HERE’S SOMETHING about Mexico you don’t know if you don’t live here: Our nation’s in a building frenzy. You can hardly drive an urban mile without passing numerous construction projects. You’ll see them on rural miles too.
These can be small, medium or large in scale. Businesses that sell construction materials are ubiquitous.* Trucks carrying material down the road from Point A to Point B are an hourly sight. Cement, rebar, bricks, you name it.
We never stop building here — or renovating.
(We’re even taking steps to legalize marijuana, and that would be lousy for the narcos and great for the rest of us.)
Construction labor is inexpensive. Compared to the United States, it’s incredibly cheap. I like this, of course.
A man who builds things here is called an albañil. It’s invariably a man. I’ve yet to spot a female albañil.
Mexico knows men and women differ.
A Spanish-English dictionary often defines albañil as bricklayer, but a good albañil does far more than lay bricks. A great albañil is a magician. He can build anything.
Barry Obama, the Mohammedan sympathizer and half-white Hawaiian-Indonesian, would not be able to look an albañil in the eye and say, “You did not build that” because the albañil would have built it, and built it quite well.
(Yes, I can inject politics anywhere.)
Unlike tradesmen in the United States and teachers in Mexico, albañiles are not unionized. You never encounter them blocking highways because they are out of sorts.
The lack of trade unions is a big reason you can get work done at a very good price south of the Rio Bravo.
Many, perhaps most, get into the profession as children, helping relatives. An albañil now working at the Hacienda began when he was 13. Now 40, he’s remarkably talented.
Perhaps the narcos who find themselves without income due to drug legalization will put down their M16s and turn to honest construction work. There’s lots to be done.
Mexico is on the move.
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* I rarely use two-dollar words, but sometimes it’s fun.