Campground

Along the line that separates the terrains of Lake Texcoco from the ejido of San Bernardino, west of the ancient basin, lies a fence made of concrete posts, anchored to the ground, with three rows of taut, barbed wire between each post. Beside the fence rises a sign made of tin that shows a barely legible layer of paint, corroded by rain and wind, by the earth’s salinity. The sign announces: “Federal Zone: construction site for the Lake Texcoco Ecological Park.” Around the sign, grass rises half a meter above ground level; a few types of brushwood have 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, neighbors of the ejido; they belong to no-one except Nature itself, zealously guarded by the vigilant eye of the Government.” [...]