The situation they are facing, say Klix Kaltenmark and Xabier Pagazaurtundúa, is all too common in attractive parts of Guadalajara.
But the boutique hotel owner and architect, both residents of the genteel Colonia Lafayette near the U.S. Consulate and active in a neighborhood association, are hoping to bring the matter to a conclusion different from the usual one.
“It happened with the new high-rises on Chapultepec. It’s happening with Casa Madonna,” says Kaltenmark, showing a photo of the older home turned boutique hotel that is now dwarfed in the shadow of a multi-story building going up just feet away from the window of what was once a guest room.
Because a 15-story apartment tower has been proposed for the small lot next to his peach-tone Villa Ganz, Kaltenmark fears the same fate will befall the building he rescued about 15 years ago, invested in heavily, and transformed into a hotel that, he notes, is “rated number one on tripadvisor.com.“Check it out,” he adds. (I did. It is.)
So he and Pagazaurtundúa, who is president of a tiny group of residents and business owners, Asociación de Vecinos Lafayette, are bucking City Hall and state officials, asking them to put a stop to the project proposed for the corner of Lopez Cotilla and Simon Bolivar, on a small lot once occupied by El Globo bakery. Kaltenmark has put up a bright yellow banner in front of Villa Ganz, asking authorities to respect laws already in place against buildings that are not harmonious with their surroundings and are too tall for their locations.
“I’m well protected by the existing laws, except that authorities are not enforcing them. We want to shame them into doing their jobs,” he said.
He pointed out that city and state norms only permit tall buildings on wide streets, and that Lopez Cotilla, in the popular restaurant and bar sector known as Zona Rosa that is set to be transformed into a pedestrian walkway, only qualifies for a 3- or 4-story building. “I would be okay with a smaller building,” especially one made of materials harmonious with the neo-classic tenor of the zone.
“I’ve been told there are 20 more high-rises that have been given the go-ahead here in the colonia,” says Pagaz (who sometimes goes by the short form of his Basque name). Local business people point out that many newly constructed big buildings around Guadalajara are begging for tenants, but it doesn’t matter to their owners who are simply looking to park their wad elsewhere than under their mattresses or in a regulated institution and then sell in a few years, leaving a clean trail confounding snoopy authorities.
“They choose this area because it is so attractive, with a nice mix of homes, businesses and trees,” added Pagaz. He points out that, ironically, investors in over-the-top buildings are destroying the very thing that makes the area attractive.
“Do they want to turn this into Singapore?” asked Kaltenmark. “We residents need to ask ourselves, is the centro historico going to be history?”
He notes that in meetings with officials, including the sympathetic architect Carlos Ramirez, head of the Patronato Centro Historico, he has learned that in City Hall there are conflicting visions about the future of the city.
But no matter what their vision, many officials fail to realize that the infrastructure, such as storm water drainage and electricity, is terribly inadequate for multi-story buildings, Kaltenmark underscores.
“It’s like the Olympic Village that they built on the west side,” he adds. The new Panamerican Games apartment complex now stands empty because, once it was built, people realized “it is in the water tank of Guadalajara, where water comes from the Primavera forest.”
“This colonia was designed for less than 40 people per block. We already exceed this, at about 80 people per block,” says Pagaz, “and the infrastructure hasn’t been improved in 40 years. The proposed building next to Villa Ganz will have 21 apartments.”
“The traffic here is already terrible and our streets turn into raging rapids during storms,” said Kaltenmark. “What if the sewage gets into the drinking water?”
The system regulating construction made headlines earlier this year when Guadalajara’s director of Public Works, Carlos Felipe Arias, was fired after being accused of improperly handing out building permits.
“The building we are protesting was one of those approved by Arias before he got sacked,” said Kaltenmark. He noted that Arias’ firing, prompted by an association of neighborhood associations and a few regidores (city councilors), had no lasting effect because the buildings Arias pushed forward are still being constructed. “In fact, one of the arguments used for going ahead with illegal building is that Juan Perez was allowed to construct his tall building, so, since we are all equal under the law, I must be allowed to construct mine.”
“It’s illogical,” Pagaz chimed in. “They claim they are acting on a principle in the Mexican Constitution called equidad en el derecho (equality under law). It’s like saying that if someone commits murder and gets away with it, everyone else is permitted to commit murder.”
Kaltenmark noted that even the courts are not a refuge for citizens trying to stop illegal building.
“The high-rises on Chapultepec were contested in the tribunal (TAE or Tribunal de lo Administrativo del Estado de Jalisco) by the neighborhood organization and they won,” he said. “It was recognized by the court as illegal and the permits as fraudulent. But the building had already started and no official had the guts to do what they should and stop it.”
Kaltenmark continued: “Officials are in office for a few months or years. They only have a little time to make money, and they make it by selling permits.
“These projects are going to transform the city.”
Added Pagaz: “We’re asking for accountability. When officials sell out, it’s worse than simply stealing. They’re betraying their mission. It’s treason.
“We’re defending a way of life, a way of thinking,” he added.