Although we were all gung-ho to get some estimates for the sewer hookup, the powers that be in the presidencia told us that we needed to focus on the water project first. As they were willing to entertain the idea of legalizing the illegal pozo (well) that Chuchi commissioned and then sued us over, we needed to reexamine the perforation.
After the well was closed by the water commission and the lawsuits ran their course, we made a sort of roof to cover the open hole to the abyss. This was to prevent any animals or humans from falling to their deaths and give some measure of protection to the tubes that were installed in the event we could make use of it sometime in the unforeseeable future. That was done about 10 years ago.
In November, we commissioned a well study that involved uncovering the site, taking depth measurements, and dropping a camera down the hole to see its condition. Unfortunately, someone deliberately threw a boulder down the well, and it was lodged about 100 feet down, so the well study company could not get accurate readings. Three guesses on who I suspect of doing the dastardly deed.
This well study, which isn’t useable as it is incomplete, cost 7000 pesos. We’ll need someone to come out to clear the boulder and clean any debris at the bottom of the well. The estimate for that job is about 90,000 pesos. Next, a new study will need to be done (another 7000 pesos), and then a water quality and quantity study to see if the water table can handle a drain on it at that location, and that will be about another 13,000 pesos.
The total expense would only be about 200 pesos per lot, divided equally among the property owners. However, as we discovered with the demanda (lawsuit), not even half paid the 250 pesos that saved our properties from repossession. And as we have a small window of opportunity to take advantage of the presidencia’s offer to legalize (next year being an election year and all), we can’t wait for the grumblers and chin pullers to open their wallets and pay up.
Things are moving along on the quest for organization and utilities in La Yacata. We had another community meeting and collected enough to pay for the avalúo catastral, the study done by the Presidencia to access taxes and property values in the upper quadrant. The next step is to pay the predial, the actual tax fee. Brick by brick, as they say….
Anyway, even though I was exceedingly clear at the meeting that I was ONLY available after 4 p.m., that has not deterred the vast majority from knocking on the door starting before 7 a.m. And what do they want? Oh, it varies.
Some “couldn’t make it” to the meeting and wanted to know what it was about, even though I had a sign posted on the door with the main points covered. Of course, to be fair, a good percentage of property owners are illiterate, so the sign doesn’t help them figure things out, so I need to go through what we covered several times a day for those folks. However, the other percentage are just too lazy to read the sign.
Then, several came to pick up their new certificates. Remember, we’re trying to determine ownership of as close to 100% of the properties as possible. That meant I compiled a list of possible owners and posted it on my door, at my sister-in-law’s tortilla shop in town, and on the mesquite by the road. I also read off the list during the meetings we’ve had and asked anyone who knows these individuals to tell them to come and see me (after 4 p.m., mind you).
Next come those who bought lots some time ago but never got around to registering their ownership. One couple brought folders and folders of papers, and I went through them paper by paper to find the original documents, only to find that none of the certificates had “cedo los derechos a” (I transfer ownership to…), and they needed to go back to the person they bought the lots from to get that written on the documents making the property transfer all nice and legal. When they came back I went through the papers again. This time, I discovered that the original certificate and contract of one of the lots were not the same as the reissued certificate. Apparently, there was some mix-up with certificates, and the originals had been lost, misplaced, or something. The transaction could go through since the most recent certificate had been verified by the current mesa directiva (board of directors), but I took possession of those other certificates since we can’t have excess property certificates floating about.
Then there were those that have everything in order but wanted to double or even triple-check. One elderly man arrived after I had set out on my walk with Cocoa and literally chased me up the hill. I put Cocoa back in the house (he can’t abide anyone) and looked at his documents, which were all in order. I had also reassured him at the last meeting that according to my records (showing him the registry), the two lots were correctly registered to his sons, and he didn’t need to do anything further at this time. Another woman came by to double check she didn’t owe anything. She didn’t. I checked my records. Her lots were registered, and she had already paid the cooperación (voluntary fee) of 250 pesos toward the lawyer’s fees, which is the only fee we’ve levied in 10 years.
Then, there were those who were ready and willing to pay something towards the transactions, projects, and work we were trying to organize. At the last meeting, a motion and vote carrying the motion were made to start making regular deposits towards the water, sewer, and electric projects so that there wouldn’t be a HUGE bill when it came time to start the installation. However, I don’t want all that cash in the house, so the Assocación is going to open a bank account, and people can start depositing funds there.
We haven’t done so yet because #1, we need to ratify the members of the mesa directiva again, and #2, everybody now needs an RFC (tax ID number Registro Federal de Contribuyentes) to open a bank account, and they are a pain in the tuckus to get via SAT ( Servicio de Administración Tributaria). Not only do you need an RFC number, but you need a second document, Constancia de Situación Fiscal, which requires yet another transaction. When I was working at the local elementary school, my boss, who was an accountant, registered me for an RFC. However, I didn’t have the second document. I went to visit her and asked how to get that one, and she explained what I needed to do. I was able to do it online with minimal frustration, and now I’m all good, but the remaining members of the mesa directiva still don’t have theirs.
Anyway, until the bank account is set up, I can’t accept their money. Let’s hope they remain open to contributing when that does happen.
Then there was the neighbor, by far the worst of the bunch. Or maybe it was my reaction to her. She knocked a few minutes before I was scheduled to teach a class. I answered the door. She wanted to know what the last community meeting was about. I told her. I also told her she needed to register her lots. She told me that she didn’t because La Yacata was an ejido, an area designated as common land without a deed. That’s not true. La Yacata is classified as a fraccionamiento privado irregular (a private neighborhood not meeting urbanization requirements) currently, and we’re working towards becoming fully compliant. Then she said she hadn’t registered her lots because there was no registry for La Yacata. That’s not true. I turned in the most current padrón (registry) to Desarrollo Urbano (Urban Planning department) at our last meeting. Then she said she hadn’t registered because there’s been no progress towards urbanization, which is true mostly due to property owners like her. And finally, she said that my husband knows her. That’s another true statement, but it’s irrelevant. She’s from the same little town my husband was born in, and yes, my husband knows her since we’ve tried several times to buy the lot next door from her.
Finally, I had enough. I lost my temper. I had classes to teach, after all. I asked explicitly what she wanted. She wanted to give me her phone number so I could call with updates about the community meetings. I told her she needed to register her lots first. She asked how to do that. I told her she needed to bring all her original documents to me. I’m pretty sure I was trembling with rage at this point. She said there was no reason for me to be pissed off and left. It’s very doubtful that she’ll register her lots. She’s had more than ten years to do so. She’s been told several times over the years that it’s necessary, so claiming ignorance isn’t going to cut it with me.
I told Super Prez about this last interaction, and he said we need to set a deadline for lot registration and move on to the next item. So that’s a proposal that we will bring to the next meeting. The issue that will arise for those who have not registered their lots is there will be no escrituras (individual deeds) unless and until everything is in order. Those that have everything in order will be able to pick up their escrituras with no delay when the time comes. It’s like a game of legal chicken–who’s going to cave first?
Meanwhile, they keep knocking on the front door, whistling perched on their motos in front of the house, or shouting through the front window, “¿No está la Maestra?” (Is the teacher here?), which upset Bear and Cocoa enormously. When I’m teaching a class, their frenzied barking at the intruders means I need to mute my microphone and hope they calm down soon. And if I get fired because of these constant interruptions, well, I’m not going to be happy about that.
One random Sunday in September, my husband comes in and says there’s a community meeting starting. Color me pink, but I couldn’t figure out how that happened since I’m on the mesa directiva (board of directors) of La Yacata, and I hadn’t called junta (meeting).
So I put on my shoes, stop what I’m working on, and head out only to find the meeting has moved from down the road under the mesquite, which is the normal location, to RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE.
I asked who arranged the meeting. Someone says it was on the radio, so here they were. And I’m like, well, since you have gathered together, let me give you a quick update on what’s going on.
La Yacata is lovely after the rains.
A month or so previously, Desarollo Urbano (the town planning committee) requested our presence for a meeting in the presidencia (town hall). I don’t know what happened to our invitation, but it arrived just 24 hours prior to the meeting. It would not be in our best interest to miss this meeting, as all government summons are taken with the utmost seriousness. Super Prez found me on WhatsApp, and I ran my butt on my moto over to where the secretary lives to see if he’d be able to make the meeting as well.
I passed Rigo, one of the vocales (understudy of a sort), sitting on a bench drinking at the entrance of La Yacata, and mentioned the meeting to him. He said he couldn’t make it as he had another meeting at the courthouse. Ok, whatever.
At 9 a.m. the next day, Super Prez, the secretary, and myself meet up in the atrium of the presidencia (town hall). We marched our badass selves to the Desarollo Urbano office only to find that the director in charge had forgotten about our meeting and was in the midst of some other very important activity. So we stood cooling our heels for nearly an hour and a half.
While we waited, the dude that had been sitting next to Rigo drinking showed up in his partly buttoned shirt and huge sombrero. He hadn’t been specifically invited to our little party, but it seems that Rigo had sent him as his stand-in. Ok, whatever.
La presidencia de Moroleon (town hall)
Finally, we were able to see the director, and he explained that the presidencia was attempting to regularizar (put in order) any fraccionamientos (neighborhoods) that pertained to the municipio (which is Moroleón). Super Prez gave him a general run down of what urbanization La Yacata had (nothing that worked) and the general apathy of the colonos (residents). He asked that we turn in some paperwork so that he could see where we stood legally and maybe give us some options on how to obtain those vital servicios (utilities).
First was a copy of the acta constitutiva, which is a document that was drawn up when the Associacion de La Yacata was formed. Super Prez, as the son of the original owner, had this. Then he asked for the registered members of la mesa directiva (board of directors). This committee is determined by popular vote at an assembly of residents. Super Prez, the secretary, and I (along with 3 understudies called vocales) were “elected” as it were about 10 years ago. Nobody else has wanted to step up and challenge us until now. And it’s not like we LIKE what we do. We don’t get paid. We’ve had to appear in court when La Yacata was sued (3 times). And it’s generally a hassle. Anyway, this document listing our positions needs to be renewed, so we couldn’t turn that in.
He also asked for the topographic plans, which we had, thanks to Super Prez, but he’d had to bring them back later as he didn’t have the plans with him. With that, the director said he’d be in touch, and we left.
Back to the impromptu meeting…I shared this information in condensed form with those who had gathered at my door. Then, a slight man with glasses began to speak. He said that we needed to renew the activa constitutiva because it had expired. To do this, we could head to Morelia, which is in Michoacán, get it done, pay 8000 pesos, and then pay the 2000 pesos fine to register it in the state of Guanajuato, which is where La Yacata is located.
Then he said we needed 5 people to form a mesa directiva. Remember, it’s not like I love being a member of the board, but to be informed like that that I was to be ousted by this guy, well, it was a little surprising.
Some of the more vocal attendees began with how they wanted to see progress and the current mesa directiva has done nothing and blah blah blah. Profe Juan, who had briefly held the position of association president before renouncing in a huff, pointed out that the problem was with the colonos, not the mesa directiva. True dat. We had done everything we could to protect the properties owned by the colonos and when we provided an estimate on how much it would cost to install the utilities, the assembled said they weren’t interested.
I was pretty incensed at this point, and my Spanish went right out the window, I’m sure. After all we’d done, how could they possibly say we’d done nothing? One lady with an infant started in how she didn’t know what was going on because we hadn’t had a meeting, and I got up in her face about how if she’d registered her lots when she bought them like she was supposed to, I’d have explained all this. Perhaps not my finest moment.
Then the horse guy started in on more of the same, how there’s no progress. And I got huffy and said that if certain people, like himself, would pay the fees for certain obligations we had as a community, perhaps things would be different. As the treasurer, I know exactly who has paid and who scampers off when it’s time to dig deep and hand over cash.
This woman then said it wasn’t important who paid and who didn’t. I begged to differ and said so. It showed what type of person you were, whether you were a responsible member of the association or not.
Later, when I told my friend that I screamed at this lady with a baby, she said I was supposed to kiss the babies, not yell at their moms. Oops! Guess I’m not politically savvy here–again, not that I ever wanted this position. I believe I’ve mentioned that.
Anyway, the slight man with glasses said we needed to have another meeting. They picked the date and time, and I said fine.
After the junta (meeting), I went to talk to this guy for a bit. He was positive the acta constitutiva was up in June of this year since it was constituted in 1993. I said I wasn’t sure of the dates. I told him that we owed the predial (property taxes) for the past 10 years on the community and that we hadn’t finished paying for the demanda (lawsuit). He said that establishing a new acta constitutiva, we aren’t legally responsible for those, but we’d have to change the name of the community. I said currently, the association was registered as La Ayacata. I’m not sure if this was a spelling error or by design, but it was easy enough to become La Yacata dropping the A.
He also said that I needed to have an RFC (Registro Federal de Contribuyentes), which is a tax ID number, more or less to be part of the mesa directiva. I had one and told him that. He seemed surprised, me being a foreigner and all. He said you could only get it by going to Morelia, which again seemed odd to me since it’s another state. My boss at the school I worked for back in the day had done the transaction for me. No trip to Morelia was needed.
At this point, I figured I’d wasted enough time with all this. I asked him to bring a copy of the reglamentos (bylaws) that he was proposing to the next junta (meeting). He felt, as did some of the attendees, that we should start enforcing a multa (fine) for those who didn’t come to the community meetings and that for those who didn’t want to pay the cooperaciones (community fees), the association should seize their lots.
These seemed troubling to me as the majority of the owners were older females who eeked out a meager existence selling tortillas or buñuelos in town. It was a hardship for them to close their stands for the day and come out to La Yacata just to hear blowhards tooting their own horns. It also didn’t seem right to repossess a lot that had been duly paid for, undoubtedly with blood, sweat, and tears, because they didn’t have the funds for the next project. So I wanted to see his proposals in writing.
I immediately called Super Prez to tell him about this attempt at insurrection. As the acting president, it was his decision to convocar (convoke) a community meeting, and he hadn’t been consulted. I tried to explain what was going on, but I was a bit upset and probably not too clear.
I asked when I could stop by to talk to him in person, and we set up a time that worked for both of us. I also sent him an email with all the information gleaned from this hostile gathering.
Surviving Mexico 