January 31, 2005

On a recent trip to the American Southwest, I ended up taking an unplanned jaunt across the border into Mexico. I wasn't looking for tequila, marijuana, or sexual companionship -- just some other things that I can't buy in the U.S. without a permission slip (a prescription from an M.D.). Having traveled throughout Mexico some years ago, I had a good idea of what to expect from the trip. However, my experiences surpassed my recollections; they unequivocally demonstrated the power of free markets, and bolstered my confidence in Mexican free-market medicine.

Many people think of places like Tijuana when this subject arises, and shudder to contemplate going there. I've not visited that city, so I can't comment on it specifically. However, when I visited Mexico the first time -- on that extended stay -- the city we crossed into was probably similar to it. A lot of tourists were there to party, and the town struck me as ugly. To be fair, Mexican culture is very different from American culture, and the difference is immediately apparent wherever you cross. The towns are dirtier, and in general more raucous than American towns of similar size. Hawking goods and services is much more socially acceptable and common in Mexico.

That said, there are better places to cross than any of the major border towns, if all you want to do is get medical supplies or services. Our maps showed no Mexican border town on the road we planned to take in to Mexico -- just a border outpost that closed at 10 p.m. Talking to the locals before we left, we knew that wasn't accurate. A once-sleepy town had become a hotspot for a wide variety of pharmaceuticals, and other medical goods and services.

The Mexican government had no presence at the border -- absolutely none. We simply walked in to the country. Upon doing so, we were immediately aurally assaulted by a cacophony of voices calling, imploring, urging us to visit this pharmacy, or that doctor. Every Mexican, it seemed, had an "opinion", likely fostered by some coin crossing his palm, as to what pharmacia was best. Vendors lined the streets, selling all manner of items, from leather goods to knives to clothing and pottery. They, too, hawked their wares vociferously.

I chose the largest pharmacy in the town, after stepping into a few to see how they were run. All were organized just like every pharmacy I'd been to in Mexico -- clean, neat, and well-staffed. I asked for the items I wanted; I received factory sealed boxes with expiration dates that were sufficiently distant for me. The pharmacy offered, for an additional fee, a consultation that would provide me with prescriptions for the medicines I wanted; I declined that service. (That's to help decrease the likelihood that the U.S. border thugs will steal one's pharmaceuticals when returning to this "land of the free.") I paid for the items -- in dollars -- then stepped to the other side of the building, where a large selection of liquors was available at very low prices.

Re-entering the U.S. was a potentially tricky proposition, especially for me. The border thugs kept a watchful eye on individuals crossing the border, we knew, but we couldn't tell in advance how watchful those eyes were. Having a long record of speaking against the state behind me, I wondered what might happen if they were to ask me for ID, and check it in their computers ... Those concerns turned out to be unfounded, as the guard merely asked what I had in my shopping bag (the medicines were well hidden away) and didn't even bother to listen to my answer, as he was anticipating hassling the obviously non-American woman behind me in line. (Sure enough, his delighted, loud, "Aha!" told me she'd have to produce her papers.)

Upon returning to our base of operations, I opened the boxes of medicine, and found pristine, factory-sealed bottles inside. Later, at dinner with our hosts, I discovered that they, along with some of their friends, had availed themselves of Mexican dental services. The ensuing conversation proved most informative, and bolstered my confidence in exploring that realm at some future date.

Many individuals seem to be unnecessarily scared of using the Mexican market for health care and products. A bit of rational thought, and careful practices, should be sufficient to keep one clear of the trouble areas that do exist. For example, if you wouldn't buy medicine from some unknown guy on a street in New York or St. Louis, why would you do so in a Mexican town? Stick to the reputable-looking places and you should have few (if any) problems. If you want to find a good doctor or dentist, do your homework first; ask around for recommendations and experiences. Once at the office, observe its appearance and the practices of the staff; if you see things you aren't comfortable with, walk away. (Unlike the filth of the streets, most Mexican homes and offices are immaculately clean.)

Businesses -- and towns such as the one I visited -- have sprung up in Mexico to provide services for those willing to pay for them. While there are undoubtedly some individuals trying to defraud customers, most are reputable, and further, understand market principles better than many American businesses. They don't have a powerful federal government to run to for protection or favors, so they know that their success or failure depends upon having satisfied customers who then recommend them to others. Just as in the U.S., if something seems too good to be true, it probably is; back-alley deals should earn your caution; check around, ask questions, and get opinions of others who've used the services you're considering. And enjoy the benefits of the freer Mexican market for health care, while it lasts.

Editor's Note: The end of it will probably come when enough Americans who are careless and/or dishonest complain to the U.S. government and work to shut down these free market border services. On the other hand, if enough Americans decide to practice personal responsibility and repudiate the strangle hold the government has on their lives and property, we might begin to see the free market return to American towns and cities across the country. What a lovely thought.

You might remember that the next time you are standing in line at the pharmacy with your "permission slip", contemplating paying an arm and a leg for medicine you can't get any other way - unless you can manage a trip to Mexico.

Sunni's Endervidualism Article Archive

Sunni Maravillosa is the co-founder of the Liberty Round Table, publisher of Doing Freedom!, and maintains a blog and personal web site. She's also editor of CASPIAN's newsletter on consumer privacy.

Archives

Do It Your
Way

I'm Only Interested in Freedom

Law and Liberty

Git Yer Hands Out of my Pockets!

Tactics and hypocrisy

Privacy's Canaries

Permission Slips

Charges don't serve justice

Speechless

Book Review: Mallcity 14 By Shaun A. Saunders

Book Review: The Black Arrow by Vin Suprynowicz

Balance of Power: Political Power

The FDA is Going to Kill Me