Title Wendy Lewis only

Josh Kun & Fiamma montezemolo, eds. with a Foreword by iain chambers tiJuana dreaming Life and Art at the Global Border Tijuana Dreaming Life and Art at the Global Border edited by josh kun and fiamma montezemolowith a foreword by iain chambers Duke University Press Durham & London 2012 © 2012 Duke University Press All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America on acid- free paper ∞ Designed by Jennifer Hill Typeset in Quadraat by Westchester Book Group Library of Congress Cataloging- in- Publication Data appear on the last printed page of this book.

Duke University Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the Duke University Center for International Studies’ Globalization and the Artist Project, which provided funds toward the production of this book. Contents vii A c k n o w l e d g m e n t s ix Foreword | A Line in the Sand Iain Chambers 1 Introduction | The Factor y of Dreams Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 21 One | Welcome Tu Tijuana Roberto Castillo 25 Two | Snapshots from and about a Cit y Named Tijuana Humberto Fé lix Berumen 47 Three | Tijuanologies | An Urban Essay Heriberto Yépez 71 Four | Globalization in Tijuana Maquiladoras | Using Historical Antecedents and Migration to Test Globalization Models Kathryn Kopinak 94 Five | (Conversation with) Néstor García Canclini, on How Tijuana Ceased to Be the Laborator y of Postmodernit y Fiamma Montezemolo 117 Six | Postcards from the Border | In Tijuana, Revolución Is an Avenue Sant i a go Va qu e ra- Vá s qu e z 136 Seven | Illicit Acts of Urbanism René Peralta 148 Eight | The Transborder Metropolis in Question | The Case of Tijuana and San Diego Tito Alegría 175 Nine | Practices of Encroachment | Urban Waste Moves Southbound; Illegal Zoning Seeps into Nor th Teddy Cruz contents vi 190 Ten | Communit y of Struggle | Gender, Violence, and Re sis tance on the U.S.- Mexico Border Michelle Té lle z 212 Eleven | La Canción de Tijuana / The Song of Tijuana Guillermo Fadanelli 219 Twelve | ¿Todos somos ciudadanos? | Ar tistic Production and Agency in Tijuana Lucía Sanromán 240 Thirteen | Bioethnography of an Artist | Ingrid Hernández Fiamma Montezemolo 264 Fourteen | Borderline Archaeolog y Je sse Lerner 277 Fifteen | Redeﬁ ning Sodom | A Latter- Day Vision of Tijuana Jennifer Insley- Pruit t 300 Sixteen | Crossfader Playlist Rafa Saavedra 329 Seventeen | Counterculture, Rockers, Punks, New Romantics, and Mods in Tijuana Ejival 339 Eigh teen | Borderline Ghosts | From Touch of Evil to Maquilapolis: City of Factories Tare k Elhaik 355 Nineteen | The Kidnapped Cit y Josh Kun 370 Twenty | The Line Luis Humberto Crosthwaite 375 Contributors 381 Index Ac know ledg ments W e would like to thank all of the contributors for sharing their work with this collection and for their patience and diligence in helping us make it a realit y. All translations were done by John Pluecker, except for “The Line,” which was translated by Cecilia Bastida, and “Countercul- ture, Rockers, Punks, New Romantics, and Mods in Tijuana,” which was translated by John Farrell. Special thanks are due to Inna Arzumanova of the usc Annen- berg School for Communication and Journalism for overseeing the chief or gan i za tion al and administrative tasks required in preparing the volume for publication. Fiamma Montezemolo wishes to thank the Transart Foundation for the grant that allowed her to complete her conversation with Nés- tor García Canclini in Chapter 5. Because this volume collects new and previously published work into a single collection for the ﬁ rst time, a number of these essays have had previous lives elsewhere and are reprinted here by permission: Fi- amma Montezemolo, “Tijuana: Hybridit y and Beyond: A Conversat ion with Néstor García Canclini,” in Third Text 23:6 (20 09), 733– 50; Guillermo Fadanelli, “La Cancion de Tijuana,” in Revista Nexos no.

359 (Mexico Cit y, November 2007); Ejival, “Counterculture, Rocks, Punks, New Romantics, and Mods in Tijuana,” in Strange New World:

Art and Design from Tijuana / Extrano Nuevo Mundo: Arte y Diseno Desde Ti- juana , ed. Rachel Tea gle (Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego, 2006); Jennifer Insley, “Redeﬁ ning Sodom: A Latter- Day Vision of Ti- juana,” in Me xican Studies / Estudios Me xicanos 20:1 (Berkeley: Universit y of California Press, 2004), 99– 121; Jesse Lerner, “Borderline Archeol- og y,” in Cabinet: A Quarterly of Art and Culture 13 (New York: Immaterial Incorporated, 2004), 33– 35; Santiago Vaquera, “Postcards from the Border: In Tijuana, Revolución Is an Avenue,” in Border Transits: Litera- ture and Culture across the Line , ed. Ana M. Manzanas (Amsterdam:

Rodopi Press, 2007); Kathr yn Kopinak, “Globalization in Tijuana Ma- quiladoras: Using Historical Antecedents and Migration to Test Glo- balization Models,” in Papeles de Población 9:37 (Centro de Investig- ación y Estudios Avanzados de la Población [ cieap], at t he Un i ver sid ad acknowledgments viii Autónoma del Estado de México, Toluca, 2003), 219– 42; Michelle Téllez, “Communit y of Struggle: Gender, Violence, and Re sis tance on the US- Mexico Border,” in Gender and Society 22 (October 2008); and Luis Humberto Cros- thwaite, “La Línea,” in Instrucciones Para Cruzar La Frontera (Joaquin Mortiz, 2003). The following were ﬁ rst published in Spanish and have been translated for this volume by permission of the authors: Heriberto Yépez, Tijuanologías (Mex- ico: Umbral- Universidad Autonoma de Baja California Press, 2006); Roberto Castillo Udiarte, Elamoroso guaguaguá (Tijuana: UIA / El Día Ediciones, 2002); Tito Alegría Olazábal, “¿Existen las metrópolis transfronterizas? El caso de Ti- juana / San Diego,” in Ciudades en la frontera, ed. Haroldo Dilla (Santo Domingo:

Editorial Manatí, 2008), 127– 65; and Rafa Saavedra, “Crossfader Playlist.” Foreword Iain Chambers A Line in the Sand For the phenomena that interest me are precisely those that blur these bound- aries, cross them, and make their historical ar tiﬁ ce appear, also their violence, meaning the relations of force that are concentrated there and actually capi- talize themselves there interminably. — jacques derrida, Monolingualism of the Other; or, The Prosthesis of Origin B ack in the days of modern nation building and the accompanying outreach of empire, many lines were drawn in the sand. Invariably straight as a die, oblivious of the social and natural ecologies on the ground, frontiers, borders, and distinctions were drawn up on maps in the Foreign Ofﬁ ces and State Departments of London, Paris, Ber- lin, and Washington. Much of today’s world is witness to the physical and cultural violence of these abstract divisions unilaterally estab- lished in distant metropoles. Look at the map. Once out of Eu rope and the Northern Hemi sphere, the modern invention of nation and border is mirrored in straight lines running all over Africa and the Middle East (in Asia older inheritances often deviated that logic).

This, too, was the case with the frontier established in Southern Cali- fornia drawn bet ween the United States and Mexico. It runs bet ween the conﬂ uence of the Gila and Colorado rivers and the Paciﬁ c, and was established after Mexico’s defeat and the subsequent treat y of Guadalupe Hidalgo in 1848. The treat y registered the appropriation of 1.36 million square kilometers of territor y by t he aggressive nort h- ern, slave- owning, imperial neighbor. While the U.S. Army occupied Mexico Cit y, La Inter vención Norteamericana led to the incorpora- tion of what is today the southwestern United States: New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona, Nevada, Utah, Wyoming, California. Acts of violence, invariably sanctiﬁ ed by “law,” establish a place, give it a name, and sanctif y its authorit y. In all of these cases, the colonial cut has produced a postcolonial wound. While the Euro- American “winners” who wrote the histor y of these events (Walter Benjamin) remain self- assured in their po liti cal and cultural authorit y foreword x to deﬁ ne and explain subsequent developments, the “losers,” the defeated, the subaltern, ﬁ nd themselves invariably operating within spaces and languages they had rarely chosen. If, according to Heidegger, space acquires signiﬁ cance only when it is transformed into a par tic u lar place, both space and place, as Henri Lefebvre argued, are never given but always socially produced. So if from high above the Southern California coastline from Los Angeles to Ti- juana seemingly represents a uniﬁ ed urban sprawl, oblivious to border legisla- tion and national conﬁ nes, close- up we inevitably encounter a very different stor y. Here we discover the power of architecture to carve and articulate the land in a multiplicit y of borders and conﬁ nes. The power of architecture to mold, modif y, and morph a territor y reveals the architecture of power: it is never merely a technical, neutral, or “scientiﬁ c” language.

In border zones, such as t hat bet ween Israel a nd t he Occupied Territories, it promotes a set of social and historical practices that lead to what Eyal Weiz- man calls a “laborator y of the extreme” and a “dynamic morpholog y of the frontier.” The territor y, Weizman continues, is never as ﬂ at as a map, but stri- ated beneath our feet (aquifers, land rights) and above our heads (air corri- dors, electromagnetic waves full of radio signals, cellular phone net works, gps positioning, wide- band computer communications). The situation in the Occupied Territories is exemplary rather than exceptional. Similar procedures scan the Mediterranean, just as they patrol the U.S.- Mexico border. Maps are multiple, simultaneously vertical and horizontal: a three- dimensional matrix.

They produce ﬂ exible, mobile frontiers that sustain invisible lines and shift- ing conﬁ gurations of material and immaterial territor y. So frontiers are not only physical, but also mobile and ﬂ exible instances of authorit y. The classical colonial modalit y of impositions from the center on the peripher y through the direct imposition of a singular power and authorit y now gives way to an alto- gether more diffuse appropriation. This promotes a new conceptual landscape that invites us to consider how the order of power is inscribed, articulated, and becomes in multidimensional space. Borders are violently imposed, are signs of power, but they are also criti- cally and culturally productive. The border is a framing device that gives shape and sense to what it contains, what it seeks to include and exclude. If the border ushers in an instance of the exceptional state— each and ever y one ﬁ nds his or her bio graphical status and citizenship temporally suspended before being reconﬁ rmed (or challenged)— it reveals, in the very intensit y of its biopolitics, the underlying protocols that deﬁ ne and conﬁ ne its own do- mestic population. Borders force us to reconsider the historical, po liti cal, forewordxi and cultural conﬁ gurations that gave rise to their necessit y. They bring back into the picture what they were previously designed to exclude: the defeated, the subaltern, the other; other histories, other territories of belonging and becoming, push up against this seemingly impassable framing. If legally rigid, borders are historically ﬂ uid and socially complex: for some they repre- sent simply stamps on a passport, for others an apparently impossible bar- rier, yet ever y day they continue to be crossed, and hence simultaneously challenged and conﬁ rmed, in both legal and illegal fashion.

In 2000 the Chilean artist Alfredo Jaar staged a fort y- ﬁ ve- minute event on the Mexican- U.S. border at Valle Del Matador (Tijuana– San Diego) titled “The Cloud.” The cloud, composed of hundreds of white balloons, was released to ﬂ oat high up over the fence, imper vious to the 3,000 U.S. Border Patrol agents along the sixt y- six- mile frontier in San Diego Count y, as a tribute to the thou- sands who have lost their lives trying to cross this line in the desert. Music was played both sides of the border, poetr y read, and a moment of silence ob- served. Despite the massive investment in militarized personnel and sophisti- cated surveillance devices in this war zone, the frontier was evoked, mourned, and temporarily punctured. For the frontier, both to those who seek at all costs to maintain it and to those who seek to overcome and subvert its arbi- trar y division, has many dimensions. The blind rigidit y of its bureaucracy is increasingly accompanied by a ﬂ uidit y and ﬂ exibilit y in its application.

To leave familiar territory and cross the frontier is somehow to enter a shadow land where familiar rules come undone. Moving among the un- known, confronting one’s fears and exposure, the frontier crossing is not only that characterized in the northern imagination by existential uncertain- ties and a “touch of evil” south of the border; for the vast majorit y migrating into the north of the world, border crossings are a zone of potential death and subsequently of guaranteed exploitation. If much study and critical writ- ing on border zones has concentrated on these inhuman conditions, it has rarely sought to examine the premises and privileges of its own world in the cruel light of this structural realit y that represents an undeclared war on the poor of the planet. The disciplinary imperative has been precisely that: disci- plinar y. The desire has been to render the unknown transparent to one’s in- tellectual and cultural will. To explain has somehow meant to annul a poten- tial disturbance and bring it all home, rationally reduced to domestic reason and subordinated to one’s view of the world. Yet borders, beyond the obvious installation of authorit y, sur veillance, and control, exist only in the act of being crossed. Borders are brought to life, and acquire their performative power, only when they are traversed, transgressed, and trespassed; in other foreword xii words, they are not simply the sites of the hegemonic power imposing the reach of its law, but also of other, subaltern, subversive, and subterranean pow- ers constantly pushing up against the fence, and sometimes crossing over.

If so many of today’s borders represent postcolonial wounds, una herida abierta (Gloria Anzaldúa) bleeds into the accounting of time and place both sides of the cut. There persists proximit y, even communalit y, often denied, negated, and repressed by those who feel their history is the unique narra- tive, which proposes an unsuspected cartography for traveling into border zones. The so cio log i cal, anthropological, and po liti cal mapping of such con- ﬁ nes invariably fails to chart the full signiﬁ cance of this unauthorized space and associated practices. Beyond po liti cal reasoning, there is a poetics of sound and vision, of music, literature, and the visual arts, that proposes mo- dalities of narrating a multiple modernit y irreducible to the homogeneous attention of border control. The inscription of these other languages on the metropolitan body of modernity propels us into considering the disquieting annihilation of distance— both physical and metaphysical— between worlds once considered different and apart, but now suspended and sustained in a shared planetar y matrix. These are also critical proximities. Such borders do not merely propose casting our attention to the previously abandoned mar- gins of a modernit y unilaterally conceived, those distant conﬁ nes out there in the periphery far from the centers of our concern, but rather, and altogether more radically, invest our very understanding of modernity. Once- separated worlds— the ﬁ rst and the third, the north and the south of the planet, the rich and the poor— now exceed their conﬁ nes.

Moving in circuits that simultaneously lie below and beyond the national frame— those of the visual arts, of local acts that travel in transnational liter- ary and visual languages or in sound— connections and communities are formed. Modernit y is blogged, temporarily caught in a snapshot, faded in and out and pasted together; it is translated and transformed in the transit of local coordinates and conditions. Subsequent versions also travel elsewhere.

Despite the unequal and unjust access to the means of cultural reproduction, each and ever y take leaves a trace, produces a fold, creates an unsuspected intensit y, forms a friction, in a modernit y that is not only ours to manage and deﬁ ne. The once- background “noise” of the “outside” world here becomes an altogether more insistent sound. It acquires sense and shape in a modernit y that branches out in a heterogeneous assemblage. Orchestrated by power, certainly, but those powers are not only those of existing planetary hege- mony. The previously silenced, excluded, negated, and ignored also inhabit this space, proposing their sense of place. forewordxiii Meanwhile, in Tijuana, on the border, in a cit y of at least 1.5 million souls, such abstract concerns acquire life and directions, and with them deviation and drift. The pro cesses are not prescriptive; they refer to practices and po- tential. The violence of modern state formation, the rough justice of border settlements, and the multiple currents and eddies of a hybridizing modernit y are obviously condensed in the conﬁ gurations of this frontier cit y. Of course, but daily textures, the issues and tissues of both politics and poetics, the criss- crossing of global capital, crime and the corruption of power, not only draw Tijuana close to Los Angeles, London, and Tok yo, but transform its presumed “border” condition into an unsuspected critical space that casts its own par tic u lar light into the heart of modernit y itself. In this altogether more ﬂ uid realit y where presumed peripheries and mar- gins propose an urgent centralit y, the border itself reveals its unnerving du- plicit y. Whose border is it? Each side of the conﬁ ne claims it. While El Norte reinforces its authorit y on this space with a multimillion- dollar industr y in surveillance and policing, it is nevertheless still unable to fully contain it or suppress its disquieting phantoms. Not only do drugs and undocumented labor continue to cross its conﬁ nes, but both southern trafﬁ c and border dis- turbance continually interrogate the cage that simultaneously seeks to keep the South out and the North in. The frontier not only creates the ﬁ gure of the foreigner who is excluded, it also constitutes, limits, and deﬁ nes the ver y na- ture of what exists inside the frontier, what lies repressed in the domestic scene. In this ambivalence, all the premises— from patrolling the border to those disciplines that pretend to explain its histories and contemporar y conditions— are exposed to unauthorized questioning. From considerations of Tijuana as a border city we are pushed into think- ing the whole world as a multiplicit y of border zones, traversed by legislation, enforcement, and bureaucracy, and then complicated by the unaccounted his- tories and cultures embodied in the migrancy of unauthorized bodies and cultures. If, most obviously, we encounter this situation and its arbitrar y vio- lence in the southwestern desert of the United States, along the northern edges of the Sahara and on the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, on both sides of the En glish Channel, in the ambivalent territories of Palestine and Kurdistan, be- t ween Asia and Australia in the Timor Sea, it is too easy to forget that these borders also run through the streets, tongues, arrangements, and divisions of ﬁ rst- world cities. The multiethnic populations of Los Angeles, London, and Paris are also researched, proﬁ led, and policed, for even if these populations are certainly resident in the nation they are frequently considered to be not fully part of the nation. The externally exercised biopolitics of yesterday’s colonial foreword xiv administration has not so much disappeared as transmuted into the techno- logically sustained, and hence hypothetically altogether more ﬂ exible, man- agement of the modern po liti cal body of the occidental metropolis. At the same time, ongoing attempts to legislate and control space, to maintain the distinction bet ween inside and outside, is constructed on a mo- bile terrain where categories and deﬁ nitions continually slip into sites of contestation: space is never empt y, it is invariably peopled and folded into multiple and multilateral pro cesses of social becoming. The desire for trans- parency and rational control— by both government authorities and academic disciplines— is always destined to be thwarted, no matter what are the terri- ble short- time consequences in terms of lives and suffering. There exist unregistered tempos and spaces that deviate and befuddle the accountable logic of linear time, of progress and its ideolog y of accumulative productivit y. In the drift across the border of rational management and over the categorical divide, beyond the conceptual limits of prescribed histories, cultures, and identities, there exists a ﬁ esta of multiplicity that challenges the homogeneous accounting of time and space. What is being entertained here is the undoing and dispersal— not the can- cellation —of an earlier conﬁ guration of knowledge, leading, in turn, to the unwinding of the legislative authorit y of the Northern Hemi sphere (the West) as the unique Subject of History. This is to propel thinking into uncharted territor y. To borrow a meta phor from urban geography, it suggests a vast and indeﬁ nite area— like the sprawling urban slums and shant ytowns of Tijuana, Rio, Lagos, Cairo, or Istanbul, peopled by a complex, anonymous, marginal- ized underclass neither recognized as urban nor as rural— which lies bet ween disciplinary deﬁ nitions and other modalities of knowledge. If the former present themselves in terms of an epistemic conﬁ guration that pretends to impose itself universally and hence unilaterally, the latter, as a heterogeneous and unsystematic interrogation of that conﬁ guration, sets a limit, proposing an insistent border that provokes a transit, a transformation, an interrogative elsewhere. In this, Tijuana is profoundly global. While caught in the net of a po liti cal economy that sprawls across continents and seas, where labor is not national but transnational and always shadowed and disciplined by a reserve army of “illegal” immigrants, the net, as the Italian phi los o pher Gianni Vat- timo once pointed out, is also full of holes. Caught in a global calculus, Tijuana also brings to the equation unknown factors. Halting the idea of rhizomatic and intercultural patterns for a mo- ment, we can witness how heterogeneous elements, pro cesses, and ﬂ ows co- alesce in a precise critical instance like Walter Benjamin’s dialectical image forewordxv that ﬂ ares up in a moment of danger: there to register the unanswered ques- tions, the questions that perhaps will never be answered but which continue to haunt our language and understanding. Here it is language itself that pro- vokes a further opening in the net. Torn away from the empirical medium of transparent communication imposed by the Anglophone world, language swells with signiﬁ cation, and border cities, where seemingly different his- torical blocs and cultural conﬁ gurations push up against each other, become overloaded paradigms of an excess of sense. Here the explosion of ethno- graphic detail is decanted into aesthetic inscription. For it is poetics, as the custodian of the excess of language (literar y, visual, sonorial, performative), that most profoundly registers the inscription of time and place. Following the sound, listening to the prose, the poetr y, and the poetical, caught in the visual frame, we are pushed into another space, another “Tijuana,” that is irreducible to so cio log i cal statistics, historical ex- planation, and po liti cal management. The cultural dimension is not here an adjunct or accessor y to the sociohistorical matrix, but is rather a critical ap- paratus in its own right. In its reassembling practices and procedures, art proposes new conditions for receiving the “social,” the “historical,” and the “po liti cal.” The reassembling, as Walter Benjamin pointed out, referring to the task of translation as piecing together the fragments of language, does not arrive at constituting a new totalit y. The fragments are freed from their previous unit y, and are left to ﬁ nd another arrangement.

This is the unsuspected power of language what ever its provenance. It proposes a potentialit y: not only a way of being in the world, but also one of becoming. It is precisely on this cusp that art seeds a po liti cal inheritance with a poetical interruption, drawing out of the folds of time and memor y, other, unsuspected patterns and paths. This is to suggest that we respond and locate ourselves in the arts in terms of a critical conﬁ guration that exceeds the prescribed social location as “art,” “aesthetics,” or “entertain- ment.” A slash across the continuit y of common sense is affected. For we are invariably taught to consider the text, the printed page, the per for mance, particularly of subaltern cultural formations, as the social and cultural mir- ror of realit y (however complicated the reﬂ ection), and hence as a relatively stable object of study and attention. Yet language as literature, as a transfor- mative poetics, as sound, is itself a realit y that invests us with the imperative to reconsider and review the ver y terms of aesthetical and ethical sense; that is, to rethink the ver y conditions of “realit y.” This, to propose a Deleuzian ﬁ gure, is a “line of ﬂ ight” that permits the escape of postcolonial art and lit- erature from the perpetual cycle of cultural repre sen ta tion, repression, and foreword xvi re sis tance. It is to transform the noted Bhabhian concept of a “third space” into a dynamic, unfolding vector in which the ver y terms of inherited under- standing are exposed to a questioning they have neither foreseen nor autho- rized. At this point, the literar y, the poetical, the artistic provide the cardinal points of a new critical compass: one that promotes a diverse navigation of a planetar y, but differentiated, modernit y.

Here the cit y, its form, function, and future, is split open, exposed to un- suspected winds. Fragmented, cut up, translated, sampled, and remixed, the solidity of the city as social and historical ediﬁ ce cracks under the heteroge- neous requests of its own multiplying archive. Domestic elements migrate into new conﬁ gurations of sense, become strangers to themselves. They pro- pose the undisciplined extension of practices and analyses that breach the boundaries of the existing authorization of knowledge, evacuating local, na- tional, and disciplinar y grounds. This suggests that in order to explain the “logic” of contemporary Tijuana in a cross- disciplinary and intercultural manner, that is, to respond to its mobile textures, grammar, and unfolding languages, we need to veer away from habitual referents toward a more ex- perimental series of ethnographies that emerge in the interstices of new cul- tural conﬁ gurations. In order to look at the cit y, rather than merely see it, there are many roads that can be taken. Some are subject to dense cultural trafﬁ c; others propose isolated, but perhaps exemplar y, encounters. We are often forced to slow down, get out and obser ve close up, other times to catch distant proﬁ les in the mirror. The trip is always incomplete and inconclusive:

it is a critical journey. What, in the performative instances of multiple metro- politan languages, is forcibly brought home is that the old imperial distances of center and peripher y have evaporated. There may well be other, altogether more ﬂ exible, discriminator y practices and economies that have replaced that stern logic, but there is now also a signiﬁ cant proximit y and communal- it y sustained in an urban global grammar that seeds both differences and interdependence. In this sense, a border cit y like Tijuana, just like the Paki- stani cit y of Peshawar on the North- West Frontier (its three million popula- tion swelled with Pashtun Afghan refugees), is saturated with its own varia- tions of the signs and sounds of planetar y modernit y, and brimming with the violent economies of illegal migration and frontier life. Such cities sugges- tively replace Walter Benjamin’s Paris to propose themselves as the new para- digmatic “capitals” of the t wentieth- ﬁ rst century.

The violence of the line, the brutalit y of borders, and the fetishization of frontiers is obviously a deeply reductive framing of social and historical space. An ecodynamics would of course situate such limits and teach us forewordxvii something different. An ea gle hovering in the hot air currents over the Ira- ni an desert near the Pakistan border, like its cousin, along with the coyote, the whale, and the butterﬂ y in northern Mexico and the southwestern United States are all humanistically appropriated but ultimately unredeemed by their diverse linguistic and national denominations. A similar ﬂ uidity lies in the unlicensed journeys of the artwork. It is this precise edge, where poetics suggests another politics, which provokes an often- unsuspected critical lan- guage. Here art ist ic pract ices are not simply modalit ies of historical witness- ing and testimony, but rather, in proposing conﬁ gurations of time and space, establish the places of another critical cartography. The realities of Tijuana come to be mapped, surveyed, visited, and lived differently, diversely, anew.

An inheritance is reworked, an archive remixed, a cit y rendered mobile by maps it had not previously recognized nor certiﬁ ed. In this sense, Tijuana proposes a model of the unsettled becoming of a modernit y that invests not only its own par tic u lar body and borders but also the multiple reach of the planetar y languages in which it is suspended and sustained. In this there lies the postcolonial return of the repressed as every metropo- lis becomes a potential migrant zone, crossed and cut up by a multiple series of borders. The previously excluded now reemerges within to reconﬁ gure the eco nom ical, social, and cultural proﬁ le of the modern cit y. There is, as Michel de Certeau observed some time ago, no “outside.” Modernity itself is not a qualit y to be controlled, defended, and deﬁ ned, but rather an ongoing urban grammar that worlds the world, collaging differences and communalities.

Here in the complex prism of individual places, we encounter a modernit y that no longer merely mirrors a single reasoning, but rather proposes variants in which local syntax exists and persists as a critical challenge and an ongoing interrogation. In the coeval, but unequal and unjust, mix of planetar y moder- nit y, it now becomes impossible to chart a simple hierarchy of development and “progress.” Here the classical distinction bet ween tradition and moder- nit y dissolves into another space; an assumed linearit y breaks up in an al- together more ﬂ uid series of dynamics in which tradition and localit y, as sites of translation and transformation, live on and engage with the surrounding world from within modernit y itself: the faith healer with the cell phone. This suggests that it is crucial to unbind both critical and poetical narratives from linear time. Development in the non- European world is also always, as it has been for ﬁ ve hundred years, about planetary locations and their possibilities.

The so- called south of the world is always already within modernit y. Such a change in perspective retrieves subjects and societies from the seem- ingly impossible race of modernit y: not yet there, almost there, hopelessly foreword xviii behind. It emerges in the wake of the theoretical leap proposed by the Sar- dinian intellectual Antonio Gramsci, and more recently reproposed by the Palestinian critic Edward Said. For both thinkers, the po liti cal, cultural, and historical struggle lies not bet ween modernit y and tradition, but rather be- t ween hegemony and the subaltern. From this 180- degree shift in cultural co- ordinates there emerges a radical revaluation of the dynamic and always incon- clusive sense of culture. Recognizing in re sis tance, deviance, and drift the condit ions of crit ique, it becomes possible to register t he powers t hat seek bot h to conﬁ gure and to contest the “common sense” of hegemony. On the cusp of this scenario, Tijuana lies both at the “third- world” end of Latin America and at the beginning of the “American Dream.” In terms of its positionalit y and as a contemporary metropolitan proposition, contemporary Tijuana continues to rehearse Frantz Fanon’s provocative reassembling of worldly relationships when in The Wretched of the Earth he declared that the ﬁ rst world was literally the creation of the third world. The dream, power, wealth, freedom, and hegemony are structurally sustained by what they exclude, negate, and repress. We now clearly ﬁ nd ourselves moving in dimensions that exceed contemporar y cosmo- politanism, tapping complex asymmetries of power that break the boundaries of comfortable deﬁ nitions, abstract securities, and the reassuring logic of transparent repre sen ta tion. In the montage of the metropolis yet to come, sounds and signs betray simple mapping. They propose not so much “authentic” views of the “real” Tijuana as the altogether more disquieting deﬂ ection of inherited lan- guages and deﬁ nitions as they come to be folded into the unsuspected ma- terialit ies of life. A further take, another combination, an unplanned idiom, wrenches modernit y out of its abstract state (and hegemonic universalism) and decants its possibilities into the idiolectical realization of a par tic u lar conﬁ guration of place. What comes from elsewhere, from south of the bor- der, potentially disrupts and ultimately reworks a modernit y that if now worldly no longer depends only on a privileged part of the planet for its legiti- macy. Over the border, across the line, in the “unconscious,” lies the challenge of the opaque, the unseen, and the unrecognized: not the irrational but fur- ther “reasons” that are irreducible to a single, however powerful, rationalit y. This is the crack in the wall, the hole in the fence, which both betrays and exposes the arrogant pretensions of believing that your (or rather my) culture and histor y has the unique right to legislate the world. If all of this continues to occur “under Western eyes” (Joseph Conrad), it is certainly no longer only authorized by the West. If the terms are clearly of Eu ro pe an provenance ( lit- erature , ar t , aesthetics , nation ), they are at the same time subjected to the trans- forewordxix formative practices of “deterritorialization” and “reterritorialization.” In their local accents and ﬂ exible cadences the transit and translation of such terms expose a planetary promise and potential that denies their points of “origin.” Further, it leads to the uncomfortable realization that “my” culture and histor y is not only mine. Despite the barriers, the controls, the sur veil- lance, and the disciplinar y protocols, my space has been invaded, contami- nated, creolized, translated, and transformed into a planetar y syntax that provides a home for a thousand dialects, a million idioms. This leads to emerging languages formed in the inconclusive transit of time, on the thresh- old of place, in the mobilit y induced by a worldly becoming. At this point, in Tijuana, on the border, neither the reconﬁ guration of exist- ing critical dispositions nor the reconﬁ rmation of the logics of a planetar y po- liti cal economy provides sufﬁ cient explanation. There is now the necessit y of a critical and cultural disengagement from the existing lexicon of sense. The latter, as hegemonic realit y, as institutional power and disciplinar y language, is not, however, simply canceled; rather, it comes to be exposed to interroga- tions it has never authorized. That par tic u lar occidental inheritance, and the universalist pretensions of its archive, now spills out into a critical ﬁ eld that is also inhabited by others. Those who were once the “objects” of an anthropo- logical, so cio log i cal, literar y, historical, and aesthetic gaze are now “subjects” who refuse to inhabit those categories passively. Here, crossing the border, cut- ting the conceptual fence and exiting from the disciplinary frame, the work in this volume may begin to teach us how to begin to live, to work, to think and become in a world that does not simply mirror our passage. It is precisely here, contrasting the inventive ﬂ uidit y of lived responses to the abstract rigidit y of occidental classiﬁ cation that an intercultural critique is rendered possible. His- torical, cultural, and po liti cal sense is not a categor y but, evoking a lineage that runs from Ibn Khaldûn through Giambattista Vico to Marx and Gramsci, a shifting constellation of practices. These, as they are here enacted in the un- folding complexities of contemporar y Tijuana, force the world into an opening that cannot be reduced to a single version pretending universal validit y. Introduction Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo The Factory of Dreams Tijuana is an industrial park on the outskir ts of Minneapolis. Tijuana is a col- ony of Tokyo. Tijuana is a Taiwanese sweatshop. —richard rodriguez, Days of Obligation My cit y is not only a street full of stupid gringos living an endless summer and two- colored Indians who sell paper ﬂ owers, of striped donkeys and suitcases full of cheap jewelry, of broken sad eyes with a Sony videocamera, of terraces full of mother fuckers who take poppers and kiss the ground looking for a Mexican señorita. . . . My city is a cage of illusions full of mirrors, wise poets and wannabe pop stars. Pover ty is in the suburbs and God is in ever y church, in the digital spots of the tv .—rafa saavedra , Buten Smileys There are many Tijuanas. Each one of them is half myth, half temporarily out of ser vice. — heriberto yépez , A.B.U.R.T.O. T here were dancers in matching red- and- yellow mechanic suits balancing on rusting steel railings. There were djs t weaking mix- ing boards, blasting cavernous dub from hollowed- out Volkswagen vans. Abandoned auto parts became makeshift sculptures. Spray- paint stencils of wrenches and demolished cars covered four stories of towering cement walls. There were tele vi sion monitors to watch.

There were T-shirts to buy. This was Tijuana in the fall of 2002, at the Nuevo Ferrari yonke, or junk yard, on boulevard Díaz Ordaz, where a local artist collective inspired by junkyard aesthetics of rescue and recycling, YONKEart, had or ga nized the Yonke Life part y— a multimedia art happening that fell somewhere bet ween a rave and a galler y installation fea- turing some of the turn- of- the- t went y- ﬁ rst- centur y Tijuana art and music scene’s more familiar names, the street artist Acamonchi and house music specialist Tolo among them. Up on the junk yard roof, beneath the burned- out Ferrari sign and in front of stacks of crushed car frames, an audience of bundled- up young tijuanenses sat in uphol- stered car seats salvaged from Ford Rangers and watched a locally made indie ﬁ lm that ended with a kid telling his father he wants to be Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 2 a rapper, not a mariachi singer. Off in the distance, Tijuana was a swelling ocean of ﬂ ickering hillside lights, spilling out in bejeweled waves that seemed to go on forever. In many ways, YONKEart was a kind of sequel to a similar event held a year earlier, only then the site was not a still- active junk yard, but a no- longer- active jai alai stadium in the heart of the cit y’s main tourist arter y, Avenida Revolu- ción. Billed as Maquiladora de Sueños, or Factory of Dreams, it was a part y / art show wrapped around a high concept: instead of a maquiladora factor y that assembled foreign parts into products for export and foreign consumption, this factor y would assemble art and culture for local consumption. The notion was literalized in an installation of grainy photo portraits of women workers from Tijuana’s thousands of maquiladora factories accompanied by audio re- cordings of their self- testimonies of ever yday factor y life, in a collection of found objects culled from factor y ﬂ oors, and in a live “dream- sweatshop” per- for mance where young women dressed as maquiladora workers assembled packets of wishes and dreams out of spare wires, memor y chips, power boards, and pc parts. They were joined by a range of projects that blurred art and life:

small- scale architecture models of Tijuana colonias; border checkpoint tourist kitsch made of old computer parts; custom border- transit pants designed by the local art and design company Torolab to accommodate visas, permits, and passports; and a line of “cyber- norteño” clothing that featured high- tech pon- chos, Day- Glo mesh serapes, and parachute dresses with vaquero stitching.

The artist Jaime Ruiz Otis scavenged maquiladora dumpsters for polyethylene bags and rubber gloves, ﬁ lled them with foam, and then hung the new cre- ations from the ceiling of the jai alai so they swung above the dance ﬂ oor like deindustrial pendulums— humble chandeliers of high- ﬁ nance manufactur- ing. For Ruiz, the suspended bags were meant to be reminders of labor, hours of brutal, tedious assembly- line work looming over the pleasures of a part y. The event was the brainchild of Pedro Beas, a member of the Nortec Col- lective, then a six- member group of electronic musicians, producers, and djs who were rising to local and international fame for their clever merger of electronic dance music with the accordions, tambora, and tuba- laced brass of Mexican norteño and banda sinaloense. After forming in 1999, Nortec’s mu- sical and cultural mash had rapidly made them the poster boys for both mil- lennial Tijuana and the cit y’s millennial generation, the soft ware- generated and digitally compressed soundtrack— where traditional and acoustic re- gional Mexican styles bled into newly minted global club cultures— to a sprawling and combust ing border cit y t hat was t hen, as it is now, facing mas- sive challenges in the age of free trade and economic globalization. 1 introduction3 Maquiladora de Sueños and Yonke Life were both products of global Ti- juana and vibrant, grassroots expressions of it, and they both aspired to translate (and grapple with) the impact of asymmetrical global economics, uneven international information net works, and ravenous neoliberal trade and ﬁ scal policy into locally conceived cultural events and per for mances.

The mergers they represent— bet ween culture and economics, art and poli- tics, the analog and the digital, the inﬁ nitely virtual and ﬁ nitely material, the promise of the global and the pain of the global— are the mergers that helped inspire the impetus for this book. Both events engaged Tijuana as a cit y of both assemblage and deassemblage, a cit y of internationally bankrolled in- dustrial parks and three- story, binational chop shops where stripped luxury scrap parts are given new life in the automotive Frankensteins (German- Italian mechanical mutts) that swerve across Tijuana’s rotary circles. Tijuana Dreaming is our attempt to explore the many dimensions of this globally impacted Tijuana, from the mid- sixties up through the futurist digi- tal urbanisms that the Tijuana writer and blogger Rafa Saavedra has called TJ2020.html (we include a “mixtape” of some of Saavedra’s self- chosen “greatest hits” here). While scholarship and press on Tijuana has tended to favor either highly utopian (“City of Postmodern Tomorrow,” “Artistic Mecca”) or highly dystopia n (“Globa l Junk ya rd,” “Slum of Empire”) vie ws, we have been inspired by cultural events like Maquiladora de Sueños and Yonke Life in that they live somewhere in the middle and reveal a cit y that is actively shaping its identit y on the rock y ground bet ween culture as global critique and culture as global capital, and bet ween globalization’s perils and its tempting, taunting promises. Tijuana, Reassembled In recent years, Tijuana has been the subject of numerous battles over deﬁ ni- tion. “This is Tijuana,” one antholog y declared, while another insisted that, no, “Here is Tijuana.” As Humberto Félix Berumen, a leading Tijuana scholar, shows in his essay that we include here, Tijuana is a cit y of multiple dis- courses and archet ypes that only relatively recently emerged as a “narratable cit y,” a cit y of legible narratives and comprehensible ideas. Trendy and ap- pealing for some, horriﬁ c and frightening for others, Tijuana has invariably been described, in both print and new media, as “hybrid,” “not Mexico,” “the End of Latin America and the beginning of the American Dream,” “the hap- piest place on earth,” “a laborator y of postmodernit y,” “a third space,” “a po- rous border,” “a Walled Cit y,” a “drug capital” on the U.S. travel advisory list. Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 4 Historically often a cit y of passage and increasingly a cit y of immigrant desti- nation, narco net working, and Homeland Securit y intensit y in post- 9/11 geo- politics, contemporar y Tijuana is a cit y of superlatives: Tijuana the most- crossed space in the world, Tijuana the ugliest cit y in the world, Tijuana the most violent, Tijuana the most creative, Tijuana the most dangerous. These are all, as Heriberto Yépez explains in his contribution here, “Tijuanologies,” academic theories, cultural myths, and pop culture hyperboles that have come to be more visible than any of the cit y’s own social realities.

Tijuana lives on multiple maps. Situated at the edge of the Mexican post- revolutionary nationalist imaginary, Tijuana is a waiting room for undocu- mented migrants from Latin America and continental Mexico and a passage- way (for anything) to the other side. Situated at the edge of the U.S. national imaginar y, Tijuana has historically been a plea sure playground for the U.S.

tourist in search of cheap, nearby thrills and a ﬁ nancial playground for the global ceo looking to maximize Paciﬁ c Rim proﬁ ts with cheap nonunion labor. Or as Santiago Vaquera- Vásquez puts it in his essay here, “Tijuana can be read as an outpost in the middle world bet ween the ﬁ rst and the third.” As such, it has a vexed relation to any one par tic u lar national formation and har- bors a singular conﬂ uence of cultural differences that nonetheless elude, or even reject, contemporary notions of cosmopolitanism. Tijuana has emerged as a unique site for contemplating the drastic and devastating asymmetries and inequities— the “negative globalization” that is increasingly synonymous with globalization itself— that characterize the global experience. “Today’s globalization is radically different from its pre de ces sors on one essential point,” Daniel Cohen writes. “It is difﬁ cult to be an actor but easy to be a spectator. . . . The new global economy creates an unpre ce dented rupture be- t ween the expectations to which it gives birth and the realit y it brings about.” 2 This collection approaches Tijuana from its coordinates on the map of this new global economy where liquid ﬂ ows are put into action only through the proliferation of immobile partitions, control mechanisms, and securit y envi- ronments (the Tijuana novelist and writer Luis Humberto Crosthwaite gives us border crossing as border immobility, border ﬂ ows as border waiting, in his short stor y included here). These essays are all aware of Tijuana’s place along what Thomas P. M. Barnett, a former secretar y of defense strategist, has dubbed “the po liti cal equator,” the dividing line bet ween the world’s “func- tioning core” and its “non- integrating gap” that is guaranteeing that global- ization is not actually a global phenomenon. 3 The geographer Harm de Blij similarly contends that the global map is divided bet ween a global core and a global periphery, and what keeps the t wo sectors apart is “the Western Wall introduction5 around the global core,” a series of borders that keep the inequities and asym- metries of globalization in place. 4 Of the eleven control sites he and other eco- nomic geographers have identiﬁ ed (southern Spain– northern Africa, North Korea– South Korea, and Israel– West Bank, among them), the U.S.- Mexico bor- der at its Paciﬁ c edge— the home turf of Tijuana— is number one on the list.

Tijuana Dreaming investigates Tijuana’s place on this global map of ﬂ ows and partitions, actors and spectators, winners and losers, by approaching the cit y’s histor y according to t wo distinct, though intert wined periods. First, the age of tourism (1889– 1965), which begins with the city’s founding as a small, family- owned cattle rancheria in 1889 and extends through its Prohibition- era development into a tourist outpost and “cit y of sin” vice magnet for U.S. plea- sure seekers heavily ﬁ nanced by Alta California entertainment entrepreneurs, media t ycoons, and railroad barons. Though Tijuana’s tourist heyday began to dwindle in the late 1960s, in some sense the cit y remains forever locked in the sombreros and curio shops of tourist postcards, in a black- and- white 1920s- tinted image of itself as a Las Vegas– Old Mexico hybrid of tequila hang- overs, casino smoke, and cheap, dirt y sex where the mythic Donkey Show still has some gravitational pull. In her essay for this collection, Jennifer Insley- Pruitt shows how this histor y of myth and black legend has been transformed by some of Tijuana’s leading contemporary literary ﬁ gures, and Berumen, Vaquera- Vásquez, and the Mexico Cit y writer Guillermo Fadanelli all return to Tijuana’s tourist haunts and nightclub utopias in order to make sense of the cit y in the present tense. But the essays in this volume are born mostly from this second historical period, the age of globalization (1965– present), which begins in earnest with the transformation of Tijuana into a cit y of export- oriented assembly with the passage of the Border Industrialization Program ( bip) in 1965, a proposed Mexican remedy to the end of the U.S. Bracero Program that rescinded the labor invitations that had brought so many Mexicans north beginning in the 1940s. The bip , aimed at generating employment and economic development along the border, was a monumental piece of legislation that would radically alter Tijuana’s social and economic landscape by removing international tar- iff barriers, opening Tijuana (as well as other border cities) up to the arrival of foreign maquiladora assembly plants, and setting the stage for the passage of the North American Free Trade Agreement nearly thirt y years later. 5 Indeed, as the sociologist Leslie Sklair has argued, the bip did far more than simply create new border jobs. It aimed to redeﬁ ne the border region into a “develop- ment zone” and “dynamic growth pole” whose very essence and identit y were rooted in its value as an economic resource for northern Mexico’s entrance Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 6 into the global economy. 6 Early Tijuana maquiladora assembly plants like Lit- ton Industries and Fairchild, for example, shipped their memor y boards and electrical transformers from Baja California to Alta California and were in- strumental in the growth of Silicon Valley’s multibillion- dollar global tech industry. The 1965 bip legislation— which had early roots in 1930s drives to cast Baja California as a “free perimeter” or “free zone” for industrial imports— was preceded four years earlier by the Programa Nacional Fronterizo, or prona f , Mexico’s ﬁ rst internally driven attempt to pump money and invest- ment into the consumer and industrial markets of its northern border, urg- ing Mexican nationals to “buy Mexican” and reframing the border as a con- sumer zone, “Mexico’s show window.” prona f and the bip both paved the way for the free trade policies and economic border deregulation of naf ta in the 1990s, and taken together all three powerfully shaped Tijuana’s en- trance into the global economy. And all three powerfully impacted the cit y’s own identity as an emergent hub of globalized urbanism characterized by chronic population explosions, fragile urban infrastructures and emergency architectures, booming industrial parks and fading tourist industries, and a massive communit y of working poor that grows alongside both an ascendant middle class and an ascendant narco culture of quick wealth, ephemeral bling, urban terror, and fragile human life. It is this Tijuana that emerges in Josh Kun’s contribution here, a belea- guered and militarized cit y marred by sadness and beset by kidnappings and drug violence, where so much can be lost in the desperate hunt for power and wealth. If, as the pioneering Tijuana journalist Jesús Blancornelas once wrote, “corruption is the mother of drug trafﬁ cking,” then uneven economic globalization is at least one mother of that corruption. 7 The post- 1965 eco- nomic transformation of Tijuana helped turn the cit y into fertile soil for the economic desperation and social instabilit y that drug cartels thrive on, and with the arrival of the Arellano- Felix cartel in the early 1990s, Tijuana’s piv- otal position as a drug route bet ween the United States and South America was secured. While drug violence had been a part of Tijuana’s urban proﬁ le since the early nineties, it was in the following de cade that the violence spilled out beyond the world of narcos, politicians, and millionaires. When Tijuana’s murder rate reached its all- time high in 2008, the cit y seemed as if it were under siege. Innocent people were dying, kindergartners were caught in shoot- outs, military tanks hovered over thoroughfares, and the killings got more and more grisly. The encobijados, or bodies wrapped in blankets, of the nineties had become the three hundred bodies dissolved in acid by El Po- introduction7 zolero in 2009. The wealthy ﬂ ed north to San Diego, the middle classes bul- letproofed their windows, and the cit y’s working poor, including so many thousands of maquiladora workers who still left their colonias ever y morn- ing at dawn for the assembly plants, were more vulnerable than ever before. If the capital of tourist Tijuana is the infamous downtown main drag of Avenida Revolución— the fabled multiblock strip of clubs, bars, curio shops, and pharmacies that is usually the ﬁ rst, and often only, stop on the itinerar y of the Tijuana tourist— then the capital of this vulnerable global Tijuana is the zone known as the 5 y 10 . Named for a former ﬁ ve- and- dime store, the 5 y 10 cluster of shops, malls, markets, and pedestrian bridges lies at the heart of the eastern La Mesa district and is the chief commercial center and transporta- tion hub for Tijuana’s working classes. Over the river from the cit y’s central bus terminal and a short distance from both the La Mesa prison and some of t he cit y’s maquiladoras and maquiladora housing colonias, it’s an overcrowded and exhaust- choked crossroads that’s the bustling epicenter of global Tijuana’s ever yday hustle. While many of these essays are shadowed by Tijua- na’s tourist past and informed by its tourist myths, we see them all in dialogue in some way with the cit y that is reborn daily at the 5 y 10. It’s here where invest- ments in border industr y cross paths with divestments in border ecol og y, health, and economic justice; it’s here where low- wage workers employed by global corporations do their daily consuming before returning to homes with- out sewage and clean water (an estimated 40 percent of the cit y lacks proper sewage and water). It’s precisely this world that is documented in Maquilapolis, the 2006 ﬁ lm by Vick y Funari and Sergio de la Torre about this “cit y of facto- ries,” which ﬁ gures centrally in Tarek Elhaik’s piece for this collection. Beginning in 1965, Tijuana became one of many international cities that felt the brunt of widespread deindustrialization campaigns and drives to- ward outsourced manufacturing. David Harvey has argued that it was in the post- 1965 period that “the production of geo graph i cal difference” begins to become a hallmark of globalization. 8 By focusing on Tijuana in this histori- cal period, this collection examines the impact of capitalism’s “uneven geo- graph i cal development” on one cit y, a further reminder that the most intense dramas of globalization continue to occur not on global stages, but on local and regional ones. Tijuana is an ideal site to follow through on Saskia Sas- sen’s important urgings that globalization does not minimize the role of na- tions and cities, but that globalization actually exists through nations and cities which function as “enablers” and “enactors” of the global. 9 The essays in this collection look nothing like a world made ﬂ at, its national differences evened out by globalization’s helping hand, but instead show us— whether in Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 8 Tito Alegría’s debunking of cultural integration myths or Teddy Cruz’s atten- tion to ecological and infrastructural disjunctures or even Luis Humberto Crosthwaite’s meditation on the border- crossing line itself— how the eco- nomic changes that swept through Tijuana in the late 1960s still require na- tional differences to maintain the very exploitations and inequalities that successful economic globalization requires.

They also remind us of the connections that Alejandro Lugo has recently insisted upon in his own study of the impact of assemblage economies on border lives: the globalization of border cities is not born of a historical vac- uum but is “a socio- historical product of the politics of conquest of t wo global empires— the Spanish empire (1521– 1810) and the American empire (1848 – pre sent).” 10 Tijuana is a global cit y, then, not only because it has been made to play a contemporary role in free trade’s reor ga ni za tion of North America and neoliberalism’s reimagining of social life, sovereignt y, and sub- jectivit y, but because it inherits t wo imperial lineages, both of which set the stage for the domination and administration of the Mexican working classes that the current era of assembly and manufacturing still depends upon. For Sassen, a global cit y is characterized by t wo central traits: it is a site “of the over valorization of corporate capital and the further devalorization of dis- advantaged economic actors” on the one hand, and on the other, it is a “stra- tegic site for disempowered actors because it enables them to gain presence, to emerge as subjects, even when they do not gain direct power.” 11 The essays gathered here reﬂ ect on both of these traits as they’ve emerged in Tijuana, where since 1965 intense corporate investment and economic development have been coupled with both local struggles for economic parit y (through both formal and informal, legal and illegal, industries) and struggles for so- cial and cultural visibilit y. Yet one area where some of the more foundational scholarly accounts of global cities— or “world cities” and “international cities”— have shed less light is culture. The sociologist Kathr yn Kopinak, whose over view of Tijuana’s rela- tionship to economic globalization is included here, has written at length on what she calls “the social costs of industrial growth” in the Tijuana region, but the essays gathered here also force us to consider the cultural costs and the cultural results of industrial growth, how Tijuana’s “urban imaginaries” are expressed and articulated through cultural per for mance and cultural produc- tion. 12 The pieces we’ve included from Ejival, Jesse Lerner, René Peralta, and Tarek Elhaik explore these “urban imaginaries” by looking at Tijuana’s musical countercultures, its architectural ruins and ghosts, and its contemporary cin- ematic archives. Even in his primarily historical and economic 1993 study of introduction9 maquiladoras, Sklair made it clear that the border’s economic restructuring has distinctive cultural impacts. “The concrete manifestations of the global- ization of capital are apparent on the export oriented assembly zones,” he wrote.

“But their effects are being felt more widely in politics and culture.” 13 Indeed, as Margath Walker has shown, culture has played a central role not only in the imaginaries of young grassroots artists, musicians, writers, designers, and other creatives hoping to make sense of Tijuana, but in the policies and plan- ning of the city of Tijuana itself where, to borrow George Yúdice’s phrase, cul- ture becomes expedient, an economic resource of global visibility and global policy. One of Yúdice’s key case studies in this area is inSITE, the internation- ally recognized art triennial that since 1992 has been staging large- scale art installations and per for mances that focus on the San Diego– Tijuana region.

While Yúdice applauds inSITE’s role in fostering artistic growth in the border region and putting Tijuana on a global map of artistic interest, he also sees it as a kind of artistic corollary of naf ta’s free- trade economic policies, only here it’s culture that is assembled with foreign money by local workers, it’s culture that acts as capital, and it’s culture that is imbued with economic value for global investors and consumers. He goes so far as to dub inSITE “an artistic maquiladora whose executives (the directors of the art event) contract with managers (the curators) to map out the agenda for ﬂ exible workers- for- hire (artists) who in turn produce or extract (cultural) capital by pro cessing a range of materials.” 14 The extent to which Tijuana’s cit y ofﬁ cials themselves seem to be embracing a free- trade approach to cultural capital and investment can be seen in the 2005– 2007 cit y municipal plan, which contained over t went y refer- ences to fostering cultural development in Tijuana. For Walker, this is an at- tempt to “embed Tijuana deeply and successfully in the global economy by situ- ating its culture for economic gain.” 15 Or in the words of Tijuana’s municipal planners: “Our border position has converted our cit y into an open space of stimulating innovation and tolerance whose economic vitalit y and cultural cre- ativit y has projected to the international scale.” 16 A similar language and devel- opmental logic was at the core of 2010’s Tijuana Innovadora, a privately funded $5 million two- week conference and image make over held at cecut , the cit y’s leading cu lt ura l inst it ut ion, desig ned t o showc ase Tijua na as a center of innovations in technolog y, science, and culture. Aimed at hundreds of elite global attendees (Al Gore and a cofound er of Wikipedia among them), the event, in the words of the conference’s ofﬁ cial video promo, was designed to showcase Tijuana as the capital of “the intelligent frontier” and in language that echoed prona f and bip in the sixties, thereby “generate national in- vestment that will expand the region’s economy.” Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 10 “It’s Time for Tijuana”: Global Myths, Global Realities With over t wo million people, Tijuana is the second largest cit y on North America’s Paciﬁ c Coast (smaller than Los Angeles, bigger than Seattle and San Francisco). When paired with San Diego to the north, the t wo cities are responsible for an estimated $6 billion a year in exports and an estimated $8 billion in cross- border trade. The Web site for the nonproﬁ t Tijuana Eco- nomic Development Corporation— available in En glish, Japa nese, and Chinese— announces to potential corporate clients that “It’s time for Tijuana,” advertising the cit y’s rich, seemingly endless resources of “human capital” and promoting its prime Paciﬁ c Rim import- export real estate—“globally stra- tegic, yet ver y near- shore.” As the site puts it, “Having your business in Tijuana not only means you’ll be in a great city next to US markets— it also means you get access to Mexico’s globally- oriented menu of free trade agreements.” 17 Since the launch of the bip in 1965, the lure of this regional wealth and the strength of this regional industr y has made Tijuana a destination not only for companies looking for tariff- free trade corridors, but for all that “human capital,” those millions of migrants from the south looking to ﬁ nd work on the factor y ﬂ oors of the cit y’s thousands of maquiladoras (which, it’s esti- mated, on average employ a million workers at a time). As Berumen reminds us in his essay, others, of course, begin by simply seeing Tijuana as a ciudad de paso , a cit y there to be crossed and passed by on the way into the United States, a necessar y gateway to the world that beckons on the other side of the rusting border wall. While many make it across, more do not, and for them, the maquiladoras are always waiting. The hillsides with views of San Diego and the shant ytowns out beyond the ofﬁ cial Tijuana cit y grid are waiting too, and before long migrants become residents, the ciudad de paso becomes a hometown where families are raised, where generations pass. 18 These pro cesses are at the core of Lawrence Herzog’s many writings on globalization’s impact on the social and ecological infrastructures of Ti- juana. For Herzog, Tijuana is an “an ideal laborator y for understanding how globalization is shaping a new kind of urbanism,” this cit y that sits at the most- crossed land border in the world and cradles the U.S.- Mexico border’s largest port of entry. 19 Yet while the essays in this collection have much in common with Herzog’s portrait of “global Tijuana”— which he outlines ac- cording to a taxonomy of various ecologies of trade, consumerism, and communit y— they stop short of celebrating it as a completed global project, an imaginar y border utopia free of disjunctures and economic injustices, where global factories and free- trade policies simply generate new kinds of introduction11 freely participating border consumers who become “global citizens” of a new cross- border global order.

Instead, we see Tijuana as a global cit y precisely because of the uneven, pre- carious, and often destructive nature of globalization itself, which might pro- duce new markets and new consumers as neoliberal victories, but also produce a border citizenship that is unstable and fragile and a combustive urban in- frastructure deﬁ ned by informal, or “shadow,” economies (including drug and human t raf ﬁ cking) as much as by the formal ﬂ ows of global industr y. Instead of a cit y of “global citizens” participating equally in globalization, tijuanenses are more frequently part of what Josiah Heyman has called the border’s “con- sumer proletariat,” people alienated from both the means of production and the means of consumption. 20 As Har vey has reminded us, globalization indeed moves across national spaces, but does so unevenly; some sites and spaces are more resource rich for globalization’s abundances, others more resource rich for globalization’s scarcities.

21 Tijuana falls into the latter category; part of what makes it global is its scarcit y in the ser vice of afﬂ uence.

It is, after all, a cit y born from not just any geopo liti cal border, but from the only one in the world that divides one of the world’s poorest nations from the world’s richest, which, as Alexis McCrossen has shown, makes it highly attrac- tive to markets, which are by deﬁ nition attracted to the kind of “accumulation of asymmetries in such close proximit y” that has become a primar y character- istic of Tijuana’s urban proﬁ le.

22 Or as Andreas Huyssen has written of cities in the age of globalization, “Rather than producing connectivities and ﬂ ows equally bet ween all regions of the planet, globalization functions in horizontal clusters through and among which global, local, and regional dimensions are ricocheting with var ying intensities and breadth.” 23 Tijuana is a ricochet cit y, a cluster of connectivities and ﬂ ows that can be as smooth as they are rough.

Things cross and things are detained. There’s trafﬁ c and there’s waiting. Flows become inspections. Tijuana constantly reminds: the global is also gridlock. In much recent U.S. scholarship on Tijuana, that gridlock, while always present, is frequently overshadowed by theories of transnational trafﬁ c, cross- border net works, and transnational urban planning. A 2000 study by a former cit y architect of San Diego, Michael Stepner, and a San Diego cit y planner, Paul Fiske, for example, included Tijuana– San Diego in the world’s most important “global cit y regions,” with Tijuana as one half of a rich binational pairing that ought to attract investors and urban planners alike (it was an idea previously explored in 1974 by Kevin Lynch and Donald Appleyard, who had tempered their binational visions by wondering if the region was a “temporary para- dise”). 24 Three years earlier, Herzog had already begun developing this idea Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 12 when he wrote of the Tijuana– San Diego region as a “transfrontier metropolis” that was a “protot ype of global urban space.” Like Stepner and Fiske, Herzog focused on the shared trafﬁ c: combined population numbers, binational com- muters, binational consumers, cross- border tourists, global factories, cross- border bedroom communities, shared infrastructures, shared fates of urban design. “The age of land warfare is past,” he wrote. “Global markets and free trade are the new dominant realities, and propert y at the edges of nations is at t ract ing investors, businesses, and government s. Indust ria l parks, highways, rail systems, and airports that once bypassed international frontiers are relo- cating there.” 25 We worr y about just how close a “transfrontier metropolis” is to the “Tijuana– San Diego megaregion” promoted by the maquiladora industr y, which uses Tijuana’s human capital and tariff- free industrial parks as incentive for future global investment that, contrary to any vision of cross- border parity, will only increase the economic divide bet ween San Diego and Baja California.

We have included the work of San Diego– based architect and planner Teddy Cruz in the collection precisely to address these contradictions and these in- novations in regional planning as he represents one of the leading contempo- rary voices in reimagining the infrastructures and public spaces of the cross- border landscape. The increasingly pop u lar view of the border megacit y, where national edges function more as market openings and less as state partitions, reap- peared in the inﬂ uential 2003 collection Postborder City , from Michael Dear and Gustavo LeClerc. The volume shed much- needed light on the histor y of Baja California and on Tijuana’s central role in the inter- California region, but did so by anchoring Tijuana in a transnational geography the authors named “Bajalta California,” a Southern California– northern Mexico zone of trade, culture, and communit y where the geopo liti cal border takes a backseat to the idea of a “postborder” where ﬂ ows of ideas, culture, and ﬁ nance shape a porous Bajalta border region. 26 While the essays in Tijuana Dreaming cer- tainly participate in and contribute to a transnational body of ideas and cul- ture, and while they certainly understand Tijuana’s key coordinates on the Southern California– northern Mexico map, their approach to the cit y begins on the southern side of a border partition that keeps San Diego’s gross do- mestic product roughly eleven times that of Tijuana. Viewed from Los Ange- les or San Diego, the Tijuana– San Ysidro border may be a zone of free trade and free- ﬂ owing economic trafﬁ c with edges ripe for investment and plan- ning, but viewed from Tijuana it is ﬁ rst and foremost a barrier and partition bet ween core and peripher y, a sur veilled zone of Homeland Securit y policing and economic unevenness, a key example of what Ruth Wilson Gilmore introduction13 means by a “fatal power- difference coupling.” 27 Like the prisons Gilmore writes about, the national edges of the new global economy are also mecha- nisms and icons of domestic militarism, “geo graph i cal solutions to social and economic crises, po liti cally or ga nized by a racial state that is itself in crisis.” Especially since the vicious 1994 legislative tag team of naf ta (op en- ing the border to free movement of goods and parts) and Operation Gate- keeper (closing the border to the free movement of people), Tijuana has been a key site for witnessing what Heyman has described as the border’s “mobilities- enclosures continuum”— where some are allowed to move (“ki- netic elites”), while others remain detained. The border becomes a risk- management hub, a ﬁ lter for “safe” travelers and against “risk y” travelers that produces “differential mobility effects.” 28 Alejandro Lugo has gone one step further and argued against the alleged common sense of borders as places of crossing, insisting instead that bor- ders are primarily places of inspection characterized by the “per vasive pat- tern of cultural surveillance.” To speak only of the crossings themselves masks the inspections that take place before and after crossing (if crossing is even permitted). For Lugo, then, national borders are far from being the ro- manticized zones of ﬂ ux, hybridit y, and postmodern deterritorialit y that be- came the familiar subject of so much cultural theory in the 1990s; rather, borders can be redeﬁ ned as “ethnographic objects that are mainly character- ized by supervision and scrutiny.” 29 As you might expect, theories of Tijuana’s role in a cross- border global megacit y have had less currency in Tijuana itself, where scholars and critics are t ypically more focused on local asymmetr y, not inter- California regional prosperit y, and have tended to approach globalization not in terms of trans- national ﬂ ows and transnational geographies but in terms of how shifts in global economics have impacted highly localized struggles around culture and politics and local struggles around social equalit y and civic health. Lead- ing the way has been the Tijuana scholar Tito Alegría (we include a sample of his recent work here), whose 2009 study Metrópolis transfronteriza offers a pas- sionate and thorough refutation of the “transfrontier metropolis” and “megacit y” ideas. He argues that Herzog, Dear, and Leclerc confuse interac- tion with integration. “The ﬂ ows [bet ween Tijuana and San Diego] are the means of a relationship,” he writes. “But they are not sufﬁ cient for an integra- tion.” 30 There is no doubt that Tijuana is the product of more than a centur y’s worth of cross- border inﬂ uence (indeed, one cannot imagine the birth of modern Tijuana itself without the Prohibition- era investments of U.S. capi- tal) but Alegría contends that there has been no integration of Tijuana into Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 14 the north- of- the- border economy that fuels cities like Los Angeles and San Diego. Alegría names three “brakes” that slow transfrontier integration: the increase of impediments to south- to- north migrations, the increasing dis- parities bet ween U.S. and Mexican salaries and prices, and the increasing difﬁ cult y for tijuanenses to cross the border north into San Diego Count y with everyday frequency (he estimates that less than half of the cit y can do so legally). As a result, where others see U.S.- Mexico transnationalism, Alegría sees structural differences bet ween the United States and Mexico. If there is “interurban binational ﬂ ux,” he says, it exists precisely because of structural disparities and inequalities. These disparities became particularly acute as part of a broader post- 9/11 condition, which cemented the border’s role less as an instigator of interac- tion and more as a consolidator of difference. Two key exceptionalities devel- oped. First, an Agambian state of exception was increasingly applied to the border as a zone t hat was almost const ant ly alarmingly “orange,” dangerous, and fertile ground for terrorist invasion. Second, a cultural exceptionalit y developed that, as the curator Lucía Sanromán and the photographer Ingrid Hernández demonstrate in their pieces here, emerged from within by leading Tijuana ﬁ lmmakers, anthropologists, architects, and artists eager to inter- pret and represent their globalizing cit y through a new generational lens, and from without by curators, cultural critics, and arts journalists who en- thusiastically characterized the cit y as a cultural and artistic hot spot. Or as the New York Times put it (in a piece they headlined “It’s Hot. It’s Hip. It’s Ti- juana?”), “Its fabled lawlessness has become a kind of freedom and license for social mobilit y and entrepreneurship that has attracted artists and musi- cians, chefs and restaurateurs, and professionals from Mexico and else- where.” Tijuana’s sudden hipness took on par tic u lar force in the art world with Tijuana’s art scene landing on the radar of international curators and journalists, suddenly making it the trendiest art cit y in Mexico bet ween 2003 and 2006. Bet ween 2005 and 2006 alone, three major exhibitions showcased Tijuana- speciﬁ c art: 2005’s Tijuana Sessions (for arco in Madrid, Spain) and Tercera Nación (Tijuana), and 2006’s Strange New World (mcasd , San Diego). 31 This recent art boom has at least a few roots in the successes and global rec- ognition of inSITE, which has long been perhaps the most vocal and consis- tent proponent of Tijuana as both a site for art (a destination for artists, cura- tors, and critics not from the Tijuana– San Diego region) and a site of artists (the artistic home base of artists living and working in Tijuana). While many celebrated this new attention on Tijuana as a place for something other than violence and vice, others worried that art that was critical of the onslaught of introduction15 globalization became an (perhaps inadvertent) advertisement for it. Dubbing Tijuana’s art boom “arte naf ta ” that was spun by curators into a “pop opti- mism” about the border, Heriberto Yépez wrote that “border art is being ma- nipulated to invent a favorable image of Mexico’s cultural integration with the U.S.” 32 As Yépez’s own critique made clear, the international attention given Ti- juana’s art scene was often paired with the common characterization of Tijuana as the ultimate postmodern cit y of the third world, the archet ypal “third space” of liminality and in- betweenness once theorized by Homi Bhabha. Tijuana’s role as a kind of theorist’s darling begins in 1990 with the publication of Néstor García Canclini’s watershed book, Culturas híbridas: Es- trategias para entrar y salir de la modernidad . “During the t wo periods in which I studied the intercultural conﬂ icts at the Mexican side of the border, in Ti- juana, in 1985 and 1988,” he wrote in a passage now famous among border- lands scholars, “it occurred to me at more than one time that this city is, along with New York, one of the greatest laboratories of postmodernit y.” 33 For García Canclini, Tijuana’s bilingualism, its continuous cultural mixtures of North and South, its meetings of ﬁ rst and third worlds, made it an exqui- sitely hybrid cit y. His characterization gradually helped make Tijuana syn- onymous with global hybridit y and postmodern urbanism, a notion that spread through the pop u lar press, academia, and the art world (Heriberto Yépez’s essay in this collection offers a critique of this trend). 34 Yet in an in- ter view included here, García Canclini revisits his earlier claims with a more critical eye toward hybridit y and the uncritical reappropriations and use of his writing on Tijuana by fellow critics. As Diana Palaversich and Eduardo Barrera have both noted, García Can- clini’s characterization of Tijuana as a postmodern capital was undoubtedly inﬂ uenced by the 1980s and 1990s per for mance art work of Guillermo Gómez- Peña and the Border Arts Workshop. 35 Their important per for mance interven- tions into discourses of cultural nationalism and cultural purit y— launched from the San Diego– Tijuana border— frequently portrayed Tijuana as an ideal site for thinking about binational cultural ﬂ ows, polyglot tongues, and improvisational borderlands identities that move across the border’s “gap between worlds.” 36 While acutely aware of this tradition (and in some cases, overtly grappling with it), the essays in Tijuana Dreaming do not extend this theoretical current and instead go behind the often too- easy romance of Ti- juana postmodernism and hybridit y to explore the cit y’s culture and identit y through critical lenses that we believe are more generative for understanding t he cit y so t hat it is not wholly deﬁ ned by, or synonymous with, the borderline Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 16 itself. The conﬂ ation of Tijuana with border has helped enable, to borrow a phrase from Palaversich, Tijuana’s “international blessing as one of the ﬁ rst examples of the brave new postmodern world,” which has tended to distract many scholars and critics outside of the cit y from examining the social, po- liti cal, and economic fractures that continue to shape it from within. 37 Tijuana may be the Mexican cit y most visited by U.S. tourists and one of the Mexican cities most referenced when media talk turns to the “crisis” of contemporar y border life, yet scholarship and critical writing about Tijuana available in En glish is scarce. Only one of Tijuana’s contemporar y novelists (Luis Humberto Crosthwaite) has had work translated, and not one of the cit y’s contemporary generation of scholars and critics has seen their long- form work available in En glish for students, facult y, and interested readers north of the line. As a result, Tijuana is much talked about, but little heard.

Courses on border issues tend to rely on the scant, and often very dated, pieces of writing available. Tijuana has been, historically, a cit y deﬁ ned by its misrepre sen ta tion in myth and fantasy, synonymous with a kind of critical ventriloquism that leaves its own critical and intellectual and artistic voices all too silent in transnational conversations. This antholog y aims to correct that imbalance by including a number of essential articles by leading scholars from Tijuana and greater Mexico in translation for the ver y ﬁ rst time. The essays explore Tijuana’s cultural life through four central prisms: panoramas that view the city in its broadest cul- tural, historical, and discursive terms and position contemporar y cultural life in Tijuana in the context of the cit y’s repre sen ta tional history; the new urban- isms t hat have energized urban planning in Tijuana, new t heories of socia l and civic life and domestic innovation that respond to the cit y’s unique infrastruc- tural, demographic, and environmental pressures; the cultural developments in visual art, literature, and music that have taken Tijuana’s artistic life beyond conventional discourses of “border art” as they have been deployed in the art world and the academy alike; and globalisms , views of the challenges facing Tijuana in the global age, the ghosts of its cinematic past that cloud its future, the violence and fear that have begun to reshape the cit y’s sense of itself. Yet even in the face of this violence and fear, in the face of so many asym- metries and ruptures, the essays in this collection all seem to come back to a love of the cit y that borders on obsession and is fueled by a critical passion.

“In my lifetime,” Yépez writes, “I have not felt a love as profound as the con- fusing passion that I feel for Tijuana, an obsession that does not preclude criticism and which more accurately provokes sudden repudiation. Tijuana introduction17 elicits a crazy love, a narcotic love. Tijuana is addictive.” Tijuana Dreaming is our attempt to pay tribute to that love in all of its diversit y, to take those ad- dictions seriously by creating a collection that will help enrich conversations about Tijuana’s role in the current global landscape. Or, to paraphrase some- thing Teddy Cruz once told the New York Times when he was asked why he has focused so much of his work on Tijuana, we assembled this collection be- cause we believe that to study Tijuana is, quite simply, “to be in the midst of the argument.” 38 Welcome to (a new) Tijuana. Notes 1 For more on Nortec, see Alejandro Madrid, Nor- Tec Rifa! Electronic Dance Music from Tijuana to the World (Oxford Universit y Press, 2008); and José Manuel Valenzuela (e d.), Paso del Nortec: This Is Tijuana! (Trilce, 2004).

2 Daniel Cohen, Globalization and Its Enemies (mit , 2007), 6.

3 Thomas P. M. Barnett, The Pentagon’s New Map: War and Peace in the 21st Century (Putnam, 2004).

4 Harm de Blij, The Power of Place: Geography, Destiny, and Globalization’s Rough Land- scape (Oxford Universit y Press, 2008), 32.

5 To be clear, we do not believe that tourism and globalization are mutually exclu- sive economic and cult ural regimes, but t hat t hey are in fact ver y much ent angled with one another. It’s a theme that the essays in this collection constantly grap- ple with: the relationship bet ween the new cultural net works and social struc- tures that emerged in Tijuana in the 1960s as a direct result of border industrial- ization and previous cultural regimes tied to the binational ﬂ ows of tourist dollars and tourist fantasies.

6 Leslie Sklair, Assembling for Development: The Maquila Industry in Me xico and the United State s (ucsd , 1993), 27.

7 Jesús Blancornelas, El Cartel (Plaza y Janes, 2002), 39.

8 David Har vey, Space s of Hope (Universit y of California Press, 2000), 78.

9 Saskia Sassen, Territory, Authority, Rights: From Medieval to Global Assemblages (Prince- ton Universit y Press, 2008), 1.

10 Alejandro Lugo, Fragmented Lives, Assembled Parts: Culture, Capitalism, and Conquest at the U.S.- Mexico Border (Universit y of Texas Press, 2008), 2.

11 Saskia Sassen, Globalization and Its Discontents: Essays on the New Mobility of People and Money (New Press, 1999), xx; for a helpful treatment of different “world- cit y” and “international cit y” approaches, see Steven Erie, Globalizing L.A.: Trade, Infra- structure, and Regional Development (Stanford Universit y Press, 2004).

12 Kathr yn Kopinak (ed.), The Social Cos t s of Indu s t r ial Grow th in Nor the r n Me x ico (ucsd Center for US- Mexican Studies, 2006).

13 Sklair, Assembling for Development , 11. Josh Kun and Fiamma Montezemolo 18 14 George Yúdice, The Expediency of Culture: Uses of Culture in the Global Era (Duke Uni- versit y Press, 2004), 288.

15 Margath A. Walker, “The Cultural Economy of a Border Re nais sance: Politics and Practices in the Cit y,” Space and Polity 11, no. 2 (2007): 185– 200.

16 Ibid., 191.

17 Tijuana Economic Development Corporation, http:// w w w .tijuana -edc .com .

18 For a different take on the ciudad de paso as it is manifest in Tijuana’s oldest residential neighborhood, La Libertad, see Omar Pimienta’s outstanding poetr y collection La Libertad: Ciudad de Paso (cecut , 2006).

19 Lawrence Herzog, “Global Tijuana: The Seven Ecologies of the Border,” in Michael Dear and Gustavo LeClerc (eds.), Postborder City: Cultural Spaces of Bajalta California (Routledge, 2003), 120.

20 Cited in Alexis McCrossen (ed.), Land of Necessity: Consumer Culture in the United States– Mexico Borderlands (Duke Universit y Press, 2009), 34.

21 Harvey, Space s of Hope .

22 Ibid., 3.

23 Andreas Huyssen, Other Cities, Other Worlds: Urban Imaginaries in a Globalizing Age (Duke Universit y Press, 2008), 15.

24 Michael Stepner and Paul Fiske, “San Diego and Tijuana,” in Global City Regions:

Their Emerging Forms (Spon Press, 2000); Kevin Lynch and Donald Appleyard, Tem- porary Paradise? A Look at the Spatial Landscape of the San Diego Region (Report to the Cit y of San Diego, 1974).

25 Lawrence Herzog, “The Transfrontier Metropolis,” Harvard Design Magazine, no. 1 (Winter/Spring 1997), 2.

26 Dear and Leclerc, Postborder City .

27 Ruth Wilson Gilmore, “Fatal Couplings of Power and Difference: Notes on Rac- ism and Geography,” Professional Geographer 54, no. 1 (2002): 16.

28 Josiah M. Heyman and Robert Pallitto, “Theorizing Cross- Border Mobilit y: Sur- veillance, Securit y, and Identit y,” Surveillance and Society 5, no. 3 (2008): 318.

29 Alejandro Lugo, Fragmented Lives, Assembled Parts: Culture, Capitalism, and Conquest at the US- Mexico Border (Universit y of Texas Press, 2008).

30 Tito Alegría, Metrópolis transfronteriza: Revisión de la hipótesis y evidencias de Tijuana, Me xico y San Diego, Estados Unidos ( colef, 2009), 24.

31 For just t wo of many examples of the press attention paid to Tijuana’s “hot” arts and culture scenes, see William L. Hamilton, “It’s Hot. It’s Hip. It’s Tijuana?” New York Times, August 25, 2006; and Elisabeth Malkin, “Tijuana Transforms into a Cultural Hotbed,” New York Times, June 8, 2006.

32 Heriberto Yépez, Made in Tijuana (icbc , 2005), 67.

33 Néstor García Canclini, Culturas hí bridas: Estrategias para entrar y salir de la moderni- dad (Grijalbo, 1990), 233.

34 In his 1990 book, Michael Dear, The Postmodern Urban Condition (John Wiley, 2000), 174– 75, continues this idea by making Tijuana a key case study for his analysis of postmodern urbanism.

35 Diana Palaversich, De Macondo a McOndo: Senderos de la postmodernidad latinoameri- cana (Plaza y Valdes, 2005), 172. introduction19 36 For example, see Guillermo Gómez- Peña, Warrior for Gringostroika (Gray wol f, 1993); and Gomez- Peña, The New World Border (Cit y Lights, 1996).

37 Palaversich, De Macondo a McOndo , 172.

38 Nicolai Ourossoff, “Shant ytowns as a New Suburban Ideal,” New York Times, March 12, 2006.