https://www.proceso.com.mx/568343/tlahuelilpan-cuando-la-ordena-de-ductos-transformo-a-un-pueblo-de-agricultores said:
---using google traductor
Tlahuelilpan: when the milking of pipelines transformed a town of farmers
The explosion of a clandestine takeover in Tlahuelilpan, a town of farmers who grow alfalfa and other products, reveals the magnitude of the huachicoleo phenomenon, tolerated for years by the authorities of the three levels. Process toured the area affected, where the reporter Mathieu Tourliere counted 54 charred bodies the early morning of Saturday 20, when people overflowed and began to look for their relatives. Hours later the official death toll would reach 66. In the testimonies gathered the locals refer how years ago the milking of pipelines transformed the peaceful community that now mourns its relatives.
TLAHUELILPAN, Hgo. (Proceso) .- Through the light projected by a reflector, the rigid silhouettes of calcined bodies are drawn on a charred earth. They are watered and in dissimilar positions: one was left upside down, with arms in the air, his hands like claws and his face with a grimace of pain.
It's 2:00 in the morning on Saturday 19. Seven hours before, the place looked like a party: hundreds of men and women, many of them accompanied by children, were piled up under a gasoline geyser more than 10 meters high ejected from an open clandestine takeover in the Tuxpan to Tula pipeline. Dozens of locals collected the fuel with buckets and drums before the impassive gaze of soldiers.
"People overflowed; there was euphoria to fill drums, "admitted the Governor of Hidalgo, Omar Fayad Meneses.
At 6:56 p.m. the euphoria turned to panic. The fuel caught fire and a terrifying flame transformed the cornfield into hell. Men and women ran torched like torches, screaming in pain; others wallowed in the grass and the earth to appease the flames, helped by neighbors who were not hit by fire. Authorities said there were 21 dead instantly and that 71 others were burned to varying degrees. Fifty were reported as missing.
At dawn on Saturday 19, on the ground, the reporter Mathieu Tourliere counted 54 charred bodies. They were watered around the clandestine outlet. With the advance of the hours the number of deaths would reach 66.
Tlahuelilpan is located 124 kilometers north of Mexico City, seven kilometers from Arco Norte and only 15 kilometers from Tula, Hidalgo.
Half of the population is engaged in agriculture. They grow alfalfa - almost 50% of the arable land goes to that legume - as well as corn, chili, pumpkin, tomato, tomato and beans. Another 35% work in nearby companies, such as the Tula Refinery and Thermoelectric; 10% is dedicated to small-scale trade.
In 1974, Petróleos Mexicanos signed agreements with the municipality's farmers to allow the pipelines that transport fuels to pass under their lands. The villagers knew that the yellow signs of "not digging, not building, not drilling" were risk areas, but two years ago they became the guide for drilling and extracting hydrocarbons from the pipelines.
Before, trucks loaded with alfalfa bales, fresh or dried, were circulating on the roads. For about two years, these trucks have hidden containers of gasoline. The sale of plastic jugs and jerry cans in the tianguis on Tuesdays and in the makeshift shops at the foot of the road also shot up.
In a population with precarious income, this illegal activity reactivated the economy of the area.
The vehicle park also grew in Tlahuelilpan, as well as in the neighboring municipalities of Tezontepec, Tlaxcoapan and Tula. The cheap fuel allowed to have more cars. Today Tlahuelilpan suffers from vehicular congestion.
In Tezontepec began to face rival groups that come to load gasoline. The deaths were extended as they were involved in the plundering of people in poverty, who suddenly found themselves with trucks and money.
In just two years, a modest employee dressed in orange uniform who usually travels by truck to work at the Tula Refinery can earn so much money that he can remodel his home and buy a vehicle of the year.
In the last six months, shootings have been heard in the streets of the neighborhoods near Tlahuelilpan. In Cerro de la Cruz, police officers who tried to secure clandestine deposits were beaten twice.
The owners of the fields of cultivation began to observe among their plots women and men with cell phones and dresses in a way unsuitable for agricultural work.
"They are hawks and do not do anything to those who already know us," says a farmer who every week runs his plot in the fields of Tezontepec, where he crosses another of the pipelines that goes from Tula to Salamanca.
In parallel, a wave of workers from Tamaulipas and Veracruz arrived in the area to work at the Miguel Hidalgo Refinery, located six kilometers from Tula, very close to Tlahuelilpan. Many of these employees, who live in privileged conditions, help to open the clandestine takes.
In Tlahuelilpan - a conflictive municipality, according to the villagers - the crimes of car theft and houses began to decline, as the criminals changed their way: today they are dedicated to the theft of fuel.
The huachicoleros of the region sell gasoline up to five pesos a liter. First they offered it discreetly, but in mid-2018 they opened their homes to sell the fuel. (average gas price is +- $20 pesos=+-$1 dollar)
On August 18, 2015 there was a leak in one of the Pemex pipelines that pass through the municipality. Local authorities evicted a sector of the population and housed it in the municipal auditorium.
On May 17, 2017, the first major leak in the pipeline that goes from Tuxpan to Tula, near the place that today mourns Tlahuelilpan, was registered. The fuel ran through some of the blackwater canals that irrigate the crops in the area.
That day also people threw themselves into the channels to take away the gasoline that floated on the water. The farmers, who started buying cheap fuel for their cars, made large lines at the edge of the canal.
Last year, this community faced five leaks of gasoline and three fires in the pipelines. In one of them, Ángel Barañano, director of Civil Protection of the municipality, saved the lives of the locals and became a hero.
The inhabitants do not know if there is a safety protocol in case of fuel leakage, drills or information about it.
Guadalupe López Aguilar lives about 100 meters from the pipeline. On the afternoon of Friday the 18th, dozens of people with jerry cans, jugs and bottles passed through the street. In the distance I saw the geyser spitting gasoline 10 meters high.
"It was an old shot," he says. Point your finger at the distance and say: "There is one here, another there, another beyond."
A neighbor who asks to omit his name agrees: "That shot was two years old, but half a year ago the problem became more acute; all knew of its existence: the municipal, state and even the military authorities. Why did not they do anything?
He and Mrs. Guadalupe remember that a group of soldiers guarded the area at the time when the population looted the fuel.
"Why did not they tell them there was a risk, that they should not enter? Right now the federal government comes and pure show, "says the neighbor.
Mrs. Guadalupe deplores: "This could be avoided."
The soldiers who are part of the security fence in the area walk with their weapons down. "Yes we were when the gasoline came out and the people arrived, but they (the huachicoleros) have a strategy: they send the women and children ahead and we can not do anything," says one of the soldiers.
At 00:45 hours on Saturday 19 President Andrés Manuel López Obrador arrived in the area of the tragedy. With a stern expression, he quickly entered the Colegio de Bachilleres de Tlahuelilpan, where he joined the members of his cabinet.
- Does the strategy change? Someone asked.
-No, it does not change ... On the contrary. This unfortunately shows that we must end this practice that led to this tragedy.
He added: "It is not just this municipality or this state. It is a practice that has become widespread; People have not had alternatives. We are going to give him opportunities so that they are not forced to take this risky path. "
And he promised: "There will be more vigilance and attention."
It is the same dawn and hundreds of people, desperate and anxious, break the fence of the military and enter the place of tragedy. They walk on the scorched earth. When they see a body, they light it with their cell phones. Distressed, they look for their relatives and acquaintances.
There is a piercing cry. A woman has just identified the body of her son, lying a few meters away from the clandestine outlet. The neighbors are silent in solidarity. Mourning is collective.
This report was published in the 2203 edition of the magazine Proceso, which has already begun to circulate.