Juarez, the more time I spend here, the more I realize that it's become a cemetery; not just for the abundance of shallow graves found here, but also for those that've gone missing and possibly won't be found again. A cemetery where the living inhabit space right along with those that aren't; where one can find just as many celebrations for those still tied to this mortal coil as one can find sorrow for those found murdered or gone missing-- maybe more.
I've obviously arrived here after the city, which is just across the border from El Paso-- and I mean just across-- has gone through years of small scale wars between the drug cartels and the drug cartels and the Federal police. Add onto this a massive uptick in kidnappings, drug related crimes, and endemic poverty and one could be surprised that the people that live here are still here.
(more to follow)