Yeah, I know that I’ve been quiet for a while.
I do freelance writing, and when the work comes in, I gratefully jump to it. I’ve also been handling some intense life stuff offline.
And there some things that I’d like to blog about, but out of respect to the privacy of others, I don’t.
So sometimes I have a lot to talk about, just not a lot here, y’all dig?
A focus of mine since I started this blog is to keep it on the personal, small everyday details about being a deported man’s wife. There are already a lot of great blogs out there that do a fantastic critical analysis of the big issues in US immigration.
However, I feel that my role is to tell stories, so as to encourage others to speak their truths as well.
But lately, it seems like all I can tell are gun stories.
What do I mean?
Last night, no more than 300 steps away from my house, a couple was shot and killed in their car. My husband and I clearly heard the shots.The killings happened in a very public area. There were a lot of people on the street, due to many people being on vacation because of Holy Week.
About half an hour later, state and federal police, the Mexican military and an ambulance went up our street.
On March 23, R and I were woken up by the sound of AK-47 gunfire.
In the past two weeks, there’s been “narcomantas” i.e., banners with messages from the narcos (drug lords) hung in the main square of our city, an elementary school, and a big park near where R and I used to live, where people go to relax with their families. And those are just a few of the places.
These are just a few of the events that have happened since December of last year, when a major drug lord was killed here, creating a vacuum in their leadership.
I’ve lived here for nine years. Life in this city has never previously been this anxiety-producing.
R just came down as I was writing this. We read a new article about last night’s events online. R said, “You know, there’s a strong possibility that after the assassins killed that couple, they drove up past our street to make their getaway.”
Our city’s slogan is, “La Ciudad de la Eterna Primavera.” The City of Eternal Spring.
I’ll leave it to you to decide if that slogan fits any more. And my city in Mexico is certainly not the only city in this country where the violence is escalating.
I fear the day that I’ll get used to the sound of gunshots the same way that I’m now used to the lights going out regularly during the rainy season.