Along the line that divides the land of Lake Texcoco from the ejido of San Bernardino, west of the ancient basin, there is a fence made of concrete posts fixed in the ground, with three rows of tense barbed wire strung between each post. A tin billboard stands next to the fence, showing a barely legible layer of paint, corroded by rain, wind, and the soil’s salinity. The sign announces: “Federal Zone: construction site for the Lake Texcoco Ecological Park.” Around the sign, grass rises half a meter above the ground; brushwood has scrambled into the scene, intertwined with the green, dense turf. Although being partially made of concrete, the fence looks feeble, and its height can be surpassed if one uses the wires as steps to climb to the other side. It seems to have been erected as a symbolic division between two territories, as a warning or a signal to the ejidatarios (owners of ejido lands) on the San Bernardino side: “these lands do not belong to you anymore; they belong to no-one except the lake itself, zealously guarded by the vigilant eye of the Government.” A few meters away from the fence, the National Water Commission (Conagua) has in effect erected a surveillance booth, looking eastward; a woman in a black uniform leans out, greeting us and returning to her post, to fix her gaze upon a horizon of possible threats which lie all on the other side of the fence. [...]
Campground
in ENCYCLOPEDIA