Warned to lay down guns, Michoacán farmers defy authorities to disarm narcos first

July 1, 2021

Wednesday's rally by the Pueblos Unidos in Ario de Rosales.

Michoacán avocado producers who have taken up arms to defend themselves against organized crime sent a clear message to authorities on Wednesday after state Security Minister Israel Patrón warned they would be forcibly disarmed if they refused to lay down their weapons.

“Disarm the narcos first,” members of the Pueblos Unidos armed group declared at a rally on Wednesday in Ario de Rosales, one of four neighboring municipalities where farmers and farmhands have taken up arms over the past eight months to defend themselves and their land from attacks and extortion by the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) and the Los Viagras crime gang.

Pueblos Unidos members reiterated that they would only disarm voluntarily if authorities can guarantee their safety in Ario de Rosales, Salvador Escalante, Nuevo Urecho and Taretan.

“With complete respect for our governments, they should do the work and we’ll put down our weapons and go and work on our land, which is what we know how to do,” one of the group’s members said.

“They want to disarm us, they say we’re violating the law. Yes, we have high powered rifles but believe me it’s not for pleasure. We did all this out of necessity. The [local security] authorities had been overwhelmed,” a Pueblos Unidos leader told the thousands of people in attendance.

Members of Pueblos Unidos said they would only disarm voluntarily if authorities can guarantee their safety.

The rally attendees signed a petition urging the federal government to deploy the National Guard to each and every one of the more than 50 roadblocks the armed group has set up across the four municipalities to prevent incursions by members of the CJNG and Los Viagras.

If the guardsmen are deployed to the area, located approximately 100 kilometers southwest of Morelia, the members of the armed group said they would be prepared to lay down their weapons.

“We took the decision … to take up arms because my brother was kidnapped on June 13 [2020] and we never heard anything of him again,” one woman told the newspaper Milenio.

Her brother, identified only as Juan Manuel, was an avocado farmer who refused to pay hundreds of thousands of pesos in extortion payments to a criminal group. His family paid a 300,000-peso (US $15,000) ransom but he was never returned.

“If we were criminals, do you think that women would be here? Do you think that children would be here? We’re not criminals, we’re good people, we’re fighting for our rights, for ourselves, for our children,” said Juan Manuel’s cousin.

Rally attendees told Milenio that behind every man who left his avocado farm to take up arms is a story of at least one encounter with criminals.

One woman, identified only as Diomira, lost part of two fingers three years ago when her family was targeted in a shooting perpetrated by a criminal group that wanted to force them off their land.

“Why don’t you have two fingers,” a Milenio reporter asked, to which she responded: “Because of gunshots, they were blown off when I was defending my land, my avocado crops.”

Ario de Rosales Mayor Irma Moreno agreed to the farmers’ request for her to attend Wednesday’s rally but the National Guard official responsible for operations in the zone where the four municipalities are located declined the invitation.

“We want a municipality that is at peace and calm,” Moreno said, adding that the municipal government would do what it could to facilitate a meeting with federal authorities.

Patrón, the Michoacán security minister, said Tuesday that state authorities are planning a joint operation with the army to combat organized crime in the four municipalities but he didn’t indicate when it would start or how many soldiers and police would be deployed.

With reports from Milenio

New toll-based border crossing to open in Tijuana in late 2024

MND Staff

July 1, 2021

Mexican and US officials celebrating signing of agreement on Monday.

A new crossing on the Mexico-U.S. border is set to open by late 2024 after an agreement was signed between officials from the two countries Monday.

The US $1 billion Otay Mesa East crossing, also known as Otay Mesa II, between Tijuana, Baja California, and Otay Mesa, California, will have five interchangeable lanes for vehicles and five more for commercial trucks. It aims to reduce waiting times to 20 minutes, representing a significant reduction, and will charge travelers a toll. Toll revenues will be divided between the two countries.

The agreement commits both countries to complete their construction projects, resolve policy issues and establish a framework to share toll revenues.

In Tijuana, a US $186 million investment is contemplated for construction, which is set to begin next year. In the U.S. construction has already begun and the project has received US $565 million in funding.

Deputy Governor of California, Eleni Kounalakis, listed some of the benefits of the new crossing. “This new port of entry will not only spur economic activity, but it will also improve the quality of life for the millions of Californians and Mexicans who frequently cross one of the busiest borders in the world,” she said.

The Mexican Foreign Ministry’s North America representative, Roberto Velasco, said the crossing was symbolically important for the two countries’ relationship. “We believe in building bridges not in building walls, and this is important for us in that sense,” he said.

“This is the future of the U.S.-Mexico relationship that we want. A future where we are more connected, and we allow for the many different possibilities that life on the border offers to both of our countries,” he added.

Plans for Otay Mesa East were first announced in 2014 during the Peña Nieto administration for completion in 2017. Last year, President López Obrador included the crossing among his infrastructure projects.

The area has long been an essential route for cross border traffic. The Tijuana-San Ysidro crossing, only a short distance from where Otay Mesa East will be constructed, is the busiest crossing in the Western Hemisphere, according to U.S General Services Administration.

With reports from San Diego Union Tribune

Army makes compensation deal with victims’ families but arrests no one

MND Staff

July 1, 2021

The mother of one of the victims visits his grave.

The Ministry of National Defense (Sedena) has paid compensation to the families of three young men who were shot dead by the army in Nuevo Laredo, Tamaulipas, just over a year ago, but no soldiers have been arrested in connection with the alleged extrajudicial killings.

Soldiers killed 12 people in the early hours of July 3, 2020, after they came under attack by armed men traveling in pickup trucks in the northern border city.

Nine of those killed were dressed in tactical gear and are believed to have been members of a cartel hit squad. The other three victims had been kidnapped by the presumed cartel members and were wearing civilian clothing.

The newspaper El Universal published a video last August showing soldiers firing at one pickup truck on a dark street near the Nuevo Laredo airport. Army vehicles had previously come under fire by armed men in three pickup trucks, two of which fled.

Soldiers fired at least 243 shots at the third vehicle, according to El Universal, which published footage recorded by a camera mounted on a soldier’s helmet.

After the shooting stops, soldiers approach the pickup and see that at least one person in its bed isn’t dead. “He’s alive,” soldiers shout to which someone responds, “Fucking kill him.”

The person to which the unidentified soldier was referring is believed to be one of the three young men who had been kidnapped and were in the bed of the pickup with their hands and feet tied.

Two of the kidnapping victims died after receiving single gunshot wounds to their chests while the third man was killed by a single shot to the head. El Universal said that shot was fired from a distance of just one to three meters.

Given that the nine presumed gang members who were killed all had multiple gunshot wounds and the kidnapped men were only shot once each, it appears that the latter survived the army’s initial onslaught but were killed extrajudicially by soldiers.

After El Universal published the video footage it obtained, President López Obrador instructed Defense Minister Luis Cresencio Sandoval to investigate the incident, asserting that a probe was needed because his government doesn’t permit the “finishing off” of suspects following a shootout.

In a report published today, El Universal said that 24 soldiers were summoned to make statements about the killings and noted that many of them denied knowing the identity of the soldier who yelled “Fucking kill him.”

One of the three young men killed by soldiers in July 2020.

“The soldiers said they weren’t in the area, they couldn’t see because of the scant light or they didn’t know whose voice it was,” the report said.

It is unclear whether the authorities have established the identity of the army member who gave the order for at least one of the three young men to be killed.

El Universal said the families of three young kidnapping victims were contacted last year by soldiers who offered them a compensation agreement. Citing a lawyer for the families, the newspaper said the agreement was based on article 72 of the General Victims Law, which states: “The obtention of subsidiary compensation doesn’t terminate the right of the victim to demand compensation of any other nature.”

After weeks of negotiation, a compensation amount was agreed upon, El Universal said without saying what the amount was.

(News website Animal Político revealed earlier this year that the National Guard offered 1 million pesos (about US $50,000) to the families of two people killed in Nuevo Laredo in April in exchange for withdrawing charges against the security force. The army also offered 1 million pesos’ compensation to the family of a Guatemalan man killed by soldiers in Chiapas in March. )

Two of the families agreed to accept the compensation soon after the amount had been determined, while the third family agreed months later.

Despite the army’s payment of compensation to the victims’ families, no soldiers have been held accountable for the deaths of the three kidnapped men.

“The soldiers involved will continue with their normal work until their responsibility is proven,” said El Universal, which obtained access to investigation files.

The families of all three victims filed homicide complaints against the army with the federal Attorney General’s Office. It is unclear whether they were required to withdraw those complaints as a condition of receiving the compensation payments.

The director of Centro Prodh, a human rights organization, expressed concern about security forces’ payment of compensation to victims and their families.

“Sedena, the navy and the National Guard are starting to move away from what the General Victims Law established. … It’s an institutional practice that is perhaps going to reduce the number of [criminal] complaints [against security forces] but it won’t be effective in generating deterrents to these human rights violations,” Santiago Aguirre said.

The father of one of the slain kidnapping victims remains incredulous as to why soldiers killed his son when the army was no longer under attack.

Identified only as Héctor by El Universal, the man said that he understands that the soldiers were running on adrenalin and were initially acting in self defense but questioned why they killed a person who was motionless and incapacitated, given that his hands and feet were tied.

With reports from El Universal

California’s sparse Franciscan missions had a colorful start in Querétaro

Leigh Thelmadatter

June 30, 2021

Church mission at Concá, Querétaro — While all the churches featured in these photos might look the same, they are in different parts of Querétaro. This is the mission at Concá. Pavel Vorobiev

If you are familiar with the missions that extend from Baja California all the way up to San Francisco, you might very well know the name of Friar Junípero Serra. But his mission story did not begin in the Californias. It began in a forgotten but beautiful corner of central Mexico.

The Sierra Gorda region covers the northern half of the state of Querétaro with bits in the neighboring states of Guanajuato and Hidalgo. Now, as then, the area has been the gateway from Mesoamerica to what is called Aridoamerica (northern Mexico into the United States).

Heading north from the state capital, the region and declared biosphere begins in a municipality called Peñamiller. It is filled with microclimates, ranging from the intensely hot and dry to the pine and holm oak forests that dominate to a tiny area that is rainforest.

The towns and villages that existed before the biosphere declaration still exist and continue with their traditional ways of life. Among these towns are five small Baroque churches that look not too different from rural parish churches in central Mexico. They have highly ornate facades, with spiraling columns, profuse vegetal decoration, saints, angels and other Catholic iconography.

But there are important differences in themes and coloring that give testament to a major shift in how evangelizing monks did their work as they pushed north in the mid-18th century.

Facade of the Mission church in Jalpan de Serra, Querétaro. Alejandro Linares Garcia

In the early colonial period, the Spanish government and Catholic Church simply took over existing Mesoamerican social structures and modified them to their liking. Mesoamerican communities were already “civilized” in the sense that they were accustomed to a rigidly hierarchical, sedentary society where religion and government were intertwined, each justifying the other.

Their cosmology was reinvented but not so much their day-to-day lives.

In Aridoamerica, nomadic and semi-nomadic peoples dominated. What few large cities that existed in this region had disappeared long before the Conquest. The colonial Spanish had no qualms about using brute force, but prior experiences (especially in Michoacán) had shown that such force could actually backfire.

The first Aridoamerican peoples the Spanish encountered included the Pames, Ximpeces, Chichimecas and Huastecos, who strongly resisted domination because it not only meant a religious conversion but a complete change in their way of life.

Without an empire system to co-opt, Junípero Serra and the Franciscans decided to introduce the idea of “sedentary civilization” by creating mission churches as centers of the new order. The first five were constructed in the Sierra Gorda, in what are now the communities of Concá, Jalpan, Tancoyol, Agua de Landa and Tilaco.

The strategies developed here included learning the local languages to preach in, building the mission church and other structures using indigenous labor, making sure that the population was fed and somewhat protected from the worst of Spanish abuses and teaching skills such as farming and trades.

They are similar to those practices promoted by Friar Bartolomé de las Casas in Chiapas and Vasco de Quiroga, the first Catholic bishop in Michoacán, to great success.

These five mission churches look much like their counterparts farther south because Baroque architecture was still in fashion and because mining provided money for more ornate structures. As the Spanish headed north, mission churches would be progressively simpler, including the California mission style that is highly popular in the western United States today.

But these ornate churches demonstrate the layering of Catholic beliefs over indigenous ones that later churches do not.

The facades, in particular, were highly decorated as a means of teaching concepts. In addition to images of saints, angels, demons, etc., these churches also have images important to the cosmology of the original indigenous population, in particular certain animals and plants.

The most important of the five churches was built in Jalpan starting in 1751, and Jalpan is still the most important community in the area today. Its facade contains a two-headed eagle eating a serpent, reminiscent of the eagle and serpent symbol representing both the Aztecs and Mexico today.

The Concá church contains images of rabbits, which were important to the Pames as a symbol of the lunar calendar and the change of seasons. The Tancoyol church’s portal contains the image of a jaguar among the various European mascarons. The Tilaco church is heavily decorated with local vegetation, both wild and cultivated.

Mission church in Landa de Matamoros, Querétaro. credit Nathaniel 7840

Such co-opting is nothing new. Evangelists have used similarities between native religions and Christianity since evangelicalism began.

These five churches, and many more that came after, became the basis of towns and cities in areas that did not have them previously. However, starting in 1770, mission churches came under the control of regular clergy as indigenous populations dwindled and were replaced by those of Spanish and mixed heritage.

No longer needed for evangelization, the churches’ decorations deteriorated. In the tumultuous century following Mexico’s independence, this process accelerated with sacking of churches and other destruction.

The first five mission churches returned to Mexico’s collective memory with work done by researcher Monique Gustín, who published El barroco en la Sierra Gorda (The Baroque in the Sierra Gorda) in 1969. In the 1970s, the National Institute of History and Anthropology (INAH) began to urge the conservation of these Querétaro churches.

In the 1980s and 1990s, INAH collaborated with the state government to restore them, especially the main portals and bell towers. And in the very late 20th century, Dr. Miguel León Portialla of the National Autonomous University began a campaign to have the five declared a World Heritage Site, stressing the missions’ role in Serra’s work.

He succeeded, and the five are listed under the name Franciscan Missions in the Sierra Gorda of Querétaro.

As for Junípero Serra, he worked in Sierra Gorda for eight years before returning to Mexico City and then moving on to the Californias. He died in what is now Carmel Valley, California.

He is honored in many places where he worked and was beatified by the church despite objections by Native American groups.

Leigh Thelmadatter arrived in Mexico 18 years ago and fell in love with the land and the culture in particular its handcrafts and art. She is the author of Mexican Cartonería: Paper, Paste and Fiesta (Schiffer 2019). Her culture column appears regularly on Mexico News Daily.

Government issues gender violence alert for all of Baja California

MND Staff

June 30, 2021

'Stop femicide,' a common slogan at protests against gender violence.

The federal government has issued a gender alert for Baja California due to high levels of violence against women in the northern border state.

Issued by the Interior Ministry via the National Commission to Prevent and Eradicate Violence against Women (Conavim), the alert applies to all six of the state’s municipalities: Tijuana, Mexicali, Tecate, Ensenada, Playas de Rosarito and San Quintín.

There were six femicides – the killing of women and girls on account of their gender – in Baja California in the first five months of 2021 and almost 5,000 reported cases of domestic violence.

The alert compels authorities to implement a total of 39 measures aimed at eradicating violence against women.

Speaking at an event on Tuesday at which the gender alert was officially declared, Conavim chief Fabiola Alanís Sámano said that all three levels of government as well as lawmakers and the court system will need to work together to implement the measures, which span violence prevention, women’s safety, justice and compensation.

Alejandro Encinas, deputy interior minister for human rights, said the federal government’s commitment is to implement policies across the country that help women live their lives free of violence.

“This is, without a doubt, one of the main guiding principles of federal government public policies,” he said.

Encinas said that violence against women is a “structural and systematic” problem that is prevalent across all aspects of life in Mexico.

There were 423 femicides between January and May, an increase of 7% compared to the same period of 2020. Almost 60% of the crimes occurred in just eight of Mexico’s 32 states: Morelos, Sonora, Quintana Roo, Colima, Jalisco, Sinaloa, San Luis Potosí and Chiapas.

With the declaration of the gender alert in Baja California, there are 22 active alerts in 18 states.

Mexico News Daily

Rain ritual keeps community close to its heritage and in tune with nature

Joseph Sorrentino

June 30, 2021

Rain petition ritual — As an opening ritual in the rain petition, the cross is cleansed. Photos by Joseph Sorrentino

We had only traveled a short distance up the narrow, bumpy road toward the top of a sacred hill in México state when Judi asked Javier to stop the car: we needed to ask the volcano in the area to be allowed passage.

“When you enter certain spaces, you need to say a greeting, especially when it is for a ritual,” she said. “One needs to ask permission of nature and of whomever are the owners [spirits] of the space.”

Permission must be asked at other times as well, she explained, even if a person is simply heading to a home on the hill. “One must always ask permission to pass,” she said.

We were heading up that hill to participate in a petición de lluvia — an ancient ritual to ask the spirits for rain. Judi made her request to the volcano, and we continued on.

Rain rituals, which date back thousands of years, are conducted in many pueblos located in the Valley of México and Puebla during the month of May. Many of them are in the Sierra Nevada mountain range and are set near the Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl volcanoes.

The shamans that conduct them are called graniceros and are considered descendants from the line of priests of Tlaloc, the Aztec god of rain.

“They’re called graniceros because, in addition to petitioning for rain, they will perform rituals to drive away hail [granizo], which can destroy crops,” said Javier, who has studied and written about them. “Each granicero has their own prayers and sacred formulas and certain elements that they can use to detour clouds. These ceremonies and rituals have changed very little over many years.”

Graniceros also contact spirits to cure diseases, he said.

After Javier parked the car outside of a fenced-in area and we prepared to head out, Judi handed each of us a lime. “We will be walking through a cemetery,” she said. “The lime will protect us from bad spirits.”

Fourteen people gathered at the foot of the short path that leads up to the cross where the ritual would take place. Before going up, we doused ourselves with agua florida — flowered water made from several herbs. “We put it on so that the bad spirits do not enter us,” said Diego. “It is protection.”

The petition started with the singing of a short song often sung in Catholic churches: “Good morning white dove/Today I come to greet you/ Greeting your beauty/ In your heavenly kingdom.”

“There are ancient elements and Catholic elements,” said Gerardo, the granicero who led the petition.

“For us, Christ is the sun, and the mountain is the Virgin,” Esmeralda, a granicera, added. “For me, it is the same to sing to the Virgin as to Iztaccíhuatl.”

Gerardo then cleansed the cross with incense, and each of us followed in turn.

Three small cups were buried in the ground, and a man named Raymundo placed a mirror nearby, surrounding it with cotton. The cups, which represent hills or mountains, were filled with water and covered with dirt. The mirror reflected — and represented — the sky, and the cotton represented the clouds.

Esmeralda carried a basket filled with confetti and rose petals around the cross, tossing handfuls in the air, evoking the image of a rainbow. The group then set to work cleaning the area and decorating the cross with flowers.

“The white flowers represent the clouds that bring rain,” said Javier, “and the blue ones represent the sky.”

Offerings, including some very specific ones — such as fruits, vegetables, breads, tequila and beer — were then placed around the base of the cross.

“What we dream, we bring,” said Jeimi. “For example, I brought fruits and bread because via the dreams, this is what they asked me for.”

Graniceros believe that the dreams are sent by volcanoes. “Everyone in this area believes that all nature has spirits,” Javier said, “the mountains, the caves, the volcanoes.”

Once the offerings were placed, the graniceros stood in front of the cross, holding small bowls filled with water. Gerardo led them in a short ritual, after which they tossed the water into the air, mimicking rainfall. Then we had to leave.

“We descend so that the spirits can eat alone,” said Diego. “We will eat apart, and then we will [return] to share the food and drink with them.”

An hour later, after a large meal under a tree, we returned to the site to consume the offerings there with the spirits — but not all the offerings.

“There are foods we should not take because the volcanoes appeared to people in dreams told them what they wanted,” Diego said. “And so, for example, Judi was told to bring vegetables, and the other woman was told to bring sweets and rice and mole and meat, which is exclusive for [the spirits].”

A granicero took a large bottle of warm beer, shook it and sprayed foam on the remaining offerings and the cross. This, too, was to mimic rain falling.

After an hour, it was time to leave the ritual area again. Gerardo performed a ceremony to ask the spirits to return to their proper places. “The doors to the other world are closed,” he said.

We descended to continue eating, drinking tequila, and enjoying conviviencia (gathering together).

These rituals aren’t cultural artifacts, something done simply for show. Graniceros and many people in this region deeply believe that they’re critically important.

“It will still rain around the world because there are many who do this,” Gerardo said, explaining that it’s a commitment he makes. “If we do not complete this, the spirits will punish us … like [by making us] sick or not feel well.”

“This ceremony is important so that it rains and so that we don’t forget the land,” Esmeralda said. “It is said that the graniceros make it rain, but no. They are in the service of the lords of water, and they [the spirits] decide if they give us water or not. We only bring what they ask us.”

It’s clear that a ritual like this builds and strengthens community and connects people with a past that goes back millennia. It also teaches respect for the planet.

If a person believes, as several participants told me, that everything — mountains, rivers, volcanoes — has a spirit, it’s much more difficult to pollute or destroy them. And, graniceros and participants firmly believe, the ritual brings rain. Who’s to say that it doesn’t?

The weather forecast for the area had predicted a 25% chance of rain that day. As we stood sipping tequila and talking under a tree after the ceremony, it began to rain.

“El señor is sending the rain we asked for,” said Jeimi.

• Gerardo and other graniceros and participants were very kind and open about their beliefs, allowing me to photograph and interview without restrictions, asking only that I not identify the location of the petitions or use full names. Some names have also been changed. —JS

Joseph Sorrentino, a writer, photographer and author of the book San Gregorio Atlapulco: Cosmvisiones and of Stinky Island Tales: Some Stories from an Italian-American Childhood, is a regular contributor to Mexico News Daily. More examples of his photographs and links to other articles may be found at www.sorrentinophotography.com He currently lives in Chipilo, Puebla.

AMLO says businessman Carlos Slim has offered to absorb Line 12 repair costs

MND Staff

June 30, 2021

Billionaire businessman Carlos Slim will cover the costs of repairing a Mexico City Metro line that partially collapsed last month, President López Obrador said Wednesday.

Slim’s company Carso Infrastructure and Construction was involved in the construction of Line 12, an elevated section of which gave way on May 3 as a train traveled over it. Twenty-six people were killed.

López Obrador told reporters at his regular news conference that Slim offered to foot the repair bill during a meeting at the National Palace on Tuesday.

“He came yesterday to tell me that he’ll take charge of the reconstruction of the entire [elevated] section, taking care of all the necessary safety [measures] without it costing the people anything, without asking for anything from the [federal] budget. That’s his commitment,” he said.

The president said that Slim’s company would reach an agreement with the Mexico City government to begin the repair work soon so that Line 12 can reopen within a year.

“I think him and hopefully other business people will behave the same way,” López Obrador said.

Mexico City Mayor Claudia Sheinbaum also said she was happy with Slim’s commitment to pay the repair costs.

“This decision is very important for the residents of Mexico City and in particular everyone who uses Line 12 of the Metro, which will be repaired with the resources of the engineer Carlos Slim and his companies,” she said.

Slim told reporters on Tuesday that he was willing to pay for the repairs but denied that the line was poorly built, as the preliminary results of an independent investigation into the overpass collapse indicated.

“I’m convinced because the best engineers of Mexico built it, they did the calculations and the design,” he said, adding that international experts inspected the line and confirmed its quality in October or November of 2012.

“I’m convinced that it didn’t have defects from the start,” Slim said.

“As you know [the line] worked. Millions of people have traveled on it; 400,000 a day, that’s 12 million a month, 144 million a year. Millions of people have traveled on it, there was a lot of impact on it, 12 earthquakes of more than 6 magnitude, I believe,” he said.

“Yes, [the collapse] is a tragedy but we’re convinced that [the line] didn’t have any problem in the beginning.”

With reports from El Universal, El País and El Financiero

Covid vaccination in Mexico: quick, organized, unsurprisingly bureaucratic

Sarah DeVries

June 30, 2021

mass vaccination site in Mexico — Mass vaccination sites were at first notorious for hours-long wait times, but nowadays many get folks in and out in an hour or less.

You guys. You guys!!

I finally got my vaccine. Like, just now. I’m clearly very excited about it.

Rather than giving much of an opinion this week, I’d like to spend my space telling you about the experience and … well, who am I kidding? You’re going to hear my opinions too. This is the opinion section, after all!

Last month, a friend of mine sent me the official notice that those who turned 40–49 before the end of the year would soon be up for their vaccines! I excitedly signed up, relieved that I wouldn’t have to wait for the 30–39 group (I turn 40 in a couple of months).

Then, I waited.

Finally, last week, someone in my friendly neighborhood WhatsApp group — what would we do without our neighborhood WhatsApp groups? — sent the notice that this week, vaccines would begin for my age group. The first part of the alphabet was today, meaning I’d get to be in the first group.

On that same notice was a list of what to bring: the registration form, your citizen identification number (known as the CURP), your voter ID card (known as the INE) — or in my case, passport and migrant card — and proof of residence, which usually means show us a recent utility bill bearing the address where you live — even if that bill is in someone else’s name since many renters’ bills are issued in the name of their landlord.

I printed the things off at a small neighborhood shop and headed toward the vaccination site on foot. When I got there, I was asked to show my documents. I’d forgotten my proof of residence!

I thought the day was saved when I remembered that I always take pictures of my paid light and water bills, and I showed it to the lady checking our documents. Alas, it was not enough: since I’m renting the house where I live, my name isn’t on the utility bill. Did I have a rent contract, or something for the internet bill, or anything with my name and address on it, she asked?

After a small and polite fit in which I tried to find out if everyone else that rented was being asked to rush out and find a copy of their rental contract (answer: unclear), I gave up the battle.

I was irritated that there hadn’t been any indication that we’d need a document with our name and current address on the same piece of paper; I don’t know if they made everyone that rented do the same thing. Though they explained that as a foreigner I had no proof that I lived there, it hardly would have been logical for me to come down to Mexico to take a vaccine when I can walk into any pharmacy in my own country to get one. But I know better than to argue too much when it comes to these things. And besides, this is Mexico. It’s just not reasonable to expect that you’re going to have all the papers that you need on the first go of trying any sort of bureaucratic deed.

Thankfully, both my partner and the lady who helps me with the house were home and, especially thankfully, I’m organized enough to have been able to tell them where the rental contract was. They sent me pictures of it and I headed out to the street to find a place to print them.

Copies, said a sign about a block away. “Eureka!” said I.

I moved closer and stood in the doorway, frowning at the eight or so cling-wrapped coffins on display. “Uh … this is the copy place?” I asked. Indeed, it was! Not only do they sell coffins, they can get you your copies in no time.

Alas, it was not to be; they had no printing service available, so I set out anew on my adventure.

Luckily, I didn’t have to search for long: there was an internet café just down the street (also next to a coffin shop — most places that sell them smartly set up shop close to the major public hospitals, one of which was just down the street from the vaccination site).

I printed off the first and last page of my rental agreement and headed back. Success! I was in.

The place to which one is assigned for their vaccine depends on the neighborhood of residence. For me, that meant a place relatively close that I walked to in about 25 minutes. The place I went to is officially a gym, but doubles as a convention center for bookfairs and the like.

It was enormous and gray — plenty of space to accommodate everyone at a distance. My temperature was taken several times, my documents were reviewed several times, and more papers were filled out and checked off.

I got a comically tiny one-inch-by-one-inch piece of paper that I was told I’d need to bring back with me for the second dose, along with several other papers, of course. I wonder how many people will be able to hold onto those tiny papers? I snapped a picture of it just in case, then put it in my passport holder.

I filled out a consent form (I mean, I was there, wasn’t I?) that needed the signature of two witnesses. “Just find some people sitting around you,” I was instructed.

I only waited about 20 minutes before it was finally my turn. I showed my papers, and after the lady giving the shot checked with her colleague to make sure she could give one over a tattoo (ha!), I was finally injected with my first dose of the Pfizer vaccine.

Afterward, I was ushered toward a smaller gym (after showing my papers again) to sit in the bleachers for 10 minutes with fellow recently vaccinated members of my generation while doctors scanned over us, making sure nobody started feeling bad.

Then, I left! That was it.

All in all, it was pretty simple and straightforward, and the people working there were helpful and organized.

Now, the opinion part: a lot of people down here are desperate to get their vaccines yesterday. It’s preposterous that in the United States there are vaccines just lying around because not enough people want them. What a privilege to say, “No, I don’t want to put any chemicals into my body, and the pandemic is not a big deal anyway.”

The U.S. did well in sending vaccines to Baja California. How about Baja California Sur as well, where they’re seeing a huge surge?

This was my first Covid-19 vaccine. I’d hoped to travel to the U.S. to get mine earlier but ended up just not having the funds for the trip. I feel so lucky to have finally been able to go, even with all the running around. I may or may not have cried several times.

If any of you have received your vaccines here in Mexico as well, we’d love to hear about your experiences in the comments.

Sarah DeVries is a writer and translator based in Xalapa, Veracruz. She can be reached through her website, sdevrieswritingandtranslating.com and her Patreon page.

Medications shortages are real: parents of victims share their stories

MND Staff

June 30, 2021

Young cancer patients who receive support from Nariz Roja, an organization that says the government is flying blind when it buys medications.

Parents of children with cancer have come forward to relate their harrowing experiences with medication shortages after a leading federal health official denied there is a lack of cancer drugs in Mexico.

Deputy Health Minister Hugo López-Gatell said in a television interview broadcast on Sunday that the assertion there are shortages is a lie. He also charged that protests against shortages led by parents of children with cancer are linked to international right-wing groups interested in overthrowing legitimately elected governments.

Mothers and fathers of children with cancer who joined a virtual meeting convened by the newspaper Reforma shared stories that served to disprove the remarks of López-Gatell, who retreated from some of his claims on Tuesday amid widespread criticism.

Since drug shortages first became widespread in 2019, countless other parents have recounted the difficulties their children have faced in getting the medical treatment they needed. Some of the stories have tragic endings.

One person who spoke with Reforma was Orfa Pecina of Nuevo León, whose 11-year-old son died of cancer earlier this month.

“Here is the consequence of the shortage, which did exist,” she said while holding up an urn containing the ashes of her son, who was treated at a Mexican Social Security Institute (IMSS) hospital in Monterrey.

“…. If Emmanuel had received his chemotherapy on time, if he didn’t have to wait so long for them to get medication, … I believe the outcome wouldn’t have been so tragic,” said Pecina, who held raffles and sold belongings to raise money to purchase medications that weren’t available at the IMSS hospital.

Severa Hernández, also of Nuevo León, related a similar story about her son’s experience at the same hospital. David, also 11, died of leukemia in December.

“My boy is gone, it’s very difficult,” Hernández said as tears streamed down her face, adding that she and her family did everything they could to get David the medications he needed.

In an opinion piece published in The Washington Post, Mexican journalist Ricardo Raphael noted that parents of children with cancer who say they have been affected by drug shortages have been protesting for almost two years and even taken legal action against the government.

“On this issue there can’t be two truths: either López-Gatell is lying or the presumed victims of the shortage are,” he wrote.

Parents protest cancer medications shortages at Mexico City airport Wednesday.

“… Contrast what the deputy minister said with the hundreds of testimonies that, since the middle of 2019, have been offered publicly by family members of the children allegedly afflicted by the shortages as well as their doctors and civil society organizations that deal with this problem.”

The parents who spoke to Reforma said that they have heard the same thing over and over again from health officials and President López Obrador: the government has a new purchasing scheme and the medications will arrive soon.

“It’s sad and regrettable that this man’s words continue to be the same as always,” said Elissa Torres, referring to AMLO, as the president is commonly known.

“We just hear more of the same, that they’re supplying [the drugs].We want to see action. We’ve been to his morning press conferences to ask to be attended to but they don’t attend to us. The reality is … there are no medications. My son has been through five shortages,” she said.

Torres also said that she has participated in protests against shortages since 2019, the first full year of the current government’s six-year term.

“We went to the [Mexico City] airport, we went on a hunger strike, we went to meetings [with government officials] and we’ve heard the same words many times, … ‘They [the mediations] are going to arrive now,’” she said.

The government entered into an agreement last July with the United Nations Office for Project Services (UNOPS) to collaborate on the international purchase of medicines, medical supplies and vaccines but the shortages of children’s cancer drugs have persisted, parents say.

“…They [government officials] show us inventories [of medications], we’ve been in meetings with [Interior] Minister Olga Sánchez but the reality is there is still a shortage. They fill one hole and another opens up,” Torres said.

Despite López-Gatell’s recent denial that shortages exist, government officials are aware of the problem, she said.

However, it is unlikely that they are aware of the extent of the problem and what purchases need to be made to resolve it, suggests the director of Nariz Roja, a civil society organization that supports children with cancer and their families.

“Mexico today is buying medications blindly because we don’t have a census of cancer patients in the country; the government doesn’t know how many people have cancer, it’s pathetic,” Alejandro Barbosa told the newspaper Milenio.

Israel Rivas, spokesman for a national group of parents of child cancer patients, compared the government to a man who doesn’t know how many children he has fathered.

Parents of cancer patients march Wednesday morning in the city of Veracruz.

“… It’s as if you’re a father and you don’t know how many children you have, how much food you’re going to buy when you go the supermarket and for what ages,” he said.

Andrés Castañeda of the Cero Desabasto (Zero Shortage) collective, a group that monitors the availability of medications in the public health system and pressures the government to keep up the supply, said that efforts to develop a national registry of cancer patients have stalled.

Irene Tello, director of the non-governmental organization Impunidad Cero (Zero Impunity), said that a national registry wasn’t previously so important because public hospitals made their own drug purchases according to their needs. However, the current government centralized purchasing, ostensibly to eliminate corruption.

“The problem is that the federal government ceased buying well and it’s in a fight with the country’s main producers of cancer medications,” Tello said. “They took very bad decisions with respect to the purchase of supplies for the treatment of cancer.”

Castañeda said the government tends to claim that it has resolved a shortage of a particular drug at a hospital when it has only delivered a quantity that will last for a very limited period of time.

“… The government says ‘done, we’ve delivered five little boxes [of whatever drug is lacking],’ but that’s only enough for today, what’s going to happen tomorrow?” he said.

Castañeda also claimed that there is a lack of transparency surrounding the purchases made via the agreement with UNOPS.

“Before we could look at everything that had been bought on the IMSS database” and see where the drugs were going but that’s no longer possible, he said. “It’s a big backward step with respect to what we had,” Castañeda said.

With reports from Reforma and Milenio

Select views of Mexican folk art form theme of 3 conferences on Zoom

MND Staff

June 30, 2021

A tree of life sculpture from Metepec, México state.

The Franz Mayer museum in Mexico City is offering a series of online anthropology conferences in English.

Only 100 tickets are available for each of the three dates to join renowned anthropologist Marta Turok, who is head of the Ruth D. Lechuga Center for Folk Art Studies housed in the museum.

The first of the Zoom conferences, on July 7, is titled Spectacular Natural Dyes of Mexico. It focuses on three important dyes, which are most associated with Oaxaca: cochineal, indigo and purpura, the last of which comes from a purple sea-snail.

The second event, Ceramic Trees of Life, examines pottery sculpture on July 8. Ritualistic candelabra from Izúcar de Matamoros, Puebla, and surrealistic works from Acatlán, Puebla, and Metepec, state of México, will form the discussion.

The third and final conference on June 9 will look at Masks in Context and Art, analyzing collector Ruth D. Lechuga’s documentation of traditional masks, including writings, photographs and exemplars. The conference will study the traditional dances where the masks are typically worn.

The events will take place on July 7, 8 and 9 from 11:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m. A donation of 200 pesos (about US $10) is recommended per date.

Marta Turok is highly regarded bilingual Mexican anthropologist. She was educated at Tufts University, Massachusetts, and at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, and has worked to promote artisans.

The Franz Mayer museum opened in 1986 to exhibit the private collection of businessman Franz Mayer Traumann. It houses one of the largest collections of decorative art in the country.

Registration information can be found on the museum website.

Mexico News Daily

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