T housands of people dressed in white, carrying white balloons and waving white handkerchiefs, have been parading down the main streets of Tampico, Mexico, recently. They have taken to the streets in a desperate call for help. In the last couple of weeks, shoot-outs on crowded streets in broad daylight have resulted in 25 deaths. A gas truck was set on fire at the main entrance to the city. A much-loved locale that sold tortas de la barda a sandwich made with ham and beans was burnt to the ground.
Fires were lit in a gas refinery. A sales lot of new cars was torched. As a result of the violence, the local real estate market has bottomed out. Buildings that could easily survive for another century are mere empty shells, with huge trees growing through the roofs and out of the windows. Such levels of abandonment are rarely seen in the centre of a major city. Of those who remain, the most recent march, on May 11 , saw an estimated 12, protesters turn out.
Naturally, nobody demands anything of the criminal cartels themselves and lives to talk about it. Tampico had, in fact, been a kind of Disneyland for several years, with US and Mexican spring-breakers transforming the miles and miles of city beach into hour party people territory.
Now the bars have almost all closed down, restaurants are hard to find, and the beach remains empty most of the year. The local economy has collapsed. Fear has taken the joy out of living in the city.
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There were more than 20 bombings against military and police installations in the city in October , and since then hundreds of hired guns have been killed by both sides. These cartels control all major criminal activity in Tampico, from prostitution and table-dancing clubs to arms and drug trafficking, pirated goods and extortion. They also exert control over the local newspapers, periodically killing reporters and editors who disrespect them the state has one of the highest murder rates of journalists in Mexico.
