A few glorious hours in Laredo (part 1)
Old World Mexico/Texas inside the United States.
My wife had a few days off and thought we should head down to Corpus Christi for some food and beach time. Sounded good to me. As a photographer-type, I looked at the map. The answer that came - Laredo! - was a 2.5 hour drive from Corpus. Laredo is a word rarely spoken - a city hardly ever mentioned.
As we were leaving Corpus, I noticed that a nail was driven into one of our tires. This resulted in a very late departure.
We arrived in Laredo around 530 pm Saturday and were gone by 1 pm the next day. Once you remove hotel check-in, dinner and breakfast, some quick shopping and a little driving to orient oneself, that left about 4 or 5 hours for adventure. This was not my original intention - I needed more time as I wanted to get lost in some of the oldest, roughest parts of Laredo. I also wanted to find a few spots where I could throw a stone over the Rio Grande and almost hit Mexico. And I wanted to frame a few perfect shots where the viewer would be transported to another world. Well, with only a few hours, it was not an ideal situation for a travelogue, especially as I had done about 20 minutes of research prior to arrival!
These images reflect a few brief moments in our brief time in dusty Laredo. Here you’ll get a wee glimpse of Laredo at sunset and night. In the next post, I’ll share Laredo on a Sunday morning.
So, with one new tire, we rolled into the streets of Laredo and found a standard issue hotel for the night. We asked the hotel desk clerk for suggestions on “authentic Mexican food.”
“Like, you want the real thing?” she asked with a slight Hispanic accent. “And something to give you an authentic experience?”
“Exactly!” we proclaimed.
“Then go to Taco Kissi. And go to this particular location!” she insisted.
Taco Kissi is old world America meets old world Mexico. The restaurant is a converted drive-in joint.
You know those moments in movies where things just stop and everyone looks at a particular character? Come on, you know… like the action stops and everyone looks directly at the subject or directly at the camera out of surprise, anticipation or emphasis? Yeah, like that… here’s what we experienced.
Oh, should quickly insert that Laredo’s population is 95.2% Hispanic and roughly 3.5% White, along with trace amounts of everyone else. After all, it’s a US-Mexico border town.
So, we walk into Taco Kissi and for a moment it felt like the restaurant stopped and all eyes were on us… more likely on me, for my wife is Persian and folks constantly try to speak Spanish to her while I am Skin Type 1 with long hair and a beard. So anyway, we open the door and things stopped… it was only for a fraction of a second, but we both saw it with our own four eyes…
…and then a waitress walked up and started speaking Spanish to my wife who quickly explained we only spoke English but it didn’t matter, we could order… but of course the woman only spoke Spanish so we got, “Sit here. I get English.”
One look around yielded an extraordinary vibe; I felt like we had walked on to the set of Good Fellas Goes To Mexico. The restaurant was divided in two with a few divider areas that allowed full visibility. On one side - the side we sat on - there were tables where thick, clean-cut Hispanic men sat together having a wonderful Saturday night dinner with friends. There was, largely, joyful banter. Some of the men, I suspected, had finished work and were eating with co-workers. At a few tables, there were tough-looking hombres who had “the look.” Like a less polished version of Benicio del Toro in Sicario. And while I made eye contact - and the eyes showed keen intelligence - I kept it brief and indifferent. Notably, I had brought a camera into the restaurant but dared not take a photo because you just never know…
On the other side of the restaurant were couples, a few families (I don’t recall seeing any children) and a few tables with only women sitting together. Most people appeared married. And there was not a single gringo.
The food was incredible… plus you felt like you had time traveled back to the 1980s. It was a wonderful experience.
Dusk was upon us and I had no plan - just started driving south/southwest and towards the border. Small homes, small businesses, poverty, old warehouses, closed shops, open fields quickly intersected. Litter randomly appeared as did old, worn-out tires on the roadside. What we didn’t see was people.
As we drove along some tracks, we heard a train horn blasting away as it approached intersections. But which one? There was a maze of tracks, roads and directions so close to the border. We kept driving and looking until it became obvious.
The train came around the corner, between warehouses and dilapidated apartments, and roared right in front of us. The engine and horn were deafening; the wheels shrieked metal on metal due to the track’s curved angle. The roofing of the apartment building near us had dark patches where holes had been fixed with tiles five shades darker, placed amidst a row of TV satellites. Were people living there? Yes. There was at least one rich, warm light visible in one of the windows. Some of the windows were wide open. I couldn’t see them but they were there. Invisible people living in an alternate universe from mine. I so wanted to meet some of them, see their living quarters, understand the basics of their lives.
The cars of the train continued on and on, slower than before, so I took a backroad and got these little nuggets below, colors now darker and richer.
During this time, two things happened. First, one car pulled up, got a glimpse of me and left. I thought of my nephews - how we one time made up the legend of El Blanco, a white cartel member whose actions and dramatically obvious white skin carved out a fearful reputation in south Texas and below. I could hear the parody. Oh, Señor El Blanco is my friend! Please, whatever you do… don’t tell El Blanco! Secondly, the train came to a halt right over our intersection.
After 15 or 20 minutes, the train left and our daughter text a suggestion: San Augustin Plaza. Laredo was founded in 1755 and many streets around San Augustin Plaza, an old town square, have cobblestone and brick laid long before Larry McMurtry wrote Streets of Laredo.
It was already close to 10 pm but I insisted we walk the square. For better or worse, I took French, not Spanish, in college. Growing up in Louisiana, the world was a very different place back then. Surely, French made sense. That was then, this is now.
Perhaps you’ve wondered if what I was doing (and subjecting my wife to) was safe? I’d like to think I have a decent nose for trouble - once in New Orleans, long ago, I was certain two guys were trailing me off the French Quarter during bedtime hours. I usually pay attention to body language and eyes. Once I was on a post 9-11 plane and was pretty damn sure two guys were about to try and take our flight (long story short, Federal Marshalls boarded our plane and hauled them both off). I never got that feeling in Laredo. But one’s instincts can be highly flawed.
Still, I was pretty sure we were going to be okay. We readily pulled over into neighborhoods and small grocery stories. Stats seem to vary but one thing is for sure - crossing the Mexican border into Nuevo Laredo puts you at much higher risk. FBI stats indicate that 66% of all other US cities have less crime than Laredo, but that’s manageable.
On the other hand, another company has ranked Laredo among the safest cities in the entire country. SmartAsset looked at violent crime, property crime, vehicular mortality rate, drug poisoning mortality rate and the population percentage engaging in excessive drinking. Laredo came out as one of the nation’s 10 safest communities!
Most of the images taken that evening were in the El Cuatro / El Tonto neighborhood, an area where household incomes are lower than 99.2% of all U.S. neighborhoods. Almost half of all children there live below the federal poverty line. Surely, folks don’t have dollars sitting around for home improvement.
Well, all good things come to an end. Not being alone, there was no way I was going to be able to further obsess on light and shadow. This was one of my last shots that evening.
One square mile. Easily understood. You walk a mile, turn left, walk a mile and turn left, walk a mile and turn left, and then walk another mile right back to where you began.
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Very intriguing. Your photos and narrative are fascinating. As a Texan you've got me thinking about checking out Taco Kissi - it sounds like it made a lasting impression! I am enjoying reading and viewing your One Square Mile series. Well done!