When the river sounds, it carries oil
Imagine this: it’s an ordinary Friday in Poza Rica, the typical oil city that smells of progress and, well, oil. Suddenly, a Pemex siren sounds not to mark the change of shift, but like the real and terrifying version of an Amber Heard alarm. Minutes later, the Cazones River decided that it was already bored with its course and went partying through the city, taking everything in its path and leaving a poisoned gift: a mixture of water, mud and splashes that would make even the most stoic environmentalist cry.
Lilia Ramírez, a neighbor who was probably just hoping for a quiet weekend, ran out of her house. When he returned, he found that his home, previously a pink color that screamed “good vibes,” now sported a black sloppy interior design that not even the most alternative architect would have dared to propose. “I have never been this sloppy in my life,” he declared, in what could be the euphemism of the year. Her husband, Roberto Olvera, described the moment as “distressing,” because while they managed to escape, other neighbors were not as lucky.
This is the chronicle of a natural disaster that sounds like a disaster movie, but with the plot twist that it is our reality. Veracruz, that state that we normally associate with beaches and coffee, has become the epicenter of a tragedy that has left, so far, at least 64 dead and 65 missing. The figures, cold and hard, hide stories of chaos, loss and a fight against the clock that seems taken from a particularly dramatic episode of a Netflix series.
The post-apocalyptic landscape (but in Mexico)
If you thought that having seen its streets after a Bad Bunny concert was the height of the disaster, you have not seen Poza Rica after the river decided to become the protagonist. We are talking about a lethal cocktail where mud, debris and a blackish paste are mixed that stains everything in its path: trees, tin roofs, and even the poor cars that ended up posing on roofs as if they were modern sculptures. The “aesthetic” detail was provided by the oil stains that decorated the walls, a constant reminder that in this region black gold is both a blessing and a curse.
And this is where the plot gets juicy: neighbors like Lilia claim that on other occasions the rains had washed away oil from nearby oil wells, but that Pemex used to drain those areas regularly. This time, according to his testimony, the cleaning was not done properly. When the AP consulted the state oil company, its response was the corporate equivalent of “I wasn’t there”: a brief message saying that they had no reported “operational failure or leak of wells in that area.” Meanwhile, on their social networks they only talked about their work to support those affected, because community management in crisis is an art.
The situation is so serious that in some points the water reached 4 meters high, enough to drown even the most optimistic hopes. Parts of Veracruz received about 627 millimeters of rain between October 6 and 9, which in earthly terms means more rain fell in three days than some European cities receive in six months. Governor Rocío Nahle speaks of more than 300,000 victims in that region alone, numbers that hurt more than a hangover after a long weekend.
Operation rescue: when the heroes don’t wear capes
While we debate on Twitter about the latest unimportant controversy, the federal government deployed an operation with 10,000 soldiers and sailors, because when the situation gets ugly, it’s time to bring out the heavy artillery. The military mobilized by land and with helicopters to reach the most affected places, working to clean roads to access approximately 200 communities that woke up on Monday as cut off as your ex after a breakup.
Luis Alba, from the international rescue team Topos (those legendary human beings who run towards danger when everyone else is fleeing), commented a little respite: “It helped us that it hasn’t rained; the water level dropped a lot.” But like in any good Mexican soap opera, just when you thought it was going to get better, the plot twist arrives: the Meteorological Service warned of more torrential rains for Tuesday morning in eight states, including the north of Veracruz, Hidalgo and Puebla. Because what is a drama without a little extra suspense?
In Hidalgo, north of the capital, the situation is no less dramatic: there were 43 people not located, and the authorities were still making efforts to reach 115 communities. Its governor Julio Menchaca explained it on Milenio Television with that worried look that only officials have when the situation is really screwed up.
President Claudia Sheinbaum, who has been touring the affected areas as if it were her own musical tour but without the music and with much more tragedy, acknowledged that it will still take several days to access the most complicated points. Among the most urgent tasks are the air bridges to bring water, food and medicine, because when the earth fails you, it’s time to look at the sky. “Many flights are required to carry enough food and water,” said the president, in what seems like the understatement of the year.
But not everything is chaos and hopelessness. Sheinbaum assured that “there are enough resources” and that “they will not be spared… because we are still in an emergency period.” Words that sound comforting, although one can’t help but wonder if these resources will reach people in time who have literally lost everything except hope (and the tar stains on the walls).
The reason for so much water (and no, it is not climate change doing its thing)
The authorities have attributed this aquatic coven to the passage of two tropical systems that formed on the western coast of Mexico – Hurricane Priscilla and Tropical Storm Raymond – together with a cold front and a warm front that decided to have a party in the most vulnerable area. Basically, it was the perfect storm, literally.
The phenomenon arrived just at the end of an unusually strong rainy season that has left the rivers at full capacity, the groundwater tables completely loaded, and hills weaker than our self-control when faced with tacos al pastor. With this scenario, the risks of overflows and landslides multiply like memes during election season.
And for those who wonder why there was not more warning, Sheinbaum has the answer: he denied that the prevention systems failed because “it would be difficult to have had much advance knowledge of this situation, different from what happens with cyclones.” In other words, sometimes nature simply decides to play tricks on us without warning, like that friend who tells you he’s going to spend “a little while” and stays three days.
Meanwhile, in the midst of the mud, the loss and the uncertainty, there are stories of solidarity that shine brighter than any social media influencer. Private construction companies have made their equipment available to open roads, rescue teams are working around the clock, and entire communities are organizing to get ahead. Because if we Mexicans know something, it is that when things get difficult, we bring out that resilient spirit that characterizes us.
Were you moved by this story of survival in the face of adversity? Share it on your social networks to raise awareness about the emergency that Mexico is experiencing. And if you want to stay informed about how to help or follow the rescue efforts, explore more related content on our site.
