IN THE MAGAZINE

MEXICAN RASHES - PART 2 Contraband, Commerce, and Art in One of Mexico’s Most Overcrowded Prisons BY ANTONIO VEGA MACOTELA, AS TOLD TO GABRIELLA GÓMEZ-MONT In exchange for my visiting Chucho’s little brother and listening to him play and sing in his studio (as Chucho used to do), Chucho drew a symbol to mark each of his breaths during the hour that his brother and I were together.

After becoming friends with some inmates, I proposed a deal to them. I would use an agreed-upon amount of my time to perform tasks for them out in the world at a specific day and hour. At the same time they would do whatever I asked them to do as an artist. Neither of us would be wasting time. Instead, we would be exchanging it. What they usually want me to do is to literally take their place in the outside world. I’ve visited the tombs of their brothers and said a few words. I’ve asked their fathers for forgiveness. I’ve gone dancing with their mothers. I’ve met their sons and acted as their father for a day. I’ve read a letter out loud to a dying relative in the hospital. One prisoner even asked me to go to his girlfriend’s house and watch her masturbate so that I could describe the scene for him, bit by bit.

Since the body is our only real, subjective way of measuring time, usually what I ask for in exchange is for measurements of time using their body. So I tell them, “You want me to go cook for your family? OK. Then you will hold your hand to your neck for three hours and make a scribble on a piece of paper for each heartbeat that you feel. You are going to give me all of your heartbeats for these three hours.” Since we perform our tasks at the same time, a really weird and strong connection gets made between the two of us. I usually do five of these exchanges per week nowadays. They become me and I become them, for a little while.

Some of the inmates teach me their particular “skills” in exchange for my time. One of them, in trade for teaching his daughter to read, showed me how to kill someone with a shoelace. Basically, all you have to do is hold the shoelace in such a way that when you shake someone’s hand, his index finger gets caught in a little noose. Then you pull sharply, he loses his balance, and you twist the shoelace around his neck and pull as hard as you can. The prisoner who showed me this technique is a really tiny guy, but he can do it in one swift move. It’s crazy to watch, almost like a magic trick. He used to be a locksmith, and he says he has invented a lock that not even he can break into. He asked me to help him patent it, so I am researching patent laws for him next week.

This project has taken me to some of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Mexico City. It’s weird, but I believe that this idea of taking their place, of being them for a few hours, actually serves as some kind of strange protection from harm when I am on their errands. Even families composed solely of really dangerous thugs treat me with the utmost respect and warmth. It is really as if for a few hours I represent their relative for them. Once a prisoner asked me to go see his son’s grades and ask him how he was doing in school. His family had stopped visiting him for quite a few years—he was a really tough character and I couldn’t completely blame them. So I went, saw the kid’s grades and talked to his family for a few hours. My visit seemed to have touched some type of nerve, because the next week his family started visiting him again.

I am not allowed into the women’s jail anymore, but I must say I was relieved when that happened. It is even harder to take than the men’s, believe it or not. So damn depressing. By law, all children under six must stay in jail with their mothers, so there are six-year-old kids in there that were born in jail and do not know the outside world. An unnaturally strong bond forms between them and their mothers because of the conditions and then, suddenly, they are taken away from their mothers the day after they turn seven. There are also so many women who have not received visitors in the last ten years. I read a statistic recently that stated that out of the 1,500 women in Santa Martha, only 79 of them have outside partners who signed up for conjugal visiting rights. When men get put into jail they become like children for their families; when women get put into jail they become phantoms. They are denied and then forgotten. The social stigma is a lot worse for them. They usually become really hard and aggressive in jail. They have to.


Men usually ask me for favors related to their friends and family, whereas women would usually ask for favors dealing with faith, like asking me to crawl on my knees inside the Basílica de Guadalupe (one of the most revered churches in Mexico) to do penance on their behalf and pray for them, or to go leave flowers at the Santa Muerte’s altar. It is as if they were looking for hope beyond the human realm, because the human realm is no longer within their reach.

It was the prisoners who came up with the idea for the object series. One day some of them came up to me and said, “OK, Macotela, look. If art is—as you say it is—the modification of daily life, or the modification of objects and acts to give them new meanings, then we have a question for you: Don’t you think that survival in here can be art too? Because here we take normal objects and give them new meaning.” In jail, the handle of a bucket stops being the handle of a bucket and becomes a weapon, which becomes power. A brick plus a few loose wires becomes an electric stove, a piece of a windowsill gets turned into a knife. So they proposed that these survival technologies become their art, and that one of the things that I would do for them would be to sell these art pieces on their behalf in the outside world. That is what we are starting to do now, and they recently even formed an art collective: They call themselves the Rashes, from “rash,” the English word, saying that they are like the tiny skin-colored bugs on cows that create huge rashes all over and are also very hard to kill. They are both really visible and terribly invisible, at once. I laughed so much when they told me that was what they would call themselves.


TO BE CONTINUED
MEXICAN RASHES | 1 | 2 | 3 |

See all articles by this contributor

Comments

Anonymous, on Jul 9, 2009 wrote: Time is truly the essence. The closer you look at it, the harder it is to see. The only thing I would like to see added to this wonderful project is something about the non-visual sense of time. How does smell measure time? What does your skin feel like after a day in a cell? Does taste have a daily cycle, an annual rhythm? Where can I go to see your work exhibited? Where can I buy it?
Anonymous, on Nov 18, 2008 wrote: pinche putos
Anonymous, on Jul 18, 2008 wrote: I found this article really interesting. At the very least it certainly beings our attention to issues of overcrowding in prisons. I love the way it’s written and the way it sort of re-humanizes the inmates. The comment made by one of the inmates about the art of simply existing in the prison made me see the homemade implements in a different way- they almost look like artifacts from a primitive time when people were just trying to survive.
Anonymous, on Jul 6, 2008 wrote: ummm not only does Mexico suck but this article found a way to be even more retarded than a country full of half twits in sombreros. Not only is this vaguely homo erotic, cliche Marxist nonsense, but it is of absolutely no social value. You know how I know time has passed, because I regret reading this horse crap.
Anonymous, on Jun 30, 2008 wrote: it seems like the last four comments were all written by the same person... same style of typing and same general idea in the posts.... but whatever. really cool article though. particularly the final page, and seeing the inventiveness of prisoners.
Anonymous, on Jun 27, 2008 wrote: Yeah I second third fourth the motion that this is the best "avant gardish" art project I have ever read about in Vice or any other publication. Full on smart, and has such a value to society. These days I think Mexico needs more brave souls like this dude. Congrats for bringing a great country that has gone down the tubes back somewhat closer to a civilized society.
Anonymous, on Jun 26, 2008 wrote: Aw I want to marry him.
Anonymous, on Jun 26, 2008 wrote: Wow! What an interesting discourse on time and relativity. This art project was well thought out and the article was beautifully written, challenging my intellect and speaking directly to my soul. There is a wealth of revelation knowledge to be found here and the author’s work borderlines genius. I look forward to reading more from him in the future.
Anonymous, on Jun 26, 2008 wrote: I absolutely loved the article. Everything about it was just awesome. The stories, the art, the experiences, the honesty about it, just captures it. Congratulations, viva mexico!
Anonymous, on Jun 25, 2008 wrote: This has got to be one of the better articles I’ve seen in Vice for a while... vice has been lacking in this kind of stuff a little bit. Bring more :)
Anonymous, on Jun 24, 2008 wrote: who gives a fuck if you cant see them you douche bags. Try staying in jail for 7 hours and keepin’ them cheeks tight ladies. you CANT cover that scar with a sharpie now can you? TYPO!!!! Dont kick my ass
Anonymous, on Jun 24, 2008 wrote: who gives a fuck if you cant see them you douche bags. Try staying in jail for 7 hours and keepin’ them cheeks tight ladies. you can cover that scar with a sharpie now can you?
	bonerdreamz69, on Jun 24, 2008 wrote: I think the scars may be difficult to see because he has written all over them.
Anonymous, on Jun 24, 2008 wrote: what scars? pssssh, fell off the swings?