D e s e r t E x p o s u r e
December 2009
The Lion
The violence in Palomas has thrust Maria Lopez into the job of mayor.
Early in November a friend in Deming told me she'd heard that drug dealers had taken over Palomas, and that there was no city government. When I heard this I had just seen Maria Lopez sitting calmly in her office as mayor a couple days before.
There was also a rumor that the wife of slain Mayor Tanis Garcia hadn't wanted an autopsy done on his remains. The fact was there was only a skeleton left because he had been burned, and they used the DNA of his father to identify him.
The rumor mill on this side of the border is as active as that on the other
side.
For almost 24 hours after the mayor was killed, we Americans who knew Maria Lopez weren't sure where she was. I said she must have been with a relative on this side of the border, and it turned out that's where she was, with a brother in Columbus. But you can believe there were some anxious people praying for her for a while.
There are other groups helping the poor in Palomas. There's a woman with an excellent program making lunches for destitute elderly people. There's a coalition of churches who bring down truckloads of stuff and leave them at the orphanage and at churches. And there are other individuals, both American and Mexican, who help with what they have. But I've decided to ask for checks for Maria Lopez again because the last time I saw her there was no money coming in. She focuses on helping families with children, and the need is vast. If someone wants to donate to other organizations, I'd be very happy to give them info. Contact me at me_lill@yahoo.com. — ML |
I didn't know till later that she was going to be mayor. I never realized Maria was Garcia's suplente, chosen by the mayor as his stand-in. She didn't seem the type, frankly.
On Sunday afternoon, three days after the murder, I drove down to Columbus to see her. I had a few food donation checks from Desert Exposure readers to give her, for whatever needs she had.
There was extreme tension and uncertainty at that moment. But by that time, she'd already moved back into her home in Palomas. She went back Saturday morning, less than two days after Tanis was found.
I met her in front of the Family Dollar store near the border. We sat and talked in my car for maybe 15 minutes — about faith, about what had happened, about what was going to happen.
She was still struggling over the death of her friend Tanis, whom she had often spoken of with respect, even a bit worshipfully. She was still a little frightened and confused.
"I'm going to help the poor con todo mi corazon (with all my heart)," she said fervently. I'd known Maria for a year, and knew how single-minded she was about getting food to the poor. She was one of nine children of a farmworker in Durango, and often went hungry. She remembers her father crying because he couldn't feed them.
Maria said she was going to be mayor "con la ayuda de Dios, y de el" (with the help of God and of him — of Tanis). It wouldn't be easy for her, with only a sixth-grade education.
I tore off a picture of a lion from a magazine I had and handed it to her.
She already knew what it was to be a lion.
I didn't see Maria as mayor until a few weeks later. I was nervous about how she'd handle herself, but I was pretty much blown away by how poised and authoritative she was. She used to wear her hair tightly pulled back, but now she had a mane of black hair cut at a stylish angle. Her office had no windows and the desk was nearly bare except for a paperback Bible on her left.
Maria is saying that only God knows who killed Tanis. She genuinely doesn't seem to know and doesn't think there will be any investigation. There's a strange kind of deadness in the public life of a country when even a mayor's assassination doesn't produce an official inquiry. People are afraid, of course.
She's making peaceful overtures to the teachers, who were involved in the demonstrations before Tanis' death. Maria says the teachers are scared that some people are blaming them.
I'm not endorsing Maria Lopez as mayor. I have no idea what she's able to do, especially at this crisis time in the Mexican economy. She's mostly just a friend with a heroic heart. I tend to write about personal experiences in this column and have only a small circle of friends.
I just ask that people be kind to her. I've never heard her bad-mouth anybody.
I walked around the back streets of Palomas in mid-November and asked a few people, mostly small store keepers, how many people had been killed this year. Of the seven people I asked, four estimated between 50 and 60, two said 20, and one said 10. I was really surprised by the high estimates, and embarrassed by my stupidity of saying Palomas was "quiet" in my last column.
One guy I talked to that day, living with a friend of mine, told me the day
before there had been machine-gun fire across the street, and he was scared.
Their little house is just a kitchen and a bedroom.
These are some of the actors in the theater of life and death going on in Palomas these days:
There are the majority poor, who typically say they don't go out very much at night because of the violence. They're working one or two days a week to earn the bare necessities. Some of these people are unaware themselves of the extent of the violence. They just mind their own business.
There are the people in the drug war, whom I don't know.
There are the cross-border businesses — dentists, oculists, and pharmacists — bravely facing life and being positive despite the decimation of their businesses. They provide a wonderful service to low-income Americans. But according to one dentist I talked to there, larger business owners are not sacrificing much. I asked, "Are some selling their houses, or are their kids putting off college for a while?" He smiled slightly and said no.
There are the Americans who go to the pharmacists and have a stylish meal afterwards, oblivious to the violence.
There are activist-type Americans who visit their Mexican friends and are breezily unafraid because they know Mexicans are good people.
Both rich and poor, employer and employee, Mexicans and Americans are important, and all interdependent. They are stuck together with Gorilla Glue. Even two of Maria's sons work at the Pink Store. Americans rely on Mexican cheap labor and services.
Oddly, getting food and other things to the poor of Palomas this year depends almost entirely on help from Americans. Mexicans with money are not known for giving to the poor. The drug dealers were more generous to the poor than legitimate businesses.
A lot of people in Palomas this winter will be hungry, scared, grieving, or cold. You want to rain down food, comforters, diapers, soap and other things over Palomas. Please think about it.
Borderlines columnist Marjorie Lilly lives in Deming. Contributions to help fight hunger in Palomas can be sent to: Maria Lopez/DIF, c/o Desert Exposure, PO Box 191, Silver City, NM 88062.