Solidary Barrios in Xochitepec: Neighbors Protecting Themselves From Crime

Photo by: Cuartoscuro

By Lourdes, Animal Político Reader | Translated by Valor for Borderland Beat

This article is part of a digital project by Animal Político called “Aprender a Vivir con el Narco” (Learning to live with El Narco) released in late 2015.

I’ve been a witness to the “levantamientos” (kidnappings) and deaths of youths in my neighborhood, some of them with whom I grew up with.  Among curfews, abductions, kidnappings, murders, shootouts, and death, everyday life develops in my neighborhood.

One of the most violent nights left five dead, all of them youths.  Now, it’s a militarized place.  Now, you just don’t protect yourself from “the habits” but also of the Mexican Army and the police who extort and threaten.

We have learned to live in fear, we have reshaped violence and created strategies to survive the terror that causes us to live in a place without security and justice.

In the block, solidarity networks were strengthened.  Even in some places, directories were developed with the phone numbers of neighbors in case an emergency occurs.

I remember after the killing of four youths in one night at the hands of organized crime, cardboard signs appeared in busy public places, like in sport fields, announcing a curfew.  The message was more or less as follows: “To whoever comes out after 8:00, you’re fucking dead.”

Faced with this threat, every night, mothers and some fathers would be seen pilgrimaging throughout the empty streets, on their way to pick up their children at the bus stop.  They would say: “I’m going for him, I don’t want them to confuse him.”

I also remember hearing from people that they would have to be very careful when driving a car in the town since any behavior that was read as an insult to “the habit” could cost us our lives.  So then the drivers knew that if there was a car in front of them driving at a very slow speed, they knew that they should try to pass them, or much less honk the horn to pressure them to increase their speed.  The playing of loud music in cars even stopped, especially of narcocorridos.

Socialization has been relegated to the private area, and although violence here is intermittent, life isn’t the same anymore.  Public places are increasingly looking empty and people are increasingly more distrustful.  Although this distrust does not apply with the nearest neighbors.

These strategies have worked in my neighborhood, and while they don’t contribute to a decrease in attacks against the people of this town nor to decrease crime rates, it has helped us to not feel alone, to help us feel stronger and supportive, and to bring about the fear that sometimes permeates everything.

Source: Animal Político