Unstoppable violence in Guayaquil, the ghost city where everyone with a tattoo is a suspect

Lance Corporal William, a stocky, taciturn young man, like the men of another era, carries a Heckler & Koch rifle on his shoulder. He knows that at the slightest opportunity “the enemy must be killed.” Shoot first, ask questions later. This is the mantra of the Ecuadorian Armed Forces these days. This morning, with the sun beating down, he mans in a checkpoint at the door of a seafood market, the Caraguay, which is at the mouth of the port of Guayaquil and smells of saltpeter. Fish vendors dismantle a Christmas tree topped with a crab dressed as Santa Claus. William spots a cab driver with tattoos on his arms in the distance and pulls him over. He checks, at a glance, that they are not of eagles or lions, the favored tattoos of members of Ecuador’s most dangerous gangs, those that have defied the state with bombs and assaults on hospitals, and lets him go. The cab driver, before accelerating, shouts through the window:

— Go to Pablo Neruda Avenue, by the iron factory. The lagartos [a street gang] are over there.

— What are they doing?

— They’re asking drivers for money. If they don’t pay up, they kill them. They asked one for $1,000!

In Guayaquil, the most populated city in the country, whose port makes it a strategic location for drug trafficking, confusion reigns. A few days ago, Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa declared that the nation is at war after the two main criminal gangs in the country, Los Choneros and Los Lobos, took control of the prisons and took to the streets to sow chaos.

It was a demonstration of the strength the gangs have been accumulating over the last five years, during which they have taken over ports, entire neighborhoods, businesses and fleets of cab drivers. Along the way they have infiltrated the country’s main institutions: they have judges, police, generals, prosecutors, and congressmen on their payroll. They have had presidential candidates and councilmen who do not agree with them killed. In areas under their control, the morgue van does not enter to pick up the corpses until it receives authorization. Sometimes the family itself buries their loved ones in a pine box, with no death certificate on record. A ghostly light shines over these neighborhoods, which are off-limits to the rest of society.

Gustavo Lopez, 22, lives in Durán, the most dangerous municipality in Ecuador. The city’s mayor lives in hiding, in exile, aware that he faces a death sentence. A few months ago, one of his councilmen was kidnapped and found dead days later. He had been tortured. No ransom was demanded. The Chone Killers and the Latin Kings fight with bullets on every street corner. Gustavo barely goes out, only to go to the store to buy a few beers, then he goes straight home. He is surprised when he sees boys who used to play soccer together when they were kids killing each other in a small dirt field. He never wears a helmet when he rides a motorcycle in case someone mistakes him for a gang member. He has a tattoo that means “loyalty” in Japanese.

These days, anyone with a tattoo is a suspect. He says that if he is stopped by the police, he gives them his cell phone to check. His brother, who six years ago got a tattoo of a lion and an eagle, when that meant nothing, doesn’t go outdoors. Gustavo, on the other hand, has reopened his telephone repair shop: “With God’s blessing and faith we go out to work.”

For 72 hours, Guayaquil seemed like a ghost town. Businesses closed and people took refuge in their homes. At night, with the curfew in place from 11 p.m. to 5 a.m., the streets were deserted. Only essential workers — doctors, garbage collectors — and airport cab drivers can go out. The police in charge of tourism have taken over the hotels, which have metal detectors at the door: 10 policemen guard the entrance of the Hilton and three others keep guard on the roof. An army is stationed in front of the house where the president, the son of the richest businessman in the country, Álvaro Noboa, lives.

“Is this the president’s building?” “This one and the one next to it are his. Well, actually, all of Ecuador is his,” jokes a marine, whose face is hidden behind a balaclava. On his forehead he wears a GoPro camera. The president has asked the military to take charge of security, given the lack of effectiveness of the police. Soldiers patrol with automatic weapons, in convoys. They scare the criminals, but also the citizens, who know they are trigger-happy. On Thursday, in the center and south of Guayaquil, three alleged members of Los Lobos were arrested, who apparently acknowledged their affiliation to the gang. The night was busier in Quito, where a motorcyclist attacked a police station with explosives.

The authorities have set out to reclaim the prisons, where riots occasionally break out, causing dozens of deaths. Inmates kill each other with knives for control of the wings. The decapitated heads of the losing side end up in the toilet. From there, as contradictory as it may seem, the gangs rule organized crime in Ecuador. In one cell, the assassination of presidential candidate Fernando Villavicencio — an investigative journalist who had brought to light the relationship between politicians and criminals — was orchestrated during the campaign. The leaders of Los Choneros and Los Lobos, José Adolfo Macías Villamar, alias Fito, and Fabricio Colón Pico, escaped from prison days ago. It is assumed that they walked out of the prison door, with a red carpet. President Noboa has said that the authorities will try to retake control, with blood and fire if necessary. His two predecessors promised the same thing, without any success.

In the seafood market, where live crabs are sold in bunches, no one says anything. At the sound of military boots there is silence. The fishermen and vendors remain mute behind their aquamarine tiled stalls. It is no secret that the gang members arrive every Saturday, at 4 p.m., to collect protection money. To rebel is to put a noose around one’s neck. In April of last year, a group of 30 hitmen killed nine fishermen in a hail of bullets. The homicidal fury has taken over Ecuador as a whole. People are witnessing in disbelief, live and in real time, before the eyes of an astonished world, the decomposition of an entire country.

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