Town plaza, Zaragoza, Chihuahua-05/08/2010
Sunny normal day.
In Zaragoza/Juárez?
Impossible!
I couldn’t work it in -excuses!- but beyond the Tarahamara woman and her brood, in the deep darkness of the trees, protected by yellow police tape and the Policia Federal -who shooed me away- lies a dead woman in her twenties.
Cause of death? Bullet wound.
Reason for death? Unknown.
Plaza Zaragoza. Gateway to the east valley of Juarez, the new turf of the Cartel who have all but emptied the towns there, clearing them like you’d clear a loading dock, which is what the Cartel has done.
Anything in the way is burned or buried.
Maybe this woman was in the way.
The Plaza is a frequent dumping ground for bodies.
On one corner is a church.
On the other is a funeral home.
Convenient? Perverse? Coincidental?
Who knows?
Life goes on.
The chicas stroll by in fancy jeans.
The Native American (er…Native North American and not very north) family takes a breather on the park bench.
The body and the federales will be gone soon.
This is a normal day in Zaragoza.
