Fire in the Night
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Last night we stood shivering on the roof and watched the fires burning. To the north, the smoke stood out black against the night sky. To the south, a crescent moon hung over the ruins of Monte Alban. Without any reliable news (only the University Radio frantically calling the populace to arms) we argued about what was burning. "Oh my God, it's the gasoline station," Luis, my teenage neighbhor shreiked, pointing at the thickest column of smoke, beneath which we could make out a flickering orange glow. It was coming from about five blocks west and three blocks north. It wasn't until the morning after that we knew what really happened, as much as we can know in the swirl of propoganda that followed. The fire we'd seen the night before had been the State Supreme court building, located next door to the Pemex station on Independencia. When I arrived around 11AM, joining the crowds of curious behind the yellow police tape, there were still firefighters extinguishing the simmering rubble. The exterior, an imposing yellow colonial structure, was surprising intact:the fire only left inky smoke stains above the windows. The interior was gutted. The only thing left standing inside, was the statue of Benito Juarez, illuminated by a shaft of sunlight. Other buildings burned were the headquarters of the Association of Hotel and Motel Owners, the Secretary of Turism and the adjoining Juarez Theater, the Secretaria of Exterior Relacions, a tax bureau, and two private homes located on 5 de Mayo. These two private residences were the kind of ornate, Porfirian era structures that give the center its charm. Their elegant facades are now singed black. The inhabitants, including an elderly lady who was rescued from the flames by officers of the PFP, have no apparant link to either side of the conflict. While the mainstream media attributes the arsons to the APPO, many of us believe it to be the work of Governor Ulises Ruiz Ortiz and the plainclothes officers that serve him. |
