want to go to the US? And the US advertises itself as welcoming. Remember "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" This, of course is what greets us at the Statue of Liberty.
I am posting three links to articles, one by a former border agent remembering his experiences, one by that agent about a friend of his who now finds himself unable to return to his home and family in the US, and one by a Mexican angry at the unrelieved stereotypes Americans see in the media, on TV and in movies. They are all worth reading, and of course I hope you do. Please awaken to the horror that is Trump's border wall and the horrible racism he is stirring against people from south of the border. I will be happy to discuss this, to provide information, whatever. Just write comments.
The first is called "Has Any of Us Wept?" and it can be found here: http://www.nybooks.com/article
The second is called "Confessions of a Former Border Patrol Agent. It can be found here: https://www.gq.com/story/confe
The third is called Hollywood's Obsession with Cartels and it can be found here" https://nyti.ms/2H5AZT4
The first two are by Francisco Cantu, the third by Hector Tobar.
David Town frequently emails his friends about his life in Coatepec. A bachelor, he lives with a Mexican family and spends time with another which he has become close to. He has a good life with them. I have been meaning to post some of his descriptions for some time. Here is something he wrote today.
After several days in Boston, I am once again home in rainy Ursulo Galván. My kids and grandkids live in Boston and its environs as do some very good friends. Every time I go, I wish I could find some way to get beamed to Boston and back here, a la Star Trek, because the trip is not short, especially coming home. Unless you want to risk missing the only flight to Veracruz until the next night you have to wait over four hours in Houston. In spite of the title of this post, it is not really going to be about contrasts between Boston and The Greater Xico Metropolitan Area (thanks again, DT), although there are many, but between Italy and Mexico. And only briefly, at that.
In Sunday's New York Times, there is already online an article with the enticing title
Can a Gay, Catholic Leftist Actually Squelch Corruption in Sicily?
beautifully written, captivating, and melancholy by Marco de Martino describing Rosario Crocetta, current president of Sicily's governing body, and also life in Sicily, or rather political life in Sicily and Crocetta's perhaps doomed efforts to change it. Sicily appears like an evil caricature of Mexico, with corruption
Crocetta, center, with two bodyguards, Paolo Pellegrin/Magnum for The New York Times
and extortion and threats of murder, often carried out, shadowing every move a politician or a businessman makes.
"Everyone" (whoever everyone is) knows that corruption and so on are also rampant in Mexico. But it seems to me, it is not on anything near the scale it is in Sicily (or possibly in the US, or at least the Highway Department of the State of Texas [just kidding]). It has been charged, for instance, that corruption played a role in the apparently shoddy highway construction on the Autopista del Sol between Mexico City and Acapulco where landslides during the continuing torrential rains caused considerable damage.
Below, two pictures from El Universal of landslides on el Autopisto del Sol
In Insight Crime, Patrick Corcoran reports that the giant corporations of Mexico have written a letter to Peña Nieto complaining of frequent extortion threats in public works projects, especially in northern Mexico. The leaders of these companies are the richest men in Mexico (and some, in the world). This of course leads me to one of my favorite tangents: aren't these business leaders also guilty of some crime against the ordinary citizenry of Mexico and the world?) . Insight Crime concludes that corruption of this sort increased dramatically under Calderón My point with all of this is that in Mexico, people can COMPLAIN about it, can put possible perpetrators on the defensive, etc. etc. Mexico does not feel like Sicily.
And, of course, Boston is not squeaky clean, either.
Read Marco de Martino's article. It's really why I wrote the post.
From Insight Crime Today. We live pretty much in the center of Veracruz. Follow the link for the article.
It's no secret that there is poverty in Mexico. The government itself measures it and analyzes it and publicizes it. The agency responsible is CONEVAL, the National Council of Evauation of Social Development Policies at www.coneval.gob.mx. The measurement of poverty: methods, terms and results are laid out in excellent graphics here.
Today La Jornada presented a good summary of the results for 2012. Below,from La Jornada, is a cart showing the states with the largest percentage of poor people.
(Mexico, whose official name is Estados Unidos Mexicanos, has 31 states and the Distrito Federal which is Mexico City.)
The government measures at least five markers: income; nutrition; health; social security (meaning pensions and payments of various sorts to workers -- I am not clear about this) and the government's health care system; educational levels, and housing situation.
The current statistics show a slight reduction from 46.1% in 2010 to 45.5% in 2012,or 53.3 million people. People living in extreme porverty number 11.5 million or 9.8 percent. In te whole population, there are only 23.2 million people who are not vulnerable to falling into poverty. Our neighbors, as examples of vulnerability realized, were laid off (without any benefits) by Coca Cola. One man finally got a job driving for a security company, the other after considerably longer, got a stock job at the new Bodega Aurrera in Coatepec. The extended family came together, but it was hard for everyone although they got income from a miscellany of sources: picking coffee, two small tiendas, temporary work as cleaning people and in neighborhood construction. The government defines poverty as lacks in two of the markers; extreme poverty as lacks in 3 or more of the markers.Income for rural areas has to be at least 1490 pesos a month or 116.38 dollars a month. In cities, the minimum income is 2329 pesos or 182.69 dollars at today's rate of exchange. Where we live counts as rural. We are the sole regular income for our gardener. From us he gets between 960 pesos and 1440 pesos a month. A friend gives him a grant of 150 pesos a month to help cover his son's medicine which Seguro Popular does not cover, though it treats his son. He and his older boys pick coffee and they have some old-fashioned video games at the house that neighborhood kids pay to use.
Some things have improved, notably health care, with the expansion of Seguro Popular, or health insurance for everyone. This does meet basic needs, but often people don't have enough money to pay for medicines.
Schooling, via television, is available to all the kids in our Colonia. Most go through secondaria which ends at the equivalent of ninth grade. Those who drop out often do so to go to work for their families. We also have a Telebachillerato, the equivalent of high school. Kids who show some interest and aptitude for academic work continue in this. The woman who cleans for us has three daughters, two of whom are now in University. One is studying pedagogy, the other, business administration. This is quite a burden for the family although the husband is a well-respected house builder and construction worker and makes a good income when he has jobs. The woman makes 1360 in a four-week month with us, occasionally more when we need more. By itself, the round trip bus trip to the University for each girl is about 720 pesos a month. There are no bus passes.
Most living places in our colonia are adequate. Some people have benefitted from new houses built by the government (basic cinderblock construction), by a program to replace dirt floors with concrete, and from a program to replace interior wood-burning stoves with efficient wood-burning stoves with chimneys.
Generally, it is agreed that there has to be economic reform which enables people to make a living wage without moving to factories (which can only hire so many people anyway) in distant locations. NAFTA did away especially with much local farming and animal production.
Nutrition is an interesting issue. Mexico has been overrun with junk food which is sometimes cheaper than the good stuff people used to eat. Soda is often cheaper than bottled water. As a result, though health care is more accessible, rates of obesity and diabetes are increasing.
We roused ourselves at 4:55 yesterday morning to make the six o'clock bus to Mexico City. I am starting to enjoy this voyage as it crosses mountains and desert and savanna. On the way to DF, I finished reading a pretty junky mystery, but on the way home, I found myself glued to the window as the dry colors of the landscape, the fields and grassy plains and mountains whirred by. Between DF and Puebla on the west and Perote on the east, much of it is austere and majestic. For long stretches here are no power lines or road cuts, no houses, no factories. In the distance, an occasional pueblo lays thrown against a hillside. Towards the east, ribbons of green, where crops are irrigated, startle one's sense of place. The palette should be shades of brown and gray, and black often lurks. I sometimes wish I could memorize how it looks, glue it in my brain to retrieve it when I want to, to make it eternal, but I can't. Photos don't do justice either. I can just look and wonder.
The first time we crossed this landscape was perhaps twenty five years ago. At that time, after the bus left the then-broad roads of Mexico City, I remember driving on two-lane highways, going through downtown Puebla and finding ourselves on I think unpaved or terribly paved road as we turned on the western side of Cofre de Perote to head northeast towards Xalapa instead of south to Orizaba Cordoba . I don't remember many trees. My memories may deceive me. Today, however, the trip is mostly on smooth, seamless four lane highway that is unmarred by the clusters of commerce and shaved strip that marks so many freeways, even here in Mexico. There are increasing numbers of trees, their branches and needles and leaves a green-black in this dry season, I think the result of Mexico's reforestation efforts. They sometimes seem to be on the march, these trees, spreading down from the sometimes close, sometimes distant hills and mountains.They grow even in the midst of some of the dusty ploughed fields.
Update: My friend Babs has undertaken the challenging job of proofreading this post. I obviously need help in this department. I hope her efforts make it easier for you to read!
You wouldn't know it by reading the NY Times, but under the chairmanship of John Kerry, the Senate's Foreign Relations Committee has criticized the US role in the drug war with Mexico in an articulate and useful manner. David Brooks (not the NY Times David Brooks) reports on this in an article headlined on the front page of yesterday's La Jornada. Below I translate most of it.
There does seem to be some significant shifting of positions. This link sends you to a more US-oriented critique of US drug policy from David Simon, creator of the classic HBO series, The Wire.
I don't think there's any hope of overcoming the horrendous divide between Democrats and Republicans for the next US presidential election. I am no fan of Obama's, but if only because there's more of a chance for a LITTLE bit of reason to guide policy under Obama, I guess at this point I think it is important to vote for him.
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The deployment of armed forces to combat narcotraffic in Mexico has been "ineffective" and has even managed to worsen the violence concluded a report of the US Senate distributed today. It proposes a change of strategy, including sending more US personnel and money to prepare and facilitate police and judicial reforms necessary to reduce violence in our neighboring country.
The report, prepared by the Foreign Relations Committee of the US Senate was ordered by its chairman, Democratic Senator John Kerry, with the objective of offering a context for the development of bilateral strategies with the new Mexican president.
The diagnosis offered in the report confirms that "an extensive dependence of the military to confine illegality and directly confront the narcotrafic cartels appears to have been, in great measure, ineffective and, in some cases, has exacerbated the violence suffered by civilians." It indicates that in spite of the significant increases in the effort of President Felipe Calderón, "his anticrime strategy centered on combatting the capos has been amply criticized for putting Mexicans' daily necessities for security at a lower level."
Although it praised the efforts of President Calderón as well as the high level of bilateral cooperation which has been developed in recent years because of the Merida Initiative, the report maintains that the strategy has left "doubts" among the population about whether it can triumph owing to the "inability of the government to suppress the hyperviolence that is going on in certain parts of Mexico. Put simply, the majority of Mexicans lack confidence in the main tools the federal and state authorities use to comb at crime, with the police and the judicial system, given its history of widespread corruption and ineffectiveness." Furthermore, [the report] points out " the worrisome increase of allegations of serious violations of human rights against civilians by military personnel."
Senator Kerry declared, when releasing the report, that "the presidential transition in Mexico offers a new window for discussing Police Reforms in Mexico, It recommends that the US government increase its support for judicial and police reform at federal and state levels, with funds from the Merida Initiative for some 250 million dollars annually for four years. Thee funds include supporting US training of Mexican agents.
It appears that this recommendation implies a redoubling of efforts. The investigators of the Senate say that both governments already support the creation of an academy of public security for training state police of the whole country, and that such an academy has already opened its doors in May, 2012 in Puebla. The investigators add that the Mexican government increased from three to eight the states considered priorities for receiving US assistance in the "professionalization of police" in the context of the Merida Initiative. At this time, they report that with this effort, the United States is putting "expert consultants" in the police academies of Chihuahua, Nuevo Le{on, Sonora and Tamaulipas as well as helping to create specialized teams of state police in at least 21 states.
The authors of the report suggest that the US government increase efforts to implement mechanisms of accountability within the federal and state police in order to prevent corruption and abuse of human rights.
Reiterating that the deployment of the military to combat organized crime has had "limited success and, in some cases, has led to the violation of human rights," the report indicates that US efforts to increase police capacities will help to reduce the role of the armed forces in re-establishing internal security.
It recommends that the US government continue strengthening the investigative skills of the office of Attorney General, as they are also improving these skills at a state level. Under this rubric, the report said that the Agency for International Development (USAID) is already present in seven Mexican states in the implementation of judicial reforms including investigative abilities and that expanding this effort to thirteen other states is being considered.
At the same time, the US Department of Justice is doing something similar at the federal level in Mexico, including giving courses on new investigative procedures and training personnel in the Attorney General of the Republic´s office.
Although the report does not dwell on the point, it recognizes that it has "to do more" to deal with problems in its own country which contribute to the violence in Mexico, such as reducing the demand for illicit drugs, lessening the flow of weapons into the countr to the south, and combatting money laundering in US financial institutions.
I put up a mild post with some translations of Oliver Stone's statements in connection with his new movie, "Savages", which appeared in La Jornada and BBC Mundo. But for some more explosive commentary on Stone, see InSight Crime, one of my favorite sites for violent news, which will send you to some further links. I avoid writing specifically about this stuff. The idea of doing so scares me, and I don't know anything more than I read in well-thumbed sources in any event.
Mexfiles offers a post from Ganchoblog. All these folks point out that Oliver Stone's figures don't add up. En mi opinion, los gringos who live in Gringolandia get all their (mis)information from north of the border.
Regarding the elections in Mexico. MexFiles offers some good and amusing commentary in English on the Mexican elections for those of you up north who want to know more about what was/is going on. The Americas Program offers more comprehensive coverage, also in English. Yesterday we went to our dentist whose office is on a quiet street in a pretty middle class residential suburbanish area. The community bulletin board outside was filled with notices of peaceful activities for citizens to partake in to help AMLO in his fight against the Powers that Be.
If you live anywhere in the Xalapa-Teocelo-Xico area, it's worth taking a look at Zapateria Yessy for your shoes.
Zapateria Yessy is on the right side towards the top of the main street going into Teocelo from the Crucero, the main crossroads on the Coatepec-Xico carretera.. It is an unprepossessing store, mostly tightly packed shelves of shoes in a dim space. But like all good "finds" it is stuffed full of all kinds of wonderful shoes at very affordable prices. In the back, there is also an array of jewelry and trinkets and clocks and sometimes children´s toys. The prices are good and low and the products are as far as I can tell mostly made in Mexico. I especially like to buy fancy shoes there like the ones below. And I also especially like to buy shoes there because, for some reason, the lasts fit me better than those of US shoes.
I especially like to buy fancy shoes there like these:
And these:
But you can (and I have) bought all kinds of shoes from flip flops to hiking boots and sandals and golden shoes for my daughter's wedding.
The Zapateria Yessy is owned by Don Antonio Vazquez and his wife Doña Josefina They and their son Victor and new daughter-in-law Tere manage it.
Here are Victor and Tere outside the store:
And here is Tere adding up my (very reasonable) bill.
While you're there, pick up a pair of walking shoes and take a tour of Teocelo, a most interesting town and the home of Radio Teocelo. Ask anyone for directions to the restaurant past Santa Rosa that overlooks Texolo Falls if you're hungry after hiking around. It has one of the best restaurant views around.
And tell Tere, Victor, Don Antonio and Doña Josefina that Esther sent you.
CHAPTER 1 A Brief Report on All That Is Wrong with US Air Travel Based on My Trip from Boston to Veracruz
Nothing really new here. Anyone who travels by air could tell about the same story. You can skip Chapter 1 if you want and go directly to Chapter 2.
It started like a perfectly normal day for traveling. No bad weather, at least not in Boston. But the United Airlines plane from Boston to Houston was about 45 minutes late arriving in Boston. This didn't bother me a whole lot because I had a four hour plus layover in Houston and anything (safe) that would cut into that was fine with me (though not with people who'd miss their flights). We made good time down towards Houston and the pilot announced that we'd not only be touching down but actually pulling into the gate in 45 minutes -- having made up much of the delay.
Then his voice, doleful now, said, "Sorry folks, they've completel shut down the Houston airport due to storms. We have to detour to New Orleans. This was no short-term delay. An hour each way to and from Houston, delays in New Orleans because SOMEHOW we kept having to wait: for the fuel truck, for the fueling, for our place in the take-off line, for our place in the take off line AGAIN. Maybe four hours later we arrived in Houston. Luckily, lo and behold, I had just enough time to make the flight to Veracruz. I ran to the little train to terminal B, ran from the train station to the gate. The door for my flight was SLAMMED SHUT.
Good luck again. I had not missed my flight! The plane had not yet arrived. When would it arrive I asked the attendant. "Who knows?" She said. "Not too long, though. Don't go too far." I bought an absolutely terrible squashed-into-plastic-wrap turkey and cheese sandwich with a tiny packet of mustard. So maybe half an hour later, the plane arrived, disgorged its passengers, and we got on. And the plane backed out of the gate, and backed up and backed up and backed up and backed up, and then drove forward not to the runway but to the gate again. It did this twice. "Sorry folks," said the captain. "Something is overheating to the point of burning. We have to call an engineer.
So we ended up being REALLY late to Veracruz. (Though I have to say, coming in to the city was beautiful. Under the clouds ribbons of fog draped over the sparkly lights of the city.) The plane was SO late that the shuttle to Xalapa that usually waits didn't wait. It was after midnight. (And I have to mention -- nah, don't have to, but want to, that the flight attendant on the Houston-Veracruz link had the shrillest, loudest ugliest voice I have ever heard coming from a flight attendant or many other people and she didn't speak a word of Spanish and got impatient with people who didn't speak English, and on the other hand, she only had immigration forms in Spanish which she couldn't help English speakers with! AND there was nothing but the tattered air safety cards that offered anything bilingual.)
ANYWAY, since I'd missed the shuttle a very nice mother and son gave me a ride to the main Veracruz bus terminal. Unfortunately, I had also just missed the last express bus from Veracruz to Xalapa. The NEXT bus was a local that you had to wait for out on the street which got to Xalapa at 4:00 in the morning and there were no other buses after that to Xalapa until the morning. So I acted with my usual common sense and decided to take a taxi (well I reasoned that a hotel room and a taxi to the bus station and the bus fare would be even more expensive if safer).
CHAPTER 2 A Middle-of-the-Night Taxi Ride from Veracruz to Xalapa
I asked the last remaining ticket agent if there were authorized cabs. "Right there," she said indicating a line of them on the street in front of the bus station. They all had the same company name so I took her word for it. When I said I wanted to go to Xalapa, only one driver showed any interest. "How much," I asked. "800 pesos," he said, or roughly $60.00 US. I looked him over quickly. At least he was a bit smaller than I am and didn't appear to be carrying any weapons. We lugged my baggage over to his cab and I got in the back seat. "Momentito," said a man on the curb. "You will need fresh air." He opened the door and turned down the window and held out his and for a tip. "Naah," I said and the taxi driver drove off, brakes(or something) squealing. "You will take me to Xalapa, right?" I asked hopefully and naively. "I promise," he said. "I never break my promises." "And I'll be safe with you?" "Of course." He immediately drove off the main road. "So where are we going?" I want to buy a soda. It's a long trip. Would you like a bottle of water?" We drove to a store which appeared all locked up, but amazingly, a man opened the door with a bottle of water for me and a coke for him. "How much," I asked. "Nada. You will pay me enough."
And still we didn't head back to the highway. "Now where?" I asked. "I have to buy gas, check the oil, he said. He drove a curleque route and paused in front of a very fancy house. "My house," he said. "Oh," I said. "Very impressive." He laughed. "Just kidding." "You're sure you're taking me to Xalapa?" "Very," he said. "Here is the Pemex." It was a smallish Pemex which indeed seemed to cater to taxi drivers, a number of whom were pulled into it checking oil, tires, gas, etc.
We did actually head onto the highway at that point, the taxi groaning and squeaking and going pretty fast. We started to talk in a more relaxed way. He'd worked in the States for 15 years and had had to come back. I asked if he spoke English. "Not really. No one spoke it at all when I was in the southern states, and my jefe in California spoke Spanish to us." He loved California and I wondered why he'd left. I gather he was caught in a sweep of illegal immigrants. As we slowed to go through Cardel, he asked if I would sit up front just so we wouldn't have to shout at each other to carry on a conversation. He pulled off the road and I climbed in next to him.
He turned out to be totally courteous and careful and told me about his life in the US. For ten years he had been on a team of sorts made up of migrants who, under the direction of a very strict boss, worked their way from Florida to North Carolina month by month harvesting. They lived in bunk houses. They could be sent home for being found drunk or for "being with a woman." He told me that mostly they didn't want to go to the towns anyway because some shopkeepers wouldn't serve or sell to them and lots of people called them names. All the people on his team were married and sent the money they got home to their families.
Finally he got fed up and somehow made his way to the wine country of California where he spent the next five years with a jefe, an American vintner, who treated his workers well. He clearly cared for this man and said he was the one who showed him that there were indeed good gringos.
His trip to California, or maybe his trip up from Mexico, took him through Arizona. The highway we were on was completely dark and almost completely without traffic. Sometimes dark cliffs loomed on either side of the road. "Like Arizona," he said. "It reminds me how scared I was."
I wanted to be sure we'd take the cuota. "Of course," he told me. "The free road is dangerous at night." "Potholes," I asked, knowing that wasn't the reason. "No. Big dark cars with scary people in them," he said, and we both laughed nervously.
The trip went fast. He asked me lots of questions and I did the same. I had told him I had just come from visiting family in Boston. "Why do you live here if you could live in Boston?" I told him I knew it was very hard here for poor people, but for people like my husband and me who were neither rich nor poor, it was much more interesting than life in the US for retired folks like us. There was a life to live here. And in the US it was easy to become isolated or to move into a place where there were only old people. And I told him I found Mexico endlessly interesting. "How," he wanted to know. "actually, I told him, one of the things I like best is that it reminds me of how it was when I grew up in the Bronx: people living right next to each other, little stores on the streets which always seemed busy, neighbors you knew. People weren't necessarily nice," I told him, "But they were always involved with each other. And you could smell cooking and a lot of other stuff walking down the street. "But your family is in Boston." "And Oakland, and St. Louis and Spain," I said. "All over the place." For him, Mexico and family was everything, though he would go back to northern California to work again and send money home if he could only go legally and return regularly. But that is virtually impossible, even for people who haven't a black mark against them for being deported.
One thing bothered him, just a little thing, he said. "Why do Americans like dogs so much? I know they are smart: they're smarter than people. They trick you into giving them food by acting like they care for you, but if you can't give them food, they're gone: they forget all about you."
I told him we have four dogs and that we kid ourselves that they all really care about us.
When we arrived at the outskirts of Xalapa he confessed he didn't really know how to get to CAXA, the bus terminal, that he hadn't been to Xalapa since before he left for the US.So I told him to go up to Avenida 15 de Noviembre, where the sculpture that looked tome like a giant Christmas tree was and turn left. When he saw the sculpture, he laughed. "An upside down tree," he said. "And to me it is pretty ugly. Why do they make stuff like that?"
We made our way to CAXA and lo and behold and miraculously, there was Jim, still waiting for me, though on the verge of going home. We were both exceedingly relieved to see each other. It made the cabdriver smile. I paid him and tipped him much more than Jim thought I should but both the driver and I felt like we'd made friends with each other.
So should you take a taxi from Veracruz to Xalapa in the middle of the night? You're going to have to decide that for yourself. And if you do decide to, make sure to take the Cuotas.