Junked cars money for border town
Abandoned cars left on streets and piled in yards have turned Ciudad Juarez
into a
sprawling automotive graveyard, and the city wants to turn those eyesores
into a
profit. Junk dealers started a campaign Tuesday to clear the streets and
try to make
the city into a center for steel.
For years, smugglers have brought in the cheapest running vehicles they
could find
from the Texas side of the border. There are few checks in Mexico on
U.S.-registered cars until drivers pass checkpoints 12 miles past the frontier
--
something most in Ciudad Juarez, right on the border, don't have to do.
It's often cheaper to buy a car here than to fix one. Many people sell
any valuable
parts after their jalopy breaks down, abandon the carcass and then buy
another car.
The junkyard owners' union estimates 500,000 abandoned cars litter city
streets --
enough to reach almost to Chicago if parked bumper to rusting bumper. An
additional 1.5 million pack junkyards.
With companies on both sides of the border ready to buy the scrap metal,
the union
says it expects to tow 100 cars a day.
"We have enough junked cars to become a center for steel," said Hector
Lozoya,
president of the association of junkyard owners, known as Yonkeros.
Even the term "yonke" is a cross-border import. In Spanish, it's often
pronounced a
lot like "junk-ay."
Many of the cars are untaxed, dirt-cheap U.S. vehicles without plates that
are
technically illegal on both sides of the border.
Some were bought legitimately in the United States. Others were stolen.
Yonkeros
say they will check serial numbers and report any stolen cars they pick
up.
Elsewhere in Mexico, legal imports are restricted, and taxes and fees push
the price
of cars far above what it would be in the United States -- and well out
of reach for
the poor.
Wages along the industrialized border are among the highest in Mexico and
a
more-or-less running car can be had for as little as $100 -- about two
weeks
earnings for a typical factory worker.
For many migrants from Mexico's impoverished south, cars are the first
tangible
sign they are getting ahead, even as they live in shacks.
Angel Salazar, who left the southeastern state of Veracruz, said he never
dreamed
he would own a car.
"When I was a farm worker in Veracruz, I barely made enough for bus fare,"
he
said.
The 19-year-old laborer lives in a hovel with 10 relatives. They have no
indoor
plumbing, but their love for cars has led to an impromptu junkyard in the
dirt lot
next door.
A dilapidated Ford Astro van stands beside the ravaged remains of their
first car, a
Chevy Chevette, left without tires, lights, windows, a driver's seat or
motor.
Neighbors contributed other heaps: an Oldsmobile, a Ford Fairmont, the
shell of an
unidentifiable van.
"We're tired of being seen as dirtbags," said Lozoya, the yonkero chief.
"We want
to clean up the city."
While 20 percent of the project's earnings will go to city beautification,
the plan also
offers an economic opportunity for residents hit hard by the U.S. downturn
after
September 11. More than 80,000 factory workers have lost their jobs.
Yonkeros will pay $30 to $100 for the old cars, depending on their condition.
In
turn, yonkeros hope to sell enough scrap metal to equal several thousand
tons of
steel a month.
Wearing a diamond ring, gold bracelet and ostrich-skin boots, Lozoya declined
to
say how much yonkeros earn. But he said business has been good.
"The good thing about this business," he said, "is that the merchandise
never goes
bad."
Copyright 2002 The Associated Press.