The border between the federal terrains of Lake Texcoco and the towns of San Luis Huexotla and San Bernardino extends today like a wasteland comprising a number of hectares, covered only by the salt emanating from the earth, by a few grass-planted areas, and by piles of rubble, scattered far and wide. Many hectares remain free from occupation, expectant, irresolute, as if not belonging to any of the territories reclaiming them. In the adjoining zones such as this, or as in the Mexico-United States border, there always exists a strip of vacant land that self-effaces the evidence of man’s passing. The ruins, those isolated pieces without value or context, are witnesses of human life now erased, remaining the only thing that resists being devoured along this “becoming-border.”  [...]