Short on Purchasing Power

It was a toss up when titling this segment between that and "Sweet, sweet news," cause sweet the news was that Chayo, by phone, had just disseminated. He'd received, also by phone, a blow-by-blow account of election for new ejido chief. This change of guard had been postponed for a week, not enough ejido members showing up the Sunday before at junta in Cd. Constitucion. There was dispute as to site of this voting, one faction understanding very well that the edge might be theirs in that city, the other faction insisting that event be held up in the mountains, where it traditionally had been, at San Jose De La Noria; to where, this one week later, it did get moved. Apparently this second one had drawn sufficient crowd.

"What'd Chayo have to say that you responded so favorably to?" Marcia asks me when I come back to set by warming martini-time fire.

"Wow! A lot!" I came back. I went inta tellin' her that Chayo's brother-in-law, they call him "Profi Manual," because he's a school teacher, had out polled Robi's candidate by five votes (this would later be amended to four).

From this initial (albeit second hand) report, I caught a glimpse of the action: Robi was up there trying to buy or promise great things to any who'd side with his candidate, right up to the moment of the vote. There'd been a real hat-stompin' procedural fight with respect to boughten votes that arrived as letters of authorization from those who'd sold out but didn't desire to attend. They were disallowed.

We both sat looking into glowing coals falling into contemplation as to what effect this vote was bound to have:

"Profi Manual," we know him, not well but casually. As a matter of fact his casa in Constitutcion with its doublewide lot filled with rooster cages borders the west side of our shell-cutting operation. Four of his brother-in-laws are employed there. Nice, polite and correct seemin' young fella. Never once picked up any bad vibes from the guy. Certainly a better choice as ejido chief than the thoroughly discredited Gutierrez. And a much better man for the job than Chayo's oldest brother, El Jaro, Cresencio Telemontes, who'd been rumored the only interested candidate. We'd experienced him as ejido chief before. No thanks.

Marcia got up and went for a before-dark walk with the dogs, as is their almost-every-evening custom. I remained close there by those glowing embers, me continuing to think through in greater depth the ramifications of this just-unfolded event. For sure, mentally I was doin' victorious war hoops of joyous celebration. Whew! What an effect this was going to have on Robi's already bad situation. With the Quijano victory and now this dramatic local power shift, his goose looked pretty well cooked, right there and then to me.

My pen, ya might say, was itchin' ta get movin'. But I needed more info, for sure, than just one ten minute phone conversation. We'd made plans to go to town Tuesday, me hopin' to pick up more fine detail then. For the whole next day, me doin' inlay in my solar-powered shell shop, I could hardly keep focused on anything else.

Tide wouldn't let us around to San Cosme till after 11 a.m. Soon as we come up off low-tide-only pass we spot Chayo's pickup, its hood up, settin' there by his casa. Great! Just the guy I'd been hopin' to bump into. Marcia, she's drivin', wheels straight on over there.

We can only get so close 'cause of a bumpy arroyo crossing we didn't want to subject our wheels to. I'm just getting' outta cab when I see Maria, heading for her casa, her youngest daughter Marcia in her arms. Then way back behind her and headin' in hast for right there too was big, heavy set Chayo. It didn't take long for him to lumber over to where I'd limped to. He seemed as eager to off-load what he had as I was toward takin' it in.

Shell business first. Maybe we burned three er four minutes with that. Then we went on to what he understood I was hot ta get. (This is when that vote count went from five ta four.) He says Robi was there, along with Gutierrez, them trying ta buy er hustle every vote possible. I get filled in on how his brother, who'd been expected to run, flipped things over to Prof. Manual, him sayin' Profi Manual would do a better job. I'm told that Robi and Co., furious after that defeat, were attempting to have the vote annulled. Chayo said there was no chance of that. No. It had been a legitimate meetin' with a legitimate vote and Profi Manual had won. Even Robi's choice, Jose Telamontes, Chayo's cousin, was not contesting the results. He tells me that Jose was relieved at not winning and had not wanted to run in the first place. Jose right away wanted to make peace with Profi Manual and all of Chayo's voting-ejdio-member brothers, who all voted for the Profi.

While we're discussing this stuff, an older gent, maybe my age, is slowly working his way towards us from the cluster of structures between there and the restaurante San Cosme; and as he closed I recognize the face. His name doesn't immediately come ta me so I ask Chayo in low voice and he comes back the same with "Chino Telamontes." Oh. Yeah. Sure. Chino. It'd been a long time since I'd last visited San Jose. My goodness, he's aged.

We go through the, "Hi Chino," "Hi Dahveed," routine, bull shit fer a few minutes and then Chayo and me break away toward our pickup, so I can show him pertinent info that I've there inside. During this walk-away he explains that Chino is there waiting for Robi to show, so some sorta deal for his vote could be completed. The pay off. Chayo motioned over at the restaurante ta where another eight er ten were also waiting for Robi; promised jobs, promised money? he didn't claim to know everybody's exact reasoning's. He had information that almost immediately after Robi's big defeat he'd flown off to San Diego. He didn't think these guys waiting were gonna experience very good luck. We're at the truck then and he's tellin' me about how Gutierrez, without sayin' "goodbye" er "thanks for the memories," just got the hell outta there as fast as he could.

What I'd wanted him to see was a copy of the Quijano families' original survey for their Rancho Palo Blanco. It's a simple, straight forward document with all the cordanances at all the critical points, clearly enumerated. Even though we've had this copy on file for quite a number of years, Chayo'd never been exposed to it.

Of specific interest to us was the boundary line that stretches from some point on the "Alligator in repose" that is the rock pile of Punta San Cosme...straight to a triangular intersect with that rancho's western boundary, at El Picacho De San Cosme. We both looked up right there behind us and agreed on what was definitely that peak. We both agreed that if the point of reference on Punta San Cosme was its highest elevation, which I had always assumed it was, then the line, at the very least, affected Robi's access to his destruction zone...and then went on to eliminate all parcels that he and Co. had laid out on the landward side of that living lagoona.

But then Chayo tells me that the old survey marker isn't up on top, but instead, it's at the alligators' snout. Geez. I considered that for a while, and it didn't sound at all illogical that a survey team would measure from point to point. From that perspective, then, everything that Robi had been up to there...sets on old Palo Blanco. Interesting....

Chayo wanted to be sure that I understood what the power shift that had just occurred really meant. Last election Robi and Gutierrez had just barely squeaked by, wait a minute...that wasn't an election but rather the vote for Robi and Gutierrez grand plan, when all the promised goodies - gas station at the junction, paved road and electric brought in, hospital for the Agua Verde area people, trailer park at San Fernando for the ejido, the marina and the whole nine yards of, ah...incentives was tossed out there.

The primary opposing force back then was a guy, also from Los Cabos, who'd bought 30 ejido rights, er memberships, and if I get this right, he's able to vote all of them. Gustavo is the guys name, and he was a prime backer of Prof. Manual. This Gustavo character was completely against Robi and Gutierrez and their plan...and was just biding his time till this next election, him knowing full well that those big promises made would never get filled.

Ok. Now he held the hammer and Chayo tells me that he's buddies with the Gov., someone who Robi and Co. had campaigned against. Chayo, us both lookin' over at Robi's mess, stated that Robi now hadn't a chance at getting any permits for that marina scam. "Not a chance," he grinningly informed me.

The subject switched to the very recent visit that seven carros carrying officials of "PROFEPA," the environmental protection agency here in Mexico, paid to the area. The reason for such an extraordinary show of force was what Robi had been doing in the federal tide zone along the estuary and the digging of construction materials, sand and gravel, for his ego erections. Arroyos here are federal zones also. You don't do anything here in arroyos without a permit, which, of course, like with the road he was wanting to doze through the countryside here, Robi and Co. had neglected to procure.

According to Chayo, who paid a visit here this morning, 2-18-'06, a week after that election, PROFEPA definitely put a stop to those illicit activities. He brought with him his uncle, the last living brother of Chayo's two-years-dead-now father, an ejido member for sure, an old and crippled up gent, who was amongst those still waiting for Robi to show at San Cosme. He'd voted for Profi Manual and wasn't directly involved in selling his vote but he'd traveled here from Los Cabos, where he's moved to, with his son...who'd been promised a good job on Robi's project. The kid had a job in Los Cabos but quit it because of Robi's glowing promises made.

That's right. Robi hasn't showed up yet. The work over there where he's making that mess has come to complete halt. Chayo ventured a guess that he just might not come back. And this old man there was definitely callin' him a big liar.

Email: david@dondavidonbaja.com