Signs of Mexico’s Inequities Know No Borders

Few places appear more removed from the rough-and-tumble of Mexican politics than the charming town of Cambria, a hideaway nestled among the pines on California’s Central Coast. But for my cousins visiting last week from Mexico City, a tranquil overnight stay offered no getaway from problems that are provoking a political upheaval in their homeland.

Reminders of Mexico’s economic hardships lay just beneath the comfort and prosperity in the secluded tourist village. Behind Cambria’s quaint, all-American exteriors--the Victorian bed-and-breakfasts, the fanciful gift shops, the gourmet restaurants--lurked the symptoms of social inequities in the country I come from.

Immigrants were everywhere, floating softly through the town like courteous ghosts trying not to disturb their hosts. We first spotted a trio of Mexican laborers, with their typical farm-worker hats, walking shoulder-to-shoulder past our idyllic creek-side inn. They had that steady, patient gait of people who get around on foot.

“I know where these men come from, and what it must mean for them to be here, totally out of sight, totally foreign to the landscape,” said Alberto Ortega Venzor, husband of my cousin, Margarita Gurza Tumoine. “And to see these Mexicans pass by in such rich and sophisticated surroundings sends your heart into a terrible tumble.”

“It is heartbreaking,” added Margarita. “Over there, they haven’t been able to find their place in society, and much less here.”

For Alberto and Margarita, these aren’t just traveler’s observations. They are issues of poverty and lack of opportunity that are at the core of Mexico’s presidential politics. And from now until election day in July, my cousins will be at the center of a campaign to wrest the presidency from the ruling party.

Alberto works for the leading opposition candidate, Vicente Fox of the center-right National Action Party, or PAN. While Fox was governor of Guanajuato, a post he had to resign to run for president, Alberto served as the governor’s field representative in Mexico City. Soon, he’ll join the Fox campaign full time.

The Gurzas for years have been heavily involved in PAN politics in Mexico, especially in my hometown of Torreon. My relatives were party pioneers at a time when opposition politics was a cry in the wilderness. Today, Mexico has come to a crucial democratic crossroads, with other parties poised to take power for the first time since the Depression.

Though proud of my family’s courage, I always considered the PAN too Catholic and too conservative for my political palate. My cousins’ visit, however, made me reconsider my impression of their party as a GOP wannabe.

“We have a social vision that the Republicans don’t have,” Alberto told me over a breakfast of waffles and strawberries. “The Republicans never talk about the just distribution of wealth. We do.”

In the United States, few politicians of any stripe talk about respect for the rights of immigrants. In Mexico, the PAN proposes policies to protect the interests of its citizens in the United States. It supports absentee voting in Mexican elections, a move blocked by PRI leaders fearful of an immigrant backlash, and it calls for a bilateral body to resolve human rights violations in both countries. The PAN even advocates the free movement of Mexican workers across the border, said Alberto, who is helping write the international planks of the party platform.

Before our journey up the coast, we had made a stop at the beach-side Venice home of Raul Hinojosa Ojeda, a UCLA public policy expert who was pleased with PAN’s defense of immigrants and their labor rights. Alberto is seeking contacts with academics like Hinojosa, who’s drafting a policy paper for the Gore campaign.

The informal meeting of these two men--my gray-haired cousin in his blue blazer and the sun-tanned researcher in his tropical shirt and shorts--reflected the talk of an alliance between the right and left in Mexico. If they split the opposition vote, the ruling PRI might win.

Over dinner in Cambria, with soft piano music in the background, Alberto revealed his party’s campaign slogan: “Mexico Must Change, Now or Never.”

Later, as we strolled back to our lovely lodgings, we came across a young, dynamic Mexican in a corner market. We discovered he was from Jalisco--and that he had cooked our almond-caked cod and tender pot roast. Soon, the cook’s cousin and co-worker rode up stealthily on his bicycle. In the dining room, with its brick fireplace and genteel country atmosphere, there had been no sign of Mexican workers back in the kitchen.

“When you see these paisanos on the street,” said Alberto, “you reaffirm your commitment to bring change to Mexico, and you know you can’t hide from it.”

Agustin Gurza’s column appears Tuesday. Readers can reach Gurza at (714) 966-7712 or agustin.gurza@latimes.com