Mapping Social Territory in Place

My 1998 model metal/acrylic cocoon enables me to go around the main public space in the Álamos town: La Alameda. I do it on the outside, as one of the inconspicuous old cars surrounding the site circling it over and over. The only difference is my rolled up windows and turned off radio. This Explorer car is already familiar to everyone in town; its sight captures no one’s special attention. It is Friday, early morning hours and the Alameda is fully alive. Under the shade of three millenary Uhanacastles the same traditional gatherings, duets, solos and family dialogues are picking up their climax as merchant transactions and lingering traditions increase. Scenes of engagement and belonging are bountiful. From my car, at a speed of 5 miles per hour, I notice mainly men, their white ranchero hats are a common factor among members of these gender from any age groups. They are strategically placed in their territorial sites, eyes making contact mostly with other males, most of them settled, immobile. In contrast, women and children roam all around, some demand, others provide, all of them take: time, chances, risks and looks.

A shoe shining stand expands its domain over half of the Alameda area making sure access is possible to his booth from every angle.

On the opposite extreme, a more humble, yet elder and wiser man competes for clients. He knows how to get advantage over his adversary by simply allowing his clients to have an outside view rather than one looking inward towards the gardens in the Alameda, all the while having their boots brushed. Consciously or not he enables their desire to show off in a very attractive macho body language. Men in their ranchero style attires, fitted bodies and tanned skin take this stand to emphasize their notoriety on the Alameda.

I penetrate reality, park the Explorer and walk towards as strategic lookout. Once in the Kiosk, I get targeted by my fans, little kids with whom I have been playing in town for the last three weeks. They found me at once and ran towards me. Their mothers’ sight follows. I decided not to be the focus of attention and take a walk, meandering through all the stands hand in hand with a few of them.

Children are the true kings of this emporium, everything in the Alameda alludes to their pleasure: colorful candy and plastic toys, stairs and benches; perfect scenarios to play hide and seek. Taco stands, fruit and juices.

On the periphery of the Alameda portals to other dimensions open wide: the bus station can take passengers away from the Alameda back into their ranches where a culture of the 1500’s prevails nowadays, bars sponsored by Tecate and Corona, invite humans to question and forget their condition, a brothel spreads desires, secrets and disease among customary visitors. But the street separating the interior rectangular field of the Alameda from these terminals sets the boundary for the kids’ ruling games and requests.