All This and Juarez, Too: Chamizal Nat'l Memorial 3/19/10

On August 29, 1963, President John F. Kennedy and Mexican President Adolfo Lopez Mateos signed a treaty calling for "a transfer of land, relocation of nearly 5,000 residents, and confinement of the Rio Grande to a concrete channel to curtail its wanderings permanently." Though the land swap itself would not be formalized until 1967, the treaty signified a new day in Mexican/American relations, symbolized by the Chamizal National Memorial. Though officially a 55-acre celebration of peace and reconciliation, Chamizal is also a public park, hosting live music, dancing, and arts festivals in the spirit of friendship. With so many memorials (NPS and otherwise) marking tragedy and sadness, this is a hopeful, optimistic place; a haven of color, beauty, and joy amidst the chaos of the surrounding community. Original intentions aside, its location is now a sick joke, as just over the pass lies Juarez, Mexico (now, and perhaps forever) the most violent city on planet Earth.

Arriving at Chamizal as we did (late in the day, with no festivals on tap), it was a confusing memorial indeed, as it was indistinguishable from the local park of your choosing. That's not the fault of Chamizal, of course, but without a schedule of events, this becomes a place that, at best, will hold fifteen minutes of your attention. The visitor center is more of a gallery, showcasing the contributions of children, both from Mexico and El Paso, Texas. I'm no fan of "kid art," so none of it affected me in the slightest, and all I cared to view was the short film on the treaty's history and impact. As an educational showpiece, it was a remarkable little movie, and it provides the context and perspective one needs to understand why the treaty was so important. To these eyes, it appears to have been an apology of sorts for the Mexican-American War of 1848, which is fine by me, as we still retain California and the entire Southwest. Apologies are okay, so long as the land stays on our side.

After the film, visitors are left with, well, the above border marker, which is sort of hilarious in light of the current problem with illegal immigration. The visitor center has a brightly decorated mural and the park's grounds are clean, but you're in trouble when people start looking for a swingset for want of anything to do. Reaching Chamizal is also an adventure, as turning your head for a moment will ensure that you end up on the road to Juarez, with no means of turning around. El Paso is, against the odds, one of America's safest big cities (think about all the federal agents and such in the area), but as said, there's no reason to go to Juarez unless you harbor some kidnapping and beheading fantasy. We drove down by the international bridge (the crowds were thick and endless, but we still assumed we'd be the ones killed), but could not find a parking space that made us think there'd still be a car left when we returned. But yeah, that's just an excuse. Despite getting passports for this very trip, we just couldn't enter Mexico. At least not here. Maybe I'm being sensitive, but I long ago vowed never to piss my pants with fear while on vacation.

So yeah, Chamizal is all about the stamp (plus a bonus!), and there's nothing wrong with that. Get in, get out, and spend some quality time in El Paso, which surprised me with its accessibility and windy charm. Mind you, I'd never live here, but I felt good being out and about, though it's easy to feel all cocksure and secure when you venture no further than Outback restaurant and Baskin-Robbins. But from the busy highway after the sun had set, we could see the lights of Juarez proper, an endless metropolis that, despite its placid appearance, bleeds from every pore, sparing no one in its drug-fueled depravity. It seems Chamizal was all about the battle, forgetting entirely about the war to come.

FINAL RATING

2/10