If I Die In Ju Rez

Duarte's latest novel is based on a string of real-life murders in Ciudad Jurez in the 1990s. Forced out of the house by her alcoholic mother, 13-year-old Evita takes to the streets, glimpsing newspaper columns about the murders, while struggling to survive. Petra, Evita's comely 19-year-old cousin, exchanges the country life for gritty Jurez to raise money for her ailing father. An acquaintance of Petra, Mayela, a 12-year-old Tarahumara Indian, lives in an orphanage where her artistic talent is discovered.

Essay from the year 2017 in the subject American Studies - Miscellaneous, grade: 2,5, University of Frankfurt (Main), language: English, abstract: In fictive works about the border femicides the police work in two countries (the United States and Mexico) is described differently. In Stella Pope Duarte's book If I Die in Juárez and in Meredith Stiehm's and Elwood Reid's Pilot of the series “The Bridge-America” (2013/14 FX/Netflix) the national police departments of the USA and Mexico are confronted with a femicide1 . In her book Duarte integrates a great knowledge of the real situation regarding the femicides in Juárez, after she had interviewed some of the victim's families. The protagonists of the book are 14-year-old Evita, a poor girl who was forced to prostitution and to live on the streets, her 19-year-old beautiful cousin Petra who becomes a maquiladora worker and Mayela, a young Tarahumara Indian girl who is gifted with an outstanding talent in art. The three girls meet under fateful circumstances to investigate the femicides occurring in Juárez: they reveal the intrigue of a group of criminals until one of them is tortured and killed in an inevitably sadistic way too. The Pilot episode of “The Bridge-America” is about the investigation of a corpse: On the bridge connecting El Paso with Ciudad Juárez, a bisected, mutilated body is found. The two detectives, Mexican Marco Ruiz and American Sonya Cross decide to cooperate to solve the case. After further investigation Cross discovers that the two body parts belong to different persons: Judge Gates and Christina Fuentes, a young Mexican girl and maquiladora worker. Christina Fuentes is one of the world-famous femicides of Juárez and therefore one of uncountable inexplicable corpses. Cross suspects a serial killer behind all the cases, but learns that the Mexican police refuses to investigate further and benefits from bribery instead. The US-American and the Mexican cooperation on the Juárez femicides collapses because of the different development of the police departments, the corruption of the Mexican police and the increasing number of victims.

Ciudad Juarez lies just across the Rio Grande from El Paso, Texas. A once-thriving border town, it now resembles a failed state. Infamously known as the place where women disappear, its murder rate exceeds that of Baghdad. In Murder City, Charles Bowden-one of the few journalists who spent extended periods of time in Juarez-has written an extraordinary account of what happens when a city disintegrates. Interweaving stories of its inhabitants-a beauty queen who was raped, a repentant hitman, a journalist fleeing for his life-with a broader meditation on the town's descent into anarchy, Bowden reveals how Juarez's culture of violence will not only worsen, but inevitably spread north. Heartbreaking, disturbing, and unforgettable, Murder City was written at the height of his powers and established Bowden as one of America's leading journalists.

“A deeply reported, razor smart, up-close account of the Great Drug War . . . Absolutely courageous in its fairness and search for answers.” —William Booth, Washington Post Bureau Chief for Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean The city of Juárez is ground zero for the drug war that is raging across Mexico and has claimed close to 60,000 lives since 2007. Almost a quarter of the federal forces that former President Felipe Calderón deployed in the war were sent to Juárez, and nearly twenty percent of the country’s drug-related executions have taken place in the city, a city that can be as unforgiving as the hardest places on earth. It is here that the Mexican government came to turn the tide. Whatever happens in Juárez will have lasting repercussions for both Mexico and the United States. Ricardo Ainslie went to Juárez to try to understand what was taking place behind the headlines of cartel executions and other acts of horrific brutality. In The Fight to Save Juárez, he takes us into the heart of Mexico’s bloodiest city through the lives of four people who experienced the drug war from very different perspectives—Mayor José Reyes Ferriz, a mid-level cartel player’s mistress, a human rights activist, and a photojournalist. Ainslie also interviewed top Mexican government strategists, including members of Calderón’s security cabinet, as well as individuals within US law enforcement. The dual perspective of life on the ground in the drug war and the “big picture” views of officials who are responsible for the war’s strategy, creates a powerful, intimate portrait of an embattled city, its people, and the efforts to rescue Juárez from the abyss.

A startling analysis of the killing of over 500 women in Ju rez to help readers understand the presence of suffering and evil. Making expert use of narrative theology, Prof. Lu vano uses the killing of over 500 women since 1993 in Ciudad Ju rez as a lens to examine and attempt to understand the role that suffering plays in God's love and relationship with humankind. The first three chapters that form Part I describe events in northern Mexico that provide the context for the killing of young women. The five chapters in the second part examine different themes within the broad context of theodicy the nature of God, the traditional teaching of the church, and contemporary theological approaches to human suffering (e.g., Soelle, Wiesel, Moltman).

Despite the fact that Juarez is a Mexican border city just across the Rio Grande from El Paso, Texas, most Americans are unaware that for more than twelve years this city has been the center of an epidemic of horrific crimes against women and girls, consisting of kidnappings, rape, mutilation, and murder, with most of the victims conforming to a specific profile: young, slender, and poor, fueling the premise that the murders are not random. Indeed, there has been much speculation that the killer or killers are American citizens. While some leading members of the American media have reported on the situation, prompting the U.S. government to send in top criminal profilers from the FBI, little real information about this international atrocity has emerged. According to Amnesty International, as of 2006 more than 400 bodies have been recovered, with hundreds still missing. As for who is behind the murders themselves, the answer remains unknown, although many have argued that the killings have become a sort of blood sport, due to the lawlessness of the city itself. Among the theories being considered are illegal trafficking in human organs, ritualistic satanic sacrifices, copycat killers, and a conspiracy between members of the powerful Juárez drug cartel and some corrupt Mexican officials who have turned a blind eye to the felonies, all the while lining their pockets with money drenched in blood. Despite numerous arrests over the last ten years, the murders continue to occur, with the killers growing bolder, dumping bodies in the city itself rather than on the outskirts of town, as was initially the case, indicating a possible growing and most alarming alliance of silence and cover-up by Mexican politicians. The Daughters of Juárez promises to be the first eye-opening, authoritative nonfiction work of its kind to examine the brutal killings and draw attention to these atrocities on the border. The end result will shock readers and become required reading on the subject for years to come.

At least 200,000 people have died in Mexico’s so-called drug war, and the worst suffering has been in Ciudad Juárez, across the border from El Paso, Texas. How did it get so bad? After three decades studying that question, Howard Campbell doesn’t believe there is any one answer. Misguided policies, corruption, criminality, and the borderland economy are all factors. But none of these reasons explain how violence in downtown Juárez has become heartbreakingly “normal.” A rigorous yet moving account, Downtown Juárez is informed by the sex workers, addicts, hustlers, bar owners, human smugglers, migrants, and down-and-out workers struggling to survive in an underworld where horrifying abuses have come to seem like the natural way of things. Even as Juárez’s elite northeast section thrives on the profits of multinational corporations, and law-abiding citizens across the city mobilize against crime and official malfeasance, downtown’s cantinas, barrios, and brothels are tyrannized by misery. Campbell’s is a chilling perspective, suggesting that, over time, violent acts feed off each other, losing their connection to any specific cause. Downtown Juárez documents this banality of evil—and confronts it—with the stories of those most affected.

In Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, people disappear, their bodies dumped in deserted city lots or jettisoned in the unforgiving desert. All too many of them are women. More or Less Dead analyzes how such violence against women has been represented in news media, books, films, photography, and art. Alice Driver argues that the various cultural reports often express anxiety or criticism about how women traverse and inhabit the geography of Ciudad Juárez and further the idea of the public female body as hypersexualized. Rather than searching for justice, the various media—art, photography, and even graffiti—often reuse victimized bodies in sensationalist, attention-grabbing ways. In order to counteract such views, local activists mark the city with graffiti and memorials that create a living memory of the violence and try to humanize the victims of these crimes. The phrase “more or less dead” was coined by Chilean author Roberto Bolaño in his novel 2666, a penetrating fictional study of Juárez. Driver explains that victims are “more or less dead” because their bodies are never found or aren’t properly identified, leaving families with an uncertainty lasting for decades—or forever. The author’s clear, precise journalistic style tackles the ethics of representing feminicide victims in Ciudad Juárez. Making a distinction between the words “femicide” (the murder of girls or women) and “feminicide” (murder as a gender-driven event), one of her interviewees says, “Women are killed for being women, and they are victims of masculine violence because they are women. It is a crime of hate against the female gender. These are crimes of power.”