Bloodshed in Mexico

Geez.  Ah geez.

I emanated these vocal sounds involuntarily as I writhed/ cringed on the chair in front of the computer monitor, which displayed the latest news about drug cartels in Mexico.

At the risk of sounding like a doomsday bugler, war clouds are unmistakably looming over certain parts of the world today.  It is easy to shake your head disdainfully when reading about the latest proclamation of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad that “Israel will be wiped off the map very soon”.  It is easy to chuckle softly to yourself and utter “crazy” under your breath when you glimpse footage of a million Iranians rallying around a giant missile in a typical Tehran parade, shouting “Death to Israel!”.  There is Hugo Chavez, whose Venezuela has seen homicide rates rise 67 percent since taking office, even as massive, national military drills each month to prepare for an “American Invasion”.  There is Kim Jong Il, whose North Koreans are six inches shorter (malnourishment) than their otherwise genetically identical Southern ilk.  Yet, the populations these guys oversee eat out of their palms, voluntarily or not.

But at least these David Koreshes have the dense simplicity to herald their plans in plain language, and at least they are thousands of miles away.  Besides, I find it hard to believe the true power within the smaller government of our government actually feel threatened by these silly little men who are inching towards acquiring one or two nukes; the U.S. has 40, 000 nuclear warheads alone and is comparatively invulnerable in a nuclear war.

These cartels are a quieter, more insidious and seemingly faster-growing threat to the U.S.  While the groups are not overtly engaging in acts of war -swaggering about their nuclear potential or conducting intense military drills as a country- their increasing political power from drug money is gradually pervading the pillars of Mexico’s civilized society.  The cartels’ rapid wealth accumulation is literally starting to buy legitimacy in Mexico, fostering a culture of fear among denizens of cartel-plagued areas that law enforcement officials are increasingly being bribed by cartels.

Then there is the bloody campaign of the cartels itself, the casualties.  The use of car bombs by cartels has risen sharply in the last months of 2010.  Kingpin after kingpin is killed, often buried in an elaborate mausoleum in a prominent part of town (see National Geographic’s April 2010 issue) and replaced by kingpin after kingpin.  The cartels are amorphous, faceless, nameless.  The modus operandi, killing, is the only non-variable.  There is no declaration of war and a shout of “charge!”, or a definite ending and beginning.  The cartels are fighting each other, the government is fighting the cartels, and violence is incidental to the whole business.  In the last year, 2500 people were killed in Ciudad de Juarez (Juarez City) alone.  That’s five times the homicide rate of Chicago, which has the highest rate in the U.S.

Very recently, prominent economists and politicians alike said tourist areas are safe from the cartels, but now that’s out the window, too.  In April, gunmen from the Arellano-Felix cartel raided a Holiday Inn in Montery, even having the temerity to block off all roads leading to the Holiday Inn with paramilitary tanks, in case any local cops decided to get fresh and rush to the scene.  Four hotel guests and two employees were abducted; no word yet on their whereabouts.  In October, a similar raid occured at an Acapulco resort.  This is further bad news for a country whose number one industry, tourism, has already taken a dive because of its recent swine-flu outbreak and the growing perception of it as an unsafe vacation spot.

Pew Global Research, as of 2009, ranked Mexico second most likely to suffer a governmental/ economic collapse (Pakistan was no.1), in spite of being an ostensibly stable nation.

The very infrastructure of Mexico is crumbling because of this pernicious bloodshed.  Also, problems have been known to migrate.  Our country has its own violence issues, with battery, school shootings and gangs.  But imagine if Mexico’s carnage went just northerly, which there is growing evidence of along the US-Mexico border.  Most Americans I know wince when they drive past roadkill.  Imagine if it were commmonplace for a U.S. town of 300,000 to have eight murders a day.  Would roadkill still disturb us?

A Generous Man

What to do after college?

For many this is never a question: Seek the loftiest, highest-paying job possible with your new bachelor’s degree.  Fr. Lawrence Mudduse could have chosen this path, having obtained degrees from Lewis University (B.A., communication) and St. Mary’s (B.A.) in Mundelein.  But his heart led him back to his home country Uganda, where he now works for a Catholic parish in the town of Kabona.

In addition to giving sermons and doing goodwill work for the locals, Muddusse oversees the diocese’s publications and press work.  It is not among the highest-paying jobs in the world, even by the standards of a Catholic priest’s humble salary.  In fact, it costs Mudduse money to work there, since he finances the schooling of some local children.

“My kids that I sponsor are doing well.  I have paid through the nose to take them back to school in terms of tuition.  I have spent $4000 on them.  That is the sacrifice I have made: to educate these youngsters instead of having a vehicle to take me around…” he said.

To compound the issue, resources and access to learning tools are limited.  Things that are in cheap abundance here are “exorbitantly” priced in Uganda.  Mudduse has trouble getting his diocese financiers to fund the monthly church magazine.  When simple things like paper are available, they are often of poor quality.  “The internet here is very poor and expensive,” Mudduse said.

In August, Mudduse designed the magazine for his parish, but the necessary materials used in publishing -ink and paper- were not available until one-and-a-half days before the magazine was to be published.  The power went out a day before the magazine was to be finished, so they sought out someone with an electrical generator to power the printer.  They found one, hours before the magazine was to be passed out to parishioners.  There was no magazine binder, so Mudduse and his colleagues put every magazine together by hand, which took about seven hours.

We finished the printing at 11:30 pm and started embarking on binding the magazine manually.  It was like walking downtown to Chicago from Northbrook or Lewis University.  We had to bind 1000 copies,” Muddusse said

Muddusse said he misses the convenience in American life.  So why would one choose a hectic, often thankless lifestyle instead of a lucrative job with benefits?  Mudduse seems resigned to this aspect of his vocation.  Is the sacrifice worth it to him?  Based on his being there for six months and having no intention of leaving, it seems to be.

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