It was fourteen years ago when a friend from El Paso suggested I read the book, Murder City, Ciudad Juárez and the Global Economy’s New Killing Fields by the late Charles Bowden. The key section was about a mental asylum called Visión en Acción located in the desert on the west edge of Juárez and founded by an ex-addict and friend of Bowden’s named José Antonio Galván.
By chance, Bowden came to Santa Fe to give a lecture. We met and he sent an introduction to Galván. Then on February 24, 2011, Galván picked me up in El Paso in a little red car and we crossed the border and drove to the asylum. He’s a big man, was dressed in black and had a US Special Forces pin in his lapel in honor of his son, José who just retired from an Army career. That pin immediately bonded us because I served briefly in the 5th Special Forces years ago.
It was a mad house. In fact, Galván used that word – manicomio – to describe it. The patients swarmed around me. But I realized even then that, despite the stark conditions, they were better off than those who lived in the surrounding neighborhood in terms of physical safety, decent housing, food, clothing and medical care.
I also realized that I would be coming back and, in fact, have visited at least once a month, excepting for COVID, ever since, bringing food and clothing, writing articles to support Galván’s work, and raising money. In fact, my wife and I have been able to raise money for:
A separate eating area for older patients
A living area for women with dementia so they didn’t continue having to be housed with male patients.
A dormitory for 24 other women.
The facility houses some 120 patients, making it the largest mental health facility in Juárez ( pop. 1.6 million) and it has survived for almost thirty years with almost no government support. The cost per patient per day is a fraction of what it is at the state hospital in Pueblo, Colorado, for example, where I used to have patient/clients when I was a Public Defender. Some of this is simply necessity but the results can be very positive.

For example:
Work
To the extent possible, Galván gives every patient some task, whether it be working in the kitchen, general cleaning, bringing in firewood, taking freshly washed blankets out into the desert to dry and then bringing them in in the evening, helping bathe and shave the more incapacitated patients. Work brings dignity and a sense of purpose, he believes.
Management
The day-to-day manager is a woman named Viridiana ( Viri) Torres who came to Visión en Acción seven years ago as a patient with a long bi-polar history. Galván quickly recognized her talents and initially had her do bookkeeping. She almost immediately discovered that his second in command had been stealing and he was fired. Now she is the manager.
In fact, she was the one who brought attention to the plight of the women patients which resulted in the construction projects I mentioned earlier.
Patients caring for other patients
I was there one brutally hot July day when eight heavily armed Juárez police officers arrived in two black cars to deliver a burly woman named Marta to Galván. Patients bathed her, gave her clean clothing and trimmed her ragged fingernails but when they tried to do her bloody toenails, she broke free and ran across the patio. If this had been a facility in the US, several attendants would have subdued and given her a shot. Instead, two tiny sisters, Elia and Leticia sat quietly on either side of her until she calmed down.
( Leticia has passed away but Elia lives in the 24 woman dormitory, is failing now and the other women patients are caring for her.)
This happens all the time. In all of my visits, I have once seen a patient strike out at another one.

Photography
This is never permitted in US mental facilities but here I believe that it has therapeutic value if done respectfully and with the patient’s permission. Many of the patients feel that they are ugly and worthless yet when they see themselves in a print that I bring them, they realize that they are actually quite attractive or handsome. They often also feel that they are alone and without friends. That’s why a group picture of them with others, laughing and with their arms around each other is valuable.
The question now is whether or not this can continue. Most of the programs in Juárez and Palomas that we assist are characterized by the persistence of their founders. Galván has run Visión en Acción for about thirty years. How long can he go on? Does Viri have the skills to completely take over. Most important, will Mexico’s new president, Claudia Sheinbaum see mental health as a priority and try to build a system, incorporating programs like Galván’s?
Another issue. Many of the newer patients are young women who have had drug problems. What happens when they have had some measure of recovery and are ready to go home? There is no system that includes after-care, no one to check on them to see that they don’t relapse and go back into the dangerous streets of Juárez. As a result, two women patients have relapsed, ventured out at night and been murdered.
As I write this on Christmas Day, I am also planning another trip but this time the goal is to check on Galván, not just his patients. He is one of many individuals in Juárez who have taken on heroic tasks of assistance to the needy. What can be done to help him continue this important work?

Editor’s Note: The above guest column was penned by Morgan Smith, who writes frequently on border issues and can be reached at Morgan-smith@comcast.net. The column appears in the Rio Grande Guardian with the permission of the author.
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