Transnational Research Associates
 SOCIO-ECONOMIC, LINGUISTIC AND CULTURAL IMPRESSIONS
OF THE MEXICAN-AMERICAN BORDERLANDS

by A. F. Madsen, M.Ed.

When two prominent cultures collide, as have those of Mexico and the United States, truly, there are consequences of momentous magnitude. While contemporary Mexico is in the process of transforming its traditional society, and the United States is emerging from an unprecedented era of industrial growth and expansion, perhaps currently teetering on the brink of internal chaos and decline, the Borderlands reflect a reality which surpasses, in many respects, the intrinsic greatness of these two nations.

Stretching, on the Mexican side, from Rosarita in the West to Matamoros in the East, and from San Ysidro to Brownsville on the U.S. side, the Mexican Border Zone embodies bicultural textures and linguistic characteristics distinctly unlike any found in the Caribbean or in immigrant-laden Miami.

The rich overlay of Castellano, Mestizo and Indian culture permeating the southernmost tier of the United States, with implications reaching farther to the North, must be considered an asset of inestimable value to the fabric of both nations. Not only have cross-cultural trends influenced all sectors of society in the Borderlands, causing many observers to suggest that an essentially sovereign entity unto itself has emerged in recent decades, but a way-of-life has developed, replete with the flavor, color and variegated patterns of a profoundly complex and unique society.

This paper intends to highlight several primary aspects of the Borderlands, with a view to elucidation of social, cultural and linguistic phenomena of particular interest to professionals specializing in this economically and demographically turbulent region. The thrust of our remarks will relate to authentic observations and discoveries made in Tijuana, Nogales and Ciudad Juarez during the last five years, with corresponding implications for San Diego, Tucson and El Paso.

Although a recent resurgence of retail businesses and industrial activity would tend to indicate otherwise, there are, nonetheless, fundamental underlying tensions in the Tijuana area which date back to the Mexican-American War and have been perpetuated by on-going economic dislocation, assassination and unrest. Monuments, street names and, indeed, public consciousness in Downtown Tijuana readily attest to this reality. Along Avenida de los Ninos Heroes, named for dozens of defenseless martyred Mexican children massacred by American soldiers, teeming crowds of pedestrians shop in modest boutiques, relax in sidewalk cafes or patronize a vintage World War Two movie house featuring third-rate pornographic films, originally built, in close proximity to the Cathedral, to placate U.S. Naval personnel on leave in neighboring San Diego. Two blocks away, but well within striking distance of discotheques, night clubs and the Jalai Palace on Avenida de la Revolucion, is the Cine Robles where tolerably mild films are featured for teen-age consumption.

Contrasting architectural styles and ambitious development projects in Tijuana also belie a past replete with cyclical economic variations and evolving values.

Moving from the actual border station which links San Ysidro with the Mexican frontier, toward the Pueblo Amigo Shopping Center, merely a few thousand feet inside Mexico, the tourist can glimpse a modern complex designed initially to house well-stocked stores such as Pharmacies, Gift Shops and Travel Agencies, but which today houses an infamous Bookmaking Operation connected with the Caliente Race Track, as well as abandoned storefronts and a Pet Shop featuring bedraggled birds from Oaxaca and tropical lizards from Puerto Vallarta, reminiscent of "The Night of the Iguana".

This Spanish-style, adobe, red-roofed shopping center was found to be financially backed by a close family member of former President Salinas de Gotari. This relative was later implicated in a major drug scandal, was prosecuted by the Procuador General and his property, including the Pueblo Amigo Center, was confiscated, placed under new, but incompetent management, and allowed to deteriorate.

Indeed, the flashy and dubiously connected attractions of Tijuana do not mirror the values of Southern Mexico, any more than the Latino barrios of San Diego, spiraling out from the Public Welfare Complex, reflect the groomed gardens of suburban Minneapolis.

Farther from the border, in downtown Tijuana, small hotels flourish. Many of them are only partially constructed, lacking modern amenities, but are nonetheless open to the public. On Avenida Negrete, as all along La Calle Ocho, eclectic architectural styles are seen to clash with surrounding buildings. Across the street from the Hotel Rosita, for example, plain cinder-block homes are perched precariously on a hillside, small children play barefoot in the mud and undomesticated dogs run in packs. Toward the junction of Avenida Constitution and La Calle Ocho a small white-steepled Church of the Nazarene stands in stark contrast to the Palacio de Pollo, a Mom and Pop fried chicken outlet where portly police officers and merchants, "con corbatas", from the surrounding streets toss down a hasty lunch of "pollito, papas y Coca".

In the small grocery stores and bakeries of Tijuana, news travels fast among customers, many of whom have been patronizing the same "panaderia" for decades. As these faithful clients select their "birotes" and "pastles", they exchange the latest neighborhood gossip, using a distinctive variety of Border Spanglish reflective of the cultural mix which surrounds them.

Children of all ages use Spanish in Tijuana, naturally enough, and rarely is an Americanism heard; however, their vocabulary is limited and expletives abound. In San Diego, expressions such as the U.S. equivalent of "what's up, man?" are heard commonly in the streets among Latinos as they greet each other with a warm smile, a handshake and "Que onda, muchacho?"

If Tijuana is a city of contrasts, featuring the relatively posh sectors of Playa and Alta Mira, as opposed to the Zona Roja, the Colonias and El Centro, so, too, is San Diego, Alta California's "model city", which bills its Police Force as "America's Finest". While bankers and lawyers dine on shrimp and caviar at the Horton Grand, enraptured by the strains of world-renowned guitarist Laurindo Almeida, "mojados", often as young as 13 and 14 years old from Michoacan, Durango and Sonora huddle, damp and malnourished, under the city's freeway overpasses, hoping to avoid "La Migra", until they can hop a freight train to the lettuce fields of Fresno or Gilroy at four o'clock in the morning.

The billowing white canvas roof of the San Diego Convention Center, resplendent in the evening twilight, offers a stark contrast to the San Diego Rescue Mission at the corner of 11th and "J" Streets, only a few blocks away. Here, derelicts, alcoholics, criminals and the growing ranks of San Diego's homeless population, now conservatively estimated to exceed 12,000 persons, mingle with a rotating pool of thousands of young, ambitious Latinos who are either seeking employment locally, or a trip north or east where employment can be found. In the meantime, these latest immigrants, some with temporary documentation, rely on Soup Kitchens and Evangelical Missions to survive.

Casting a glance to the East along the Mexican Frontier, the observer encounters the twin towns of Calexico and Mexicali, connected by a subterranean passage manned by Border Police on both sides. Imperial County in California has become a favored location for trafficking operations since pressure was increased in the San Ysidro and Tijuana corridor. In Mexicali, La Lucerna, an upscale restaurant frequented by well-to-do Mexicans and U.S. tourists, serves as a focal point for meetings and gatherings of all types of individuals, many surreptious, many quite legitimate. Victor's, it can be recalled, in Tijuana serves the same range of clientele. Indeed, each border town harbors a selection of establishments catering to a broad spectrum of customers and travelers.

As the observer crosses state lines in both countries, proceeding East, the relatively diminutive border cities of Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Sonora fall within his purview. While these towns do not boast the millions of residents who dwell in Tijuana, San Diego, Juarez and El Paso, they possess unique qualities which are deserving of mention.

Nogales, Sonora is nestled between two hillsides, visible from the main street, Avenida Obregon. On both slopes overlooking this picturesque border town, private homes have been arranged with the least desirable and most modest structures built awkwardly in remote sections near the top reaches of the hillsides. Electricity and water are available on the lower slopes, but become less accessible toward the tops of the hills or in outlying areas.

Like many Mexican border towns, Nogales is characterized by a constant flow of migrants from the South of Mexico and is bursting at the seams with both commercial activity and romantic exoticism. To celebrate the National Holiday, el 16 de Septiembre, the "Alcalde" of Nogales, the "Obispo Catholico" and the Commanding General of the "Fuerza Armada" assigned to Northern Sonora assemble, in full formal attire and uniform, on the ornate stucco balcony of the Palacio Municipal to ring the Bell of Independence and exclaim, in the presence of tens of thousands of energized Mexicans looking on admiringly from below, "Viva Mexico,Viva Mexico, Viva Mexico..." Papier mache rockets, rifles fired into the air, and red, white and green fireworks commemorate, even in the smaller border towns, the Mexican Revolution.

In Nogales, Sonora, the tourist who rises very early in the morning, and ventures out, is all the richer. During the night, which revolves more often than not around the commotion of "pachangas" and "fiestas" frequently sponsored by bars and clubs, which are patronized by both Americans and Mexicans, quite a bit of damage can occur. As intoxicated clients, rough-hewn Arizonans and Sonorans alike, swagger down sidewalks at 3AM, smashing windows and swearing brashly in guttural tones, they leave a trail of debris which amazes the early-riser. More than one Nieveria and Quarto Mil Pas along Avenida Obregon has experienced the rash conduct of nighttime revelers.

In Nogales, Arizona, connected by a strip of scenic roadway to Tucson, a $7.00 bus ride away, the 22 year old Mayor rules supreme over a rebellious, but ultimately submissive City Council. His mercurial decisions and pronouncements are recorded in the local newspaper, still typeset in the style of the Old West, sporting a Gothic Banner at the top of page one which is printed, without photos, in solemn black with the occasional blotch of red ink for dramatic effect.

His Honor is known to frequent the inexpensive hotels of his sister city across the border for extra-curricula entanglements. His constituency is tolerant, although some opponents have assailed his fiscal policies and development plans.

Mexicans who press their faces against cyclone fencing or who cast a glance out of second floor windows toward the United States can clearly discern a towering Burger King sign, in blazing red, orange and yellow, within mere feet of their national territory.

The contrast of cultures is notable in that the somewhat disjointed, but colorful fabric of downtown Nogales, Sonora is offset by the occasional indication of a more economically viable economy to the north. However, the supermarket, for example, in Nogales, Arizona is still a far cry from the Safeways of California. It is clearly disorganized, featuring sawdust on the floor, cartons in disarray, a preponderance of spicy sauces and jalepeno dips, and a distinctly Hispanic undercurrent of Chicano families purchasing essential commodities.

Indeed, the eclectic mix of music, food, language and business activity typifies the "ambiente y sabor" of this sector.

As one approaches Bisbee, Arizona, and its counterpart, Aqua Prieta, Sonora, two small border towns figuring prominently in certain aspects of New Mexico's largest marijuana trafficking case, The Aguirre Affair, and continues past Lordsburg, swinging somewhat northward, along Interstate 10, Deming comes into view and the traveller takes note of a sign indicating the possibility of proceeding south, at this point, toward Columbus, N.M. and Palomas, Chihuahua.

Columbus is noteworthy because it was raided by Pancho Villa, early this century, who killed more than 20 U.S. citizens and absconded with horses, guns and supplies. Although the U.S. Cavalry pursued him into Mexico, he outdistanced them and hid successfully in the hills and rugged badlands of the Chihuahuan Desert. In spite of this, Pancho Villa State Park is nestled within Columbus City Limits and his reputation remains that of a folk "hero" in the broad sense of the term. His admirers have begun to eulogize him as a political opponent of the American system, representing the oppressed Mexican population of the area at the turn of the century.

El Paso is but forty minutes from Las Cruces, a defense-related, university town. To the immediate south of El Paso across the Rio Grande, lies Ciudad Juarez, Mexico's fourth largest metropolis, well within view of the Asarco Smelter's main smokestack belching forth, from its Texas site on a bend in the river, something on the order of 100,000 tons of sulphurous pollutants annually.

Ciudad Juarez, in stark contrast to sprawling El Paso, is a commercially bustling city of over one million persons, vying with Tijuana as the most populous Mexican metropolis on the Border. The city's central Plaza, as is the case in many Mexican towns, is built directly opposite the Catedral de Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe, and an adjoining chapel which is reportedly the oldest structure in Juarez. Unlike many cities, however, the Palacio Municipal is not located in proximity to the central park, which, instead, is surrounded by vendors and merchants offering everything from brightly dyed fabric to "liquados y aguas frescas".

On the outskirts of Juarez, in suburban areas such as Zaragosa, are the ubiquitous maquilladoras, erected under special legislation exonerating all such assembly plants and factories, situated within a circumscribed zone, from taxation and other onerous fiscal provisions. Here, thousands of semi-skilled and skilled Mexican workers, with a fair percentage of women among their ranks, toil along "never-ending" assembly lines and in near sweat-shop conditions for wages ranging from as little as $6.00 per day to perhaps $30.00 for highly specialized degreed technicians or junior engineers.

The maquilladora phenomenon, enabling foreign firms to realize enormous profits and "avail themselves" of labor conditions in Mexico, has already spread from Tijuana, through Nogales and Juarez to Matamoros, near the Gulf.

If San Diego features the Pacific Fleet as its most prominent military operation, and Nogales is in the vicinity of Fort Huachuca, El Paso certainly can boast Fort Bliss as its principal source of Defense funding. Eagle Pass, in Texas, has an Air Force operation, and additional facilities are located, on the American side, closer to the Gulf. Indeed, this international border is heavily endowed with a highly visible military presence. In comparison, the U.S.-Canadian Border is distinguished by a more peaceful state of affairs, arguably because the history of U.S- Mexican relations has been measurably more violent than relations with our neighbor to the North.

As the sun sets over the "Lone Star of Texas", a gigantic illuminated symbol on the southern slopes of the Franklin Mountains, sporadic gun-fire can be heard many nights a week in the vicinity of El Paso's railroad yards, along Texas Avenue. It emanates from the Mexican side of the border and is aimed at U.S. Railroad Guards and Border Patrol Agents whose duties may include the arrest and interdiction of undocumented aliens attempting to move north in search of jobs. Tensions in the immediate vicinity of the border, in El Paso as well as in less well-known locations such as Sunland Park, New Mexico, vary from week to week. Permanent fencing, along this sensitive zone, is to be constructed to attenuate the risk of a diplomatically embarrassing conflict. Indeed, loss of life has been reported with increasing frequency in recent years.

There exists, in spite of these tensions, a distinct sense of brotherhood in the El Paso/Juarez corridor. In El Paso, concern is "running high" that Thomason Hospital will be required, if new organizational changes are implemented, to abandon its free-care policy for any person, Mexican or American, who requests medical assistance. Pete Duarte, Director of Thomason, attends City Council Meetings frequently to bolster his hospital's position that humanitarian and fraternal assistance is a "sine qua non" of life along the border.

The contiguous cities of El Paso and Juarez have developed a clear sense of purpose, distinct in many ways, but dependent on a symbiotic relationship that works to the benefit of all Border Residents.

Western Texas is not entirely typical of the flavor encountered farther east along the Mexican-American frontier. The smaller towns of Eagles Pass and Piedras Negras several hundred miles south and east from El Paso-Juarez represent a somewhat different atmosphere by virtue of an emphasis on agriculture and livestock. During harsh times, particularly aggravated by drought conditions and competition for scarce resources on both sides of the border, it is difficult for local residents to eke out a living.

In Eagles Pass there is a community college and an Air Force presence which help to shore up the local economy. Cross-border labor exchanges sometimes take place as needs arise for harvesting or manufacturing purposes.

In Texas, as well as in the Mexican states of Chihuahua, Coahuila, Nuevo Leon and Tamaulipas, a unique variety of music has emerged in the last several decades, and has spread throughout the American Southwest. Tejano Music, personified by the late Latina Singer Selena, has achieved new heights of popularity in large cities including San Antonio, Houston and Dallas, and in other major markets on both sides of the border. Thematic content ranges from romance, to trafficking, and from politics to ranching. The unique, often bilingual, aspect of these songs -- whether in the form of plaintiff ballads or raucous mariachi merriment -- appeals to local residents and tourists alike.

On the Gulf Coast, where Matamoros meets Brownsville, humid sub-tropical air masses which move in swirling patterns, bringing hurricanes and tempests of devastating force, heavily influence the lives of these coastal residents.

Both towns are industrial centers of some importance, and with industry comes the problem of pollution. Water is at risk, as is the air. News reports originating from both sides of the border indicate that birth defects and genetic anomalies are beginning to concern medical specialists and researchers.

The Mexican-American Border is alive with the spirit of two deeply rich and varied cultures, extending from the birthplace of the Tijuana Brass to the Maquillas of Matamoros, and from ever-popular Imperial Beach in San Diego to University of Texas at Brownsville.

What Americans and Mexicans wish to accomplish in this delicately beautiful and yet tremendously animated zone of biculturalism must be determined jointly and in the spirit which has always characterized the relationship between these two Great Nations.