The crack that appeared this week on a major highway in Michoacán.
Authorities closed a section of the Siglo 21 highway in Michoacán on Wednesday after discovering a 150-meter-long crack in the road.
The large crack affects both lanes between Santa Casilda and the Cuatro Caminos junction, presenting a risk to all passing traffic.
Civil Protection officials inspected the crack following a request by Autopistas de Michoacán, the agency responsible for the highway.
They decided to close the highway for 10 to 15 days to repair the damage, believed to have been caused by structural problems with a bridge.
Buses and heavy trucks are using the Uruapan-Cuatro Caminos highway as a detour while smaller vehicles can re-enter the highway after the closed section at the Santa Casilda toll booth.
Highway personnel are working to install signage indicating the detours.
A motorcyclist in México state recorded five people riding on a scooter, an arrangement commonly called a “moto-sardine” and a sight that is common throughout Mexico.
But seldom does one see more than three riders at a time.
The motorcyclist, who is riding and recording at the same time, pulled alongside the scooter and its five precariously perched riders, who turned their heads away from the camera to avoid identification.
In some if not all of Mexico’s states it is illegal to carry more than the number of passengers for which the vehicle was designed.
It is also against the law to carry cargo or passengers in such a way that it obstructs the view of the driver or the balance of the vehicle, as was clearly the case in the video.
MOTOSARDINAS!! pero tampoco esta bien ir manejando e ir granbando!!! ambos se ponen en riesgo y ponen en riesgo a los demás!! pic.twitter.com/AmOS7q03ya
— #NiUnRepartidorMenos (@repartidorr) May 20, 2021
But as always, the law is one thing and enforcement is another.
Yaqui communities in the coastal municipality have been fishing every May for cannonball jellyfish since 2000.
It’s May, and that means that Yaqui residents of Guaymas, Sonora, are once again going to sea for their annual jellyfish catch in the Gulf of California.
Since the year 2000, men and women from Yaqui communities in the coastal municipality have been fishing every May for cannonball jellyfish, a species eaten in Asian countries such as China, Japan and Thailand and used in the manufacture of cosmetics and medicines.
One community where many women are involved in the annual jellyfish fishery is Guásimas de Belem, located about 40 kilometers from the city of Guaymas. Residents have had a license to catch cannonball jellyfish, known locally as aguamala, since 2011.
Locals rise early in the morning to go to sea on small fishing boats known as pangas. Catching the jellyfish, an activity that allows many women to achieve economic independence, is simple, according to the newspaper Milenio, requiring only a panga, fuel, a net and a packed lunch to keep hunger at bay.
However, aguamala fishing is also very dangerous. Small pangas are filled with four to six tonnes of jellyfish, which can cause them to tip over or sink.
“It’s risky for a woman, and even more so because they’re not used to doing heavy work,” said fisherman Baldomero González.
One Yaqui woman who has continued to fish for aguamala year after year despite the risks is María Estela Guitimea.
“What are we going to do? That’s life. It’s hard, we have to work. If we don’t fish, there’s no money for frijoles [beans],” she said.
Guitimea goes fishing year-round with her husband, but in May, they focus on catching cannonball jellyfish.
“It’s teamwork: he operates [the boat], and we both fish with nets; I’m at the front, and he’s at the back. … You never know if you’ll make it back [to land]. That’s why I ask God to save me from any problems I might have,” she said.
“One has to earn a living. I like the sea but sometimes the pangas flip over,” she added, saying that she’s more concerned about drowning than being attacked by a marine animal such as a shark.
Once the jellyfish are brought back to Guásimas, they are inspected to make sure that they measure the minimum required length of 11 centimeters. The Yaquis then sell their catch to the Chinese owners of processing plants set up annually in the town. (Three processing plants usually operate in Guásimas, but only one was set up this year because strong winds had a negative impact on the cannonball jellyfish season.)
A kilo of aguamala sells for between 1.8 and 4 pesos (about US $0.10 to $0.20), which doesn’t sound like much but adds up given that each panga brings in daily catches of four to six tonnes.
Yaqui women also earn money preparing the jellyfish for export in the processing plants.
“Our earnings come from the tonnes [of aguamala] we process,” said Jessica Canales, one of the employees.
Nancy García, a single mother, told Milenio that the work she is currently doing at the plant helps her support herself and her two-year-old daughter.
“[The work] helps us because we don’t have to depend on anyone. We are able to give food to our children without needing a man,” she said.
According to the National Aquaculture and Fisheries Commission, more than 12,300 tonnes of cannonball jellyfish were exported from Mexico last year, generating an economic spillover of 30.5 million pesos (US $1.5 million).
Pilots used to take medical exams to renew their licenses at Transportation Ministry medical centers like these, but now they must go to a Mexico City location.
Many commercial pilots are flying with expired licenses and out-of-date medical examination results, according to a report by the newspaper Reforma.
Pilots have been unable to renew their licenses and attend medical examinations for more than a year, the report said.
“The argument: the pandemic. The reality: the limitations imposed by the federal administration.”
“What’s happening is incredible,” an unnamed commercial pilot told the newspaper, saying that many pilots are unable to book medical checks at a specialized clinic in Mexico City because only five appointments are given per day. “This has been happening since April 2020. There is an extension [to get the checks] … until June 30, but we’re flying without having been checked by a doctor — this is absurd.”
Pilots and officials at the Mexico City airport said 25 centers across the country where pilots could complete medical checks and have their licenses renewed were shut down in 2019 by the current government as part of its austerity drive.
As a result, pilots can only get their health checks and renew their licenses in Mexico City, as was the case a decade ago.
One airport official claimed that the government has taken the pilot accreditation process back 30 years. The regression, coupled with the pandemic, has created a “tremendous bottleneck” of pilots trying to keep their credentials up to date, he said.
The official said pilots who haven’t completed medical examinations for more than a year could have undiagnosed medical conditions affecting their ability to fly.
“They could have a vision problem, a headache that could … be something serious and no one knows, but the pilot flies,” he said.
The Federal Aviation Administration said it downgraded Mexico from Category 1 to Category 2 after finding that it doesn’t meet standards set by the International Civil Aviation Organization, a specialized agency of the United Nations.
Gator Boy Paul Bedard, right, instructs how to use a capture pole on a crocodile.
In Part 3 of “The Crocodile Chronicles,” our would-be reality TV producers in Mazatlán had managed to transport five live crocodiles across Sinaloa from the reptiles’ home on a farm to the Mazatlán Aquarium, where they would live during the filming process. A week later, it’s time for the cast and crew of The Gator Boys to arrive and start doing what they do best: wrangling crocs out of neighborhood pools.
The Captured Tourist Woman (TCTW) had been working with the manager of our local international airport to ensure a smooth arrival for the Gator Boys and their crew and to organize the first Mazatlán scenes recorded for two episodes of their Animal Planet cable show, The Gator Boys.
It had been decided that the first shoot would take place at the airport’s arrivals area. Eric, our producer, had arranged for a five-person mariachi band to serenade the cast and crew as they emerged into the public waiting area of the airport.
But then, one of the cast members jumped the gun and came out alone. He needed to go back in so that he could come out with the group on camera. However, as he was not a man with much travel experience under his belt, he was disconcerted and offended to learn that the security guards would not allow him to return to the secured area, and he was inclined to make a lot of noise, letting everyone know of the offense caused.
Drama from the moment of arrival!
Gator Boys star Jimmy Riffle, left, and Jorge del Rincón Jarero, then the director of the Mazatlán Aquarium.
Of course, TCTW had the airport manager on speed dial, so within 20 minutes the scene was shot with the whole group emerging, carrying luggage and wearing smiling faces. These people had been on Mexican soil for all of 15 minutes and had already clocked up a 20-minute delay.
Anyway, the mariachi band blasted out the Mexican Revolution rendition of La Cucaracha — after all we are in Sinaloa:
La cucaracha, la cucaracha,
ya no puede caminar
porque no tiene, porque le falta
marihuana que fumar.
The cockroach, the cockroach,
can’t walk anymore
because it doesn’t have, it’s lacking
marijuana to smoke.
By this time, a small crowd had gathered and was quite enjoying the performance, especially since the gringos had no idea what the lyrics meant.
After extensive searching, we had found the required young, beautiful Mexican woman, requested earlier by our producer. She would be added to the aquarium team. Pamela did not in any way disappoint. Her presence was a positive addition to the growing cast and crew, and her megawatt-level smile came to her face quickly and often.
There were additional arrivals as well as the regular Gator Boys cast and crew: they had been accompanied by several friends and family who had jumped at the chance to come to Mexico and play with crocodiles.
One of our tour guide van drivers was given the role of the “village elder” who would regale the viewing audience with the legend of El Diablo, a monster-sized snapper. The other van driver would be in the background of a couple of scenes, as well as the roustabouts (i.e., local friends) who carried around the abundance of falderal required for the production.
The general mood of all present was upbeat as well as very curious about life in Mexico. Eric, the director, had been talking up Mazatlán for years, so expectations were sky-high.
One of the cast members had asked if the people in Mazatlán spoke American. I am still not sure whether the question was in jest or a stark reminder of the marginal educational system in some areas of the States. Either way, it set the tone for these strangers in a strange land.
We decided to shoot our first scene the following day: we would stage the croc’s appearance in the pool of a condo secured for this purpose.
On the way there, Eric stopped the procession at a washed-out bridge with a pond of murky water. It was time to practice crocodile wrangling.
A croc box was manhandled to the edge of a steep, sandy bank above the water. After everyone dragged the confused reptile out of the box, it was turned loose. It wasted no time getting straight to the bottom of the pond.
Gator Boy Paul did the catch with a capture pole and brought the thrashing reptile up to dry land, where three people quickly straddled the eight-foot beast while covering its eyes with a towel. The rope from the capture pole was removed, and the croc’s mouth was wrapped with several turns of black electrical tape. This was the first lesson for the aquarium crew, who watched everything closely. What they had just seen would be the standard routine for all the captures.
Since we had rented only five crocodiles to use in six or seven captures, I asked Eric about the audience seeing the same croc twice. He assured me that he had that detail covered and with several cans of spray paint for quick makeovers. Ah, “reality” TV.
We arrived at the condo already late, but the residents were excited by the prospect of having a crocodile paddle around their pool. It was decided to use the smallest of our rental crocs for the pool scene, a petite six-footer.
The cast and crew of The Gator Boys in Mazatlán. The man in the center with the big smile is Sinaloa’s former tourism minister, Francisco Manuel Córdova Celaya.
As the crew set up, the crocodile was placed into the pool. Several condo owners were being briefed about the on-camera hysteria they would be asked to exude. So things were running smoothly, I was thinking.
No.
TCTW got a phone call from an assistant. She was told that the Sinaloa minister of tourism wanted to greet us all and meet The Gator Boys. Just what we needed, to be taking time on public relations for a politician when our schedule was already awry!
Sure enough, he appeared with an entourage of assistants and photographers and videographers and reporters trailing behind him. Of course, everything came to a halt for the photo op and the interviews. He posed between the two Gator Boys for several shots and then with various members of the cast and crew.
A veteran of Mexican politics, his toothy smile was radiant at all appropriate moments. All this time, the croc was making itself at home in the pool, floating around and looking a lot like an inflatable pool toy.
Several of the condo owners had small, yappy dogs which were going increasingly nuts over the predator in the pool. It was becoming a little difficult to talk at a comfortable level. A Gator Boy went to the dog owners.
He graciously and carefully explained that in Florida, small yappy dogs were alligators’ preferred food. And, he told them, he suspected that the same would apply to Mexican crocs as well.
This revelation quickly cleared the area of small yappy dogs.
Eventually, the tourism minister, with his cortege close behind, returned to the waiting press vans and SUVs, then turned back toward Mazatlán proper. It was time to wake up the now-snoozing crocodile and make him look dangerous.
The writer describes himself as a very middle-aged man who lives full-time in Mazatlán with a captured tourist woman and the ghost of a half-wild dog. He can be reached at [email protected].
A 23-year-old Zapotec student from a village of 400 inhabitants in Oaxaca has won a scholarship to study at Harvard University.
Ramiro González Cruz, from San Isidro El Costoche in Oaxaca’s Sierra Sur, will study entrepreneurship in emerging economies at one of the world’s most prestigious educational institutions.
González, whose mother is a housewife and his father a farmer, has plans to help local entrepreneurs export their products.
The 23-year-old left home in his largely Zapotec speaking community at 16 to complete middle and high school in the state capital, 133 kilometers away.
Despite dreams of higher education, economic necessity took him to Sinaloa to work in tomato and chile fields.
He returned to Oaxaca to study at the Technological University of the Central Valleys, earning a vocational qualification in business development and graduating with a bachelor’s degree in business innovation and marketing. He then spent time in Peru as a volunteer in the Faculty of Business Engineering at the Continental University of Peru.
González has acted as a translator of Zapotec in state public defender’s office to assist non-Spanish speakers and was a promoter for the UN’s 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development.
The young Zapotec announced his triumph on social media. “I am pleased to share I have been accepted into the Harvard University Crossroads Emerging Leaders Program … this program has transformed the lives of first-in-family university students worldwide by identifying and fostering talent to train leaders from those communities,” he said.
The Technological University of the Central Valleys also extended its congratulations. The Crossroads Emerging Leaders Program began in 2017 and aims to discover otherwise “lost Einsteins” by providing opportunities to first-in-family college students.
Reyna González Amador might have remained yet another missing person statistic if not for her husband being a police commander.
A suspected serial killer who was arrested last week would likely still be at large had his final victim not been the wife of a police commander.
Andrés N. was taken into custody at his home in Atizapán de Zaragoza, México state, where authorities found women’s belongings such as shoes, makeup and voter IDs, notebooks filled with women’s names, and thousands of bone fragments. The suspect reportedly admitted to killing and eating numerous women over a period of 20 years.
The Associated Press (AP) said in a report published Thursday that due to a lack of funding, training or professionalism, prosecutors in Mexico have “routinely failed to stop killers until the bodies pile up so high they are almost unavoidable.”
Andrés N.’s long run of avoiding the law came to an end after a police commander identified by AP only as Bruno assumed the responsibility to investigate the disappearance of his wife himself.
Relatives of Flor Ninime, a young woman whose voter ID card was found in the suspect’s house, wait for information last week.
The 72-year-old suspect, a former butcher, is accused of murdering 34-year-old Reyna González Amador on May 14. Authorities found parts of González’s body, a bloody hacksaw and a knife on a table in a makeshift basement in the suspect’s home.
Sergio Baltazar, a lawyer for the victim’s family, told AP that Bruno had the same frustrating experience as most Mexicans when he reported his wife’s disappearance to prosecutors’ offices. “The detectives really let him down,” he said. “They didn’t want to help him.”
However, unlike most Mexicans, as a police commander Bruno had the means to conduct his own investigation.
“Bruno did a lot of the investigative work on his own,” Baltazar said. That work included reviewing footage captured by police surveillance cameras.
According to AP, Andrés was a friend of Bruno and Reyna’s family, and the victim had been scheduled to take the suspect with her on a semiweekly trip to a wholesale market to purchase supplies for her small cellphone shop. The septuagenarian, nicknamed “El Viejo” (The Old Man) by the family, was considered a kind of “charity case” by the couple and their children, AP said, noting that they invited him to their home and gave him meals. He was to accompany Reyna in order to help her carry supplies she intended to purchase in the market.
After his wife failed to return home, Bruno called Andrés, who told him that Reyna didn’t show up for the planned shopping trip. But security camera footage reviewed by Bruno showed that she had entered the street where Andrés lived and never exited.
Forensic experts inside Andres N.’s house. The suspect has admitted to killing at least 20 women.
Two days later, Bruno, having become extremely worried about the wellbeing of his wife, went to Andrés’ house with Reyna’s brother. He ordered police to wait near the man’s home.
Andrés became nervous but allowed Bruno into his home, AP said, noting that the old man told the victim’s husband that he wouldn’t find anything. But inside the house, Bruno dialed his wife’s cell phone and heard it ringing below the floor of the home in “what turned out to be a makeshift basement with a narrow entrance,” AP said.
“He discovered what remained of the body. Andrés tried to run, but the waiting police swooped in.”
Baltazar said the suspect admitted to some murders — as many as 30, according to some media reports — but then became reticent.
“He says there are five that he remembers, but then when they showed him the notebooks [with the lists of names], he says he doesn’t remember,” he said.
The lawyer also noted that Andrés admitted that he made recordings of murders he committed.
The suspect, Andres N., was arrested only after Reyna González’s husband used his privileges as a police commander to investigate surveillance footage.
Prosecutors have not yet offered an estimate about how many victims there were, but based on the ID cards and bone fragments found at Andrés’ house and the names in the notebooks, there could be 15 or more, AP said.
Given the age and physical condition of the suspect, prosecutors should investigate the possibility that Andrés didn’t act alone, Baltazar said.
“It is hard to believe he had the strength to do this himself. There were probably accomplices,” he said.
However, it appears unlikely that prosecutors will broaden their investigation as law enforcement officials in Mexico are generally happy to attribute as many murders as they can to a single suspect, even when there is suspicion that others were involved.
María de la Luz Estrada, head of the National Citizens Observatory on Femicide, told AP that it seems that investigators favor lone serial killer theories so that they don’t have to carry out more thorough investigations.
“Talking about serial killers in the context of so much impunity worries me because what we have seen is that [authorities] don’t investigate,” she said.
Andrés, however, seems certain to be found guilty given the overwhelming evidence against him, provided he makes it to court: this week, inmates at the crowded prison where he was in custody attempted to kill him, forcing authorities to transfer him to another facility.
The Metro conductor and, on the floor at right, the evidence.
A driver on the Mexico City Metro has been suspended from his duties after passengers caught him with a beer can in the conductor’s cabin on Tuesday.
Chaotic video footage from Candelaria station, on line 1, shows a beer can and a woman accompanying the driver in the cabin as passengers shout accusations.
In one video a woman zooms in on the evidence: “There are the beer cans, it’s already recorded without a problem,” she can be heard saying, to which the driver reacts with agitation.
Another video shows a tense altercation as the driver’s colleagues attempt to protect him before he is arrested by police.
The authority responsible for the Metro, the STC, confirmed on Wednesday that the driver had been suspended.
In a statement the STC said it had initiated the process to sanction the driver with the aim of terminating his contract. It also confirmed he will face legal proceedings.
Baggers are back at work at a Chedraui store in Mexico City.
Seniors have returned to supermarkets in Mexico City to bag groceries for customers’ tips after a year and a half off work due to the Covid-19 pandemic.
Chedraui is one store that has brought back their grocery baggers while Mexico City remains yellow on the coronavirus stoplight risk map, but other supermarkets are waiting for the capital to go green.
All of the “cerillitos,” as the baggers are affectionately known, need to be vaccinated and wear a face mask in order to return, according to the newspaper Milenio.
One grocery bagger said that returning to work would provide health benefits. “My family is happy that I’ve come back to work. They said it will help not to be sitting all day, and that it will improve my circulation,” he said.
He also attested to the health measures enforced by the store. “I already have my two vaccinations. In fact, the company spoke to me and asked me if I was inoculated, so we returned with all the sanitary measures,” he said.
Another grocery bagger, Don Rafael, 65, was happy to get back to work on Tuesday to supplement his pension.
“I’ve returned with a lot of energy. I was hoping to get out of the house and have more income, because the pension that the government gives me isn’t enough to pay rent, food and household expenses. Now more than ever I won’t pass up this opportunity,” he said.
Don Rafael’s streak continued when a customer handed him a scratch card as a tip, revealing a 100 peso prize. “I’m very lucky, now I can be calmer now that I will take more money home,” he said.
However, one senior, Don Lució Salazar, said he felt nostalgic for colleagues that would not be returning to work after falling victim to the pandemic. “I’m happy to be here, but I no longer see many friends. Don Otto from the morning shift who passed away, or Doña Luisa who will also be greatly missed here,” he said.
Walmart, Bodega Aurrera and Soriana are waiting for Mexico City to go green on the coronavirus risk map before inviting grocery baggers back.
Michoacán gubernatorial candidate Juan Antonio Magaña, in the dark vest, takes a triumphant stance with his campaign team on Aguililla's streets on Wednesday. photos from Facebook
A Green Party (PVEM) candidate for governor of Michoacán has become the first person among those vying for the state’s top job to visit Aguililla, a violence-plagued municipality in the Tierra Caliente region.
Juan Antonio Magaña, a state Supreme Court judge and a former attorney general for the state, spent two hours in the municipal seat on Wednesday, where he held a campaign rally.
He is one of seven candidates contesting the June 6 election for governor. Morena party candidate Alfredo Ramírez Bedolla is currently ahead in the polls.
According to a report by the newspaper Milenio, Magaña told a woman selling aguas frescas (flavored beverages) at a gas station on the outskirts of Apatzingán that he was heading to Aguililla, where the Jalisco New Generation Cartel and the Cárteles Unidos are fighting each other for control.
“Do you have a bulletproof vest?” the vendor inquired. “No,” responded the candidate, “but whoever wants to be governor has to travel through Michoacán, and Aguililla is Michoacán.”
Magaña speaks to residents in Aguililla. He’d been advised to skip the visit after a gunfight occurred there earlier in the day.
Magaña told Milenio that members of his family and campaign team tried to persuade him to reschedule his visit to the municipality because there was a gunfight there early on Wednesday. But he refused, confident that his “goodwill” would protect him.
The PVEM candidate did make it in and out safely, but he wasn’t able to completely avoid criminal activity.
On the Apatzingán-Aguililla highway — blocked for about four months by trenches, stones and vehicles before it was cleared by police last month — Magaña and his entourage, accompanied by state police, encountered a blockade in the form of a tractor-trailer that had been set alight by a criminal group.
“It angers me. It angers me as a citizen because this cannot happen in my state,” the candidate said.
When he arrived in the city, Magaña didn’t come across a bustling town but one replete with shuttered businesses, their facades scarred with bullet holes.
“… About half the town has left,” Antonio Navarrete, who attended the candidate’s rally, told Milenio, referring to the exodus of Aguililla residents due to the violence. “There are shootouts every day, … last night it was from two to three or four in the morning, and that’s the way it is every day.”
Despite the dangers, Magaña criticized his fellow candidates for not visiting Aguililla and listening to the concerns of residents.
“Aguililla is also Michoacán, and those of us who aspire to govern the state must travel through all its territory,” he said.
Doing just that after leaving the troubled town, Magaña encountered another blockade near the community of El Terrero. It consisted of a group of some 200 people protesting against the National Guard and state police, whom they accused of allowing organized crime to operate in the Tierra Caliente region.
The PVEM candidate remained in his vehicle despite calls for him to join the protest. The disgruntled residents eventually allowed his car and others to pass.
Some 200 state police are currently deployed to the Tierra Caliente region as part of a Michoacán government operation to combat organized crime. But criminal groups are still in control, Milenio reported, and acts of violence remain a common occurrence.
