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DUKAS_136519494_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Mexican troops arrive in El Aguaje as part of efforts to wrestle back control of Mexico’s highly strategic hot lands from the drug cartels. Photograph: Emilio Espejel/The Guardian
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DUKAS_136519493_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Mexican troops arrive in El Aguaje as part of efforts to wrestle back control of Mexico’s highly strategic hot lands from the drug cartels. Photograph: Emilio Espejel/The Guardian
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519507_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Mexican troops arrive in El Aguaje as part of efforts to wrestle back control of Mexico’s highly strategic hot lands from the drug cartels. Photograph: Emilio Espejel/The Guardian
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519490_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Father Gilberto Vergara, a Catholic priest in the municipality to which El Limoncito belongs, said it was impossible to know how many lives had been lost in the ongoing battle for the region. Photograph: Emilio Espejel/The Guardian
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DUKAS_136519488_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A few miles out of town, hot land residents had built a roadside shrine to Jude the Apostle, the patron saint of desperate cases and lost causes.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519504_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.In Aguililla, a picturesque town 25 miles south of Limoncito, troops had occupied the main plaza and were offering free haircuts and check-ups in a bid to win hearts and minds in a community for decades under cartel control.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519492_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.The abandoned home of a watermelon farmer in El Limoncito, a Mexican village destroyed by the arrival of the country’s drug conflict.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519505_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.The abandoned home of a watermelon farmer in El Limoncito, a Mexican village destroyed by the arrival of the country’s drug conflict.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519506_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.The abandoned home of a watermelon farmer in El Limoncito, a Mexican village destroyed by the arrival of the country’s drug conflict.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519456_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A vehicle blocks the rural road out of El Limoncito towards a region soldiers warned had been peppered with land mines by cartel operatives.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519503_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Abandoned homes in the Mexican village of El Limoncito – a rural backwater that has been transformed into a ghost town by Mexico’s drug conflict and a deadly struggle for power between two cartels.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519502_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Inside a Kindergarten over a whiteboard, an intruder has scribbled a tribute to one of Mexico’s most wanted men. “Pura Gente Del Sen?or de los Gallos,” it says, in reference to El Mencho’s nickname: “The Lord of the Roosters”.
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DUKAS_136519453_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Graffiti pays homage to Mexico’s Jalisco New Generation cartel in an abandoned home in El Limoncito.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519454_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A vehicle blocks the rural road out of El Limoncito towards a region soldiers warned had been peppered with land mines by cartel operatives.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519489_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A vehicle blocks the rural road out of El Limoncito towards a region soldiers warned had been peppered with land mines by cartel operatives.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
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DUKAS_136519484_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Sun-light pours through dozens of bullet holes in El Limoncito’s small Catholic church – one of dozens of buildings that was deserted when residents fled deadly clashes between cartel gunmen for control of this strategic region in western Mexico. .
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519487_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.An image of Santa Muerte, the goddess of death widely revered by Mexican drug traffickers, in an abandoned cartel safehouse in the town of Aguaje in Mexico’s Michoaca?n state.
© Emilio Espejel / Guardian / eyevine
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DUKAS_136519423_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A sign with bullet impact holes arches over a two-lane road welcoming El Aguaje, Mexico visitors. Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519426_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.An abandoned primary school in El Limoncito that found itself on the front line of Mexico’s narco wafr in 2019 as two of the country’s biggest cartels battled for control of the highly strategic smuggling region Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519455_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Mexican troops occupy the bullet-riddled Revolution primary school in El Limoncito in an attempt to regain control of the area amidst a wave of violence. Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519483_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Mexican troops arrive in El Limoncito as part of efforts to wrestle back control of Mexico’s highly strategic hot lands from the drug cartels. Photograph: Emilio Espejel/The Guardian
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DUKAS_136519452_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.An abandoned primary school in El Limoncito that found itself on the front line of Mexico’s narco wafr in 2019 as two of the country’s biggest cartels battled for control of the highly strategic smuggling region Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519485_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Bullet-rifdled buldings in El Limoncito – a rural backwater that has been transformed into a ghost town by Mexico’s drug conflict.
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DUKAS_136519427_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A sign bid farewell to El Aguaje, with bullet impact holes arches over a two-lane road. Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519482_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A sign with bullet impact holes arches over a two-lane road welcoming El Aguaje, Mexico visitors. Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian.
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DUKAS_136519451_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.People dance during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519477_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.People dance during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519425_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.People dance during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519479_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A musician plays the Tuba during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519501_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.People during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519450_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Self-defense groups maintain surveillance at a checkpoint in the municipality of Tancitaro, Michoacan, as a protection measure for the avocado community that has suffered threats from criminal groups in recent years.
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DUKAS_136519500_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Self-defense groups maintain surveillance at a checkpoint in the municipality of Tancitaro, Michoacan, as a protection measure for the avocado community that has suffered threats from criminal groups in recent years.
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DUKAS_136519478_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Residents from Tancitaro during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519449_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.A man wears a pistol chain during February 14 in a regional party in the municipality of Tancitaro, Mexico. Tancitaro is known for providing the biggest avocado production in Michoacan state.
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DUKAS_136519424_EYE
Battle-scarred ghost town bears mute witness to Mexico’s drug wars. The army has reclaimed the village school that became a battlefield but few believe gangs’ bloody reign has ended
Those who knew El Limoncito remember a welcoming and industrious community of lime farmers who poured their sweat into the soils of Mexico’s sun-baked backlands in search of a better life. Then the drug conflict exploded and everything changed. The village’s primary school found itself on the frontline of a six-hour Monday morning gunfight that sparked a ferocious two-year struggle for control of the area. As gunmen from two rival cartels – armed with .50-calibre sniper rifles and improvised tanks – fought pitched battles for El Limoncito’s dusty streets, locals fled, leaving behind everything they had. “It was all-out war,” remembered one former resident, who asked not to be named for fear of being killed. El Limoncito’s deserted schoolhouse became a base for fighters from one of the warring factions – then a blood-spattered graveyard after their enemies stormed its classrooms in an attempt to retake the village. Family homes became makeshift forts used to spray invaders with gunfire. The pale yellow chapel was peppered with bullets and robbed of its flock.Hipo?lito Mora, a lime farmer who became famous for leading a paramilitary uprising against drug cartels in west Mexico nearly a decade ago, says he believes the security situation is even worse there today as organized crime groups struggle for control. Photograph by: Emiliano Espejel / The Guardian
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DUKAS_127875336_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
The unfinished house of a Camorra boss in Castel Volturno, a city about 50 kilometres north of Naples. About 24,000 illegal constructions have been built on this coast with the support of mobsters
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DUKAS_127875522_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
One of the 24.000 illegal buildings erected on the coast of Castel Volturno. Most of these houses were built with the support of the Mafia bosses. The Camorra, the neapolitan Mafia, had taken over the sand quarries in the area with which they produced cement. If you wanted to build an illegal house here, you had to buy Camorra cement, you had to use workers from companies linked to the Camorra.
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DUKAS_127875379_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
One of the thousands of illegal villas built on the shore of Castel Volturno with the alleged support of the Camorra. Many of them have been confiscated or seized and others have succumbed to neglect, whose ruins are spread over 27 kilometres of beach like archaeological artifacts from a post-apocalypse disaster.
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DUKAS_127875378_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
The dilapidated house of a Camorra mobster in Castel Volturno, a city about 50 kilometres north of Naples. About 24,000 illegal constructions have been built on this coast. Thousands have been confiscated or seized and others, like this one, have succumbed to neglect.
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DUKAS_127875525_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
The dilapidated house of a Camorra mobster in Castel Volturno, a city about 50 kilometres north of Naples. About 24,000 illegal constructions have been built on this coast. Thousands have been confiscated or seized and others, like this one, have succumbed to neglect.
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DUKAS_127875454_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
The dilapidated house of a Camorra mobster in Castel Volturno, a city about 50 kilometres north of Naples. About 24,000 illegal constructions have been built on this coast. Thousands have been confiscated or seized and others, like this one, have succumbed to neglect.
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DUKAS_127875449_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
Vegetation taking over an abandoned villa owned by a Camorra boss in Castel Volturno. Like many others, the building has been confiscated and eventually succumbed to neglect.
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(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875534_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
A house confiscated from a boss of the Ndrangheta, near Filandari, in Calabria. Bosses of the Calabrian Mafia, don't flaunt their symbolic power by building enormous villas. The ÕNdrangheta knows well that an exquisite home or an imposing villa generates envy, a sentiment that Calabrian bosses want to avoid spreading within the general population.
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(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875335_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
At the end of the 1970s, the Mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Òthe PopeÓ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizza Sella,a splendid cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates over the city. When the authorities began to investigate the corrupt building scheme, it was already too late. Half of them had been completed, and the other half remained unfinished. Today Pizzo Sella, which has gone down in history as the Òhill of dishonourÓ, is an ancestral place straight out of a horror film: the rotting skeletons of 170 villas, some of which confiscated by the authorities, but never razed, serve as shelters for birds and rats and have become an open-air rubbish heap.
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Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
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http://www.eyevine.com
(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875508_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
At the end of the 1970s, the Mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Òthe PopeÓ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizza Sella,a splendid cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates over the city. When the authorities began to investigate the corrupt building scheme, it was already too late. Half of them had been completed, and the other half remained unfinished. Today Pizzo Sella, which has gone down in history as the Òhill of dishonourÓ, is an ancestral place straight out of a horror film: the rotting skeletons of 170 villas, some of which confiscated by the authorities, but never razed, serve as shelters for birds and rats and have become an open-air rubbish heap.
© Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
E: info@eyevine.com
http://www.eyevine.com
(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875435_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the Mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Òthe PopeÓ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizza Sella,a splendid cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates over the city. When the authorities began to investigate the corrupt building scheme, it was already too late. Half of them had been completed, and the other half remained unfinished. Today Pizzo Sella, which has gone down in history as the Òhill of dishonourÓ, is an ancestral place straight out of a horror film: the rotting skeletons of 170 villas, some of which confiscated by the authorities, but never razed, serve as shelters for birds and rats and have become an open-air rubbish heap.
© Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
E: info@eyevine.com
http://www.eyevine.com
(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875496_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
At the end of the 1970s, the Mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Òthe PopeÓ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizza Sella,a splendid cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates over the city. When the authorities began to investigate the corrupt building scheme, it was already too late. Half of them had been completed, and the other half remained unfinished. Today Pizzo Sella, which has gone down in history as the Òhill of dishonourÓ, is an ancestral place straight out of a horror film: the rotting skeletons of 170 villas, some of which confiscated by the authorities, but never razed, serve as shelters for birds and rats and have become an open-air rubbish heap.
© Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
E: info@eyevine.com
http://www.eyevine.com
(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875450_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
A villa owned by one of the most hardened killers of Cosa Nostra, Giuseppe Greco, nicknamed ÒScarpuzzeddaÓ. It is almost 40 meters tall, with eight departments on 4 levels and built perched on the most beautiful cliff on the coast of Mongerbino, near Palermo. The villa, now confiscated but totally abandoned, has a cement stairway directly on the water.
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Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
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(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875545_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
An unfinished building in Via Tiro a Segno, in Palermo, enlisted among the thousands of constructions seized from the Mafia. After having taken the money for their completion, building firms tied to the Mafia left many of these constructions unfinished.
© Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
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(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
DUKAS_127875479_EYE
Buried in concrete: mafia architecture
Mobsters changed the shape of Italian cities, ravaging landscapes with concrete to affirm their authority. At the end of the 1970s, the mafia super boss Michele Greco, nicknamed Ôthe PopeÕ, gave his blessing for the construction of 314 illegal villas on Pizzo Sella, a cape on the gulf of Palermo that dominates the city.
An unfinished building in Via Tiro a Segno, in Palermo, enlisted among the thousands of constructions seized from the Mafia. After having taken the money for their completion, building firms tied to the Mafia left many of these constructions unfinished.
© Guardian / eyevine
Contact eyevine for more information about using this image:
T: +44 (0) 20 8709 8709
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http://www.eyevine.com
(FOTO: DUKAS/EYEVINE)
© Guardian / eyevine. All Rights Reserved. -
