We’re approaching election time in Mexico. I don’t follow it too closely. I’m guessing governors, congress or senators, or maybe a combination of the three, are all looking to keep their jobs. Many won’t, I’m sure. Whilst I don’t follow it terribly enthusiastically, Mexicans get thoroughly into the electoral process. They care a great deal about the democratic process, and more particularly, their chosen candidate.
Which I find a little amusing. Because there’s not so much recent historical evidence to suggest the politicians care much about the voters. Rallies are held, the masses turn up, balloons are blown up, banners unfurled, posters stuck to walls by the gazillion and the politicos whisper sweet nothings into the microphone. Everyone goes home happy, and before you know it, their man or woman has jumped into a metaphorical bed with the enemy, banked the donations in a secret account or otherwise swindled their supporters. And everyone else.
I took the photo below in Huichapan recently. Pacho Olvera is the man of the hour there. What’s he like? I’ve no idea. Maybe he’s one of the few decent, honest politicians. Maybe he won’t screw his constituents. But as far as I can see, an honest politician in Mexico would whisper honest sweet nothings into a microphone. Drop your trousers, bend over and take what’s coming gracefully. There’s a good chap!
