Me and the devil, were walking side by side…

Yaquí is an energetic pup, and I have to take her out at night to let her run around… and hang with Guerita, her canine comadre… at the little park a couple of blocks from here in a “fraccionamento”… which, unlike a “colonia” in which I live, is a privately developed neighborhood, which can set its own rules, and its own restrictive covenants.  In other words, just like any north-of-the border subdevelopment.

Good with children and gangsters

The houses in my colonia were mostly built by the owners… and depending on the owner’s financial condition and needs are a mixed bag, running from a three story apartment house to your standard grocery with family home upstairs to half-lot three room “shotgun houses” to a one room “efficiency house” (with the interior walls being the exterior brick).   At least one lot has three small houses on it, with a shared bathroom (probably they’re actually meant to be separate rooms, whenever the owner raises the cash to build a connecting wall and create a front room that will tie the rest of the place together.  My house stands out having a sloping roof (I rent the second floor), but normal in that the landlady is related by blood or marriage to about half the families on the street.

In the fraccionamento, the houses were built by the devloper, there is only one house per lot and they have standarized trash cans , the local church fits the architectural scheme and amenities include a semi-private park and playground.  The  park has a vigilante (which isn’t a guy ready to string you up, but a geezer with one good eye who walks around the park at night to check on the teenagers out necking when they should be home doing their school work.  Guerita, more or less a poodle, doubles as guard-dog, keeping stray cats at bay).

Obviously, not a threatening aream not that I’m particularly worried about walking though almost any neighborhood anywhere in the Mexican Republic any hour of the day or night.  There’s usually a few people around at night, besides the teenagers (who are… ah… wrapped up in each other) and the vigilante.  I usually see a few guys hanging out, and they’re always pleasant enough.

Being that it’s a wealthier neighborhood than mine, I expect the nice people I’ve met of an evening, and who are always nice to Yaquí, might have a few accroutrements I lack … like a couple AK-47s, a Barrett 50-cal machine gun, 35,000 rounds of ammo, a dozen hand-grenades, two bullet-proof SUVs and 15 kilos of marijuana.

Am I shocked to discover there were hoods in the hood?  Of course not… though I am a little suprised that no body questioned why three policemen were living in a posh neighborhood.  Even on three cop’s salaries, it had to be kind of pricy.  Of course, they were moonlighting for Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada, one of the Sinaloa Cartel faction leaders.

This is the thing people who worry about going to Mexico don’t seem to understand — it’s not like living near gangsters means there’s any particular danger, or even inconvenience, in your daily life. By no means am I in the middle, or even the periphery of a war zone.  The thing the U.S. and foreign media overlooks is that even in Sinaloa we’re not running for cover, or locking our doors… a “drug zone” doesn’t mean scary junkies who might attack you.  It means an area where a significant part of the economy is based on exports that are uncontrolled substances.  And where people walk their dogs, and at least say “buenos noches” to people walking their dogs, no matter what they happen to do for a living.  It’s normal.

The cartels are a big business, and pay fairly well.  And, not everyone involved in the … ahem… transport business… is a thug.  Well, these guys probably were, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to go around acting like jerks and annoying people out walking their pooch.

I happened to be out of town when the guys got taken out (of their abode, not out of their earthly existence) by the Army.  The army surrounding a house might bother me a bit… as would a confrontation between various competing factions within the Sinaloa “transport” industry, but c’mon.  If you’re  making a decent income you will want to live in a nice house, not  one of three mini-houses where you get wet when you go to the bathroom during rainy season.

And, given the nature of that business,  the security guys are going to be paid fairly well.  Much better than a policeman, even if they’re only working part time. The narcotics supply industry is “corrupting”, I’ll grant that, but as the best paying industry in this part of Mexico (and most of our industry does involve exports to the United States, or meeting the needs of U.S. residents in some fashion — i.e., the tourism industry), you just assume you know people who work for the narcos.

When I read that something like 450,000 people are employed by the cartels, I have to ask who all they include.  I know people who know they do business with the gangsters.  They aren’t gangsters themselves, but have to make a living, and meet their house payments.  I’m wondering if those 450,000 include the plumbers who fix gangster toilets, as well as those who knowingly transport or grow or package or refine the product.  Or, if those who do transport, grow, package, refine, etc. are really “corrupted” by taking a decent paying job.

Their homes are not perhaps as grand as those in Fraccionamento Alameda (which is only comfortably middle class, but not ostentatiously rich), but asking people to be noble and live in shacks is absurd.  And, as long as they’re nice to me and pet the dog… and don’t stick their guns in my face… I’m not going to get too worked up about it.