Walking the bridge from El Paso into Ciudad Juarez, America’s number one narcotics corridor, means stepping into a world that is many times more vibrant and violent, richer and poorer, yet still strangely invisible from the other side. A vendor hawking crucifixes runs from the police. A preacher waving a Bible shames three painted girls. The rust-colored hand of a beggar pokes out from beneath an Indian shawl. A four-year-old boy in a Joe Camel cap wanders the streets after midnight while his father sings $2 love songs. Then there are the dead bodies; the famous and the infamous and the anonymous gunned down in restaurants, stuffed into trunks, dumped in the street, sometimes choked with wire or burned by acid, often with their hands taped, legs bound, and heads hooded. While the typical headline shouts, “Another Victim”, this is all just business as usual. Since August of 1993, approximately 370 women have been murdered, of which at least 137 were sexually assaulted prior to death. Many of Mexico’s non-governmental organizations believe the number of missing women to be more than 400. Of these 400 women, 75 bodies have been impossible to confirm because of such little evidence they have to identify them with.
Most of the targeted victims are aged from 14 to 25 and are attractive women attending school, waitressing, or working at one of the city’s largest export assembly plants known as Maquiladora’s. Maquiladora’s are foreign-owned assembly plants for export products set up by multinational companies. Because of the Maquiladora shift work, many women are forced to travel long distances to and from work between dusk and dawn. Although the factories provide limited shuttle bus services, many of the women still have to travel between their homes and bus terminals involving unlit and very dangerous routes. It is normally during this journey that many of the women disappear. Many women without jobs travel from all over Mexico just