From 2019 to 2024, the Tecate Brewery in Baja California replenished 800,000 cubic meters of water, equivalent to 800 million liters. (Heineken)
Heineken México is touting its water management programs as its Baja California plant has become the beer company’s first to meet long-term water balance goals.
Last week, Heineken Mexico CEO Oriol Bonaclocha announced the Tecate Brewery’s water balance achievement, explaining that it was replenishing nature with water in an equal amount to what it uses to make its product.
La Cervecería Tecate se convierte en la primera planta de HEINEKEN en América Latina en reabastecer a la naturaleza la totalidad del agua contenida en sus productos | #Interés – | Más info…> https://t.co/FlagBTnpThpic.twitter.com/HkoFV6LJtG
“The Tecate plant has achieved water balance, which means that all the water we use to make our beers is being returned,” said Oriol Bonaclocha.
Heineken’s “Delivering a Better World” sustainability strategy seeks to integrate economic growth with responsible practices, including the company’s commitment to water efficiency.
“A company’s economic growth does not have to be disconnected from growth that is sustainable and responsible,” Bonaclocha said.
Heineken México Sustainability Director Inti Pérez said the goal is for all operations located in water-stressed areas to replenish 100% of the water used in making its beers.
Speaking at an event linked to the Colorado River Basin restoration project, Bonaclocha said the 80-year-old Tecate plant is the first Heineken plant in Latin America to achieve water balance.
“All the water we use to build and brew our beers is being returned,” Bonaclocha said of the Tecate plant. “We are the first in the Americas to achieve that water balance.”
From 2019 to 2024, the Tecate plant replenished 800,000 cubic meters of water, equivalent to 800 million liters.
The progress there stems from the plant’s circularity and reuse actions, as well as external environmental restoration projects carried out since 2018 in partnership with the Restauremos el Colorado organization.
A few weeks earlier, at the eighth edition of “Los Bóscares” (a play on the Spanish word for forest — “bosque” — and The Oscars) co-sponsored by Reforestamos México and Mexico’s National Forestry Commission, Heineken México’s “Healthy Watersheds: Water Balancing” project was recognized for producing a positive impact on the country’s forests, watersheds and ecosystems.
The project strives to balance the water content of its products in water-stressed areas where the company operates through reforestation, soil conservation and ecological restoration, while also returning water to ecosystems, allowing for recovery of dry areas and improved water flow.
In 2024, Heineken, which is expanding in Mexico, managed to replenish 77% of the water used in water-stressed areas, and plans to certify other plants in 2026 to join the Tecate plant in moving toward total water balance in all its operations.
The Dutch brewing conglomerate’s effort is also aimed at reducing consumption in its production processes. It has set goals for 2030 of consuming 2.9 liters of water per liter of beer in plants located in regions without water stress and 2.6 liters in areas with scarcity. Globally, producing one liter of beer requires as much as twice that amount —between 4 and 6 liters of water, according to the newspaper El Economista.
Here again, the Tecate plant is leading the way. It now boasts the lowest water consumption per liter of beer produced within Heineken’s brewing operations worldwide.
Carlos Manzo, seen in a photograph at his funeral, didn’t choose the bodyguards himself, according to investigations cited by the newspaper Milenio, which reported that the officers were recommended by Colonel José Manuel Jiménez Aranda, “one of his trusted men” and a former police commander. (Juan José Estrada Serafín/Cuartoscuro)
All of the slain mayor’s personal bodyguards were municipal police officers. Six of those detained are men, while one is a woman.
The FGE said that their alleged involvement in the homicide was due to “omission,” or negligence — in other words, they failed to adequately perform their protection duties.
On Saturday, a judge ruled that the seven bodyguards, as well as an alleged mastermind of Manzo’s assassination, must remain in preventive detention as the cases against them proceed.
Michoacán Governor Alfredo Ramírez said Saturday that one of Manzo’s bodyguards remained a “fugitive.”
He said that the National Guard personnel, who were also tasked with protecting the mayor, are also under investigation.
Ramírez highlighted that Manzo himself decided that his municipal police bodyguards would make up his “closer circle” of security, while the National Guard officers provided a “second circle” of protection. However, the mayor didn’t choose the bodyguards himself, according to investigations cited by the newspaper Milenio, which reported that the officers were recommended by Colonel José Manuel Jiménez Aranda, “one of his trusted men” and a former police commander.
During the Festival of Candles on Nov. 1, Manzo — an outspoken anti-crime crusader who had urged the federal government to ramp up the fight against criminal groups — was shot on multiple occasions by a 17-year-old assailant, according to authorities. The youth, identified as Víctor Manuel Ubaldo Vidales, was killed by one of Manzo’s bodyguards after he was detained, Ramírez said earlier this month.
At a hearing in a prison in Morelia on Saturday, Demetrio “N” acknowledged that he shot Ubaldo, the newspaper La Jornada reported.
He reportedly said that he attempted to take Ubaldo’s firearm from him, but as the youth was very strong, he decided to fire it.
“However,” La Jornada reported, “the FGE representative provided expert evidence revealing that the young man was killed when he was already subdued and even handcuffed, but … was still resisting.
“It was at that time that Demetrio “N” approached and fired at the hitman’s nape from 10 centimeters away, using the same weapon with which … [Ubaldo] attacked the mayor,” wrote La Jornada, citing prosecutors.
Manzo’s bodyguards allegedly prevented a paramedic from promptly providing first aid to Ubaldo after he was shot.
At the hearing on Saturday, prosecutors also alleged that the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) offered a payment of 2 million pesos (US $108,000) for the assassination of Manzo, nicknamed “The Mexican Bukele” after El Salvador President Nayib Bukele because of his hardline stance against organized crime.
A man identified as Jorge Armando “N” allegedly coordinated the hit on the mayor via a messaging app. He was arrested last week.
Federal Security Minister Omar García Harfuch told a press conference that Jorge Armando “N” had been identified as “one of the masterminds” of Manzo’s murder as well as “one of the leaders of the criminal cell that planned the homicide.”
According to prosecutors, people close to the mayor leaked information about Manzo’s movements to the CJNG.
Another alleged mastermind of the crime is Ramón Álvarez Ayala, said to be a high-ranking leader in the CJNG, whose head honcho is Nemesio “El Mencho” Oseguera Cervantes.
Álvarez and Oseguera are at large.
Two other men allegedly involved in the planning of the attack on Manzo were found dead on Nov. 10 on the Uruapan-Paracho highway in Michoacán, García Harfuch said last Wednesday. He said they were “apparently” killed to “impede the development of the investigations” into the assassination of Manzo.
On Monday, García Harfuch announced on social media that a man who allegedly recruited two people involved in the mayor’s murder had been arrested.
“In Uruapan, as part of Plan Michoacán for Peace and Justice, … [federal and state authorities] arrested Jaciel Antonio “N,” identified as a recruiter of people in [drug and alcohol] rehabilitation centers to incorporate them into crime cells,” he wrote.
“Investigation work points to Jaciel Antonio “N” as being responsible for recruiting two people who participated in the homicide of Carlos Manzo,” García Harfuch wrote.
The new U.S. embassy is located in the Nuevo Polanco area of Mexico City, north of the Polanco neighborhood. The building features solar panels and is the largest embassy in the world, according to U.S. officials. (Mario Jasso/Cuartoscuro)
It was a fascinating tour of a pretty mind-blowing building. I felt a mix of awe, pride and inspiration, but also shock at the overall design and size of the complex. Having worked in the private sector in pretty modest corporate office buildings, I had never seen anything like this. In fact, no one really has, given its size and budget.
Here are some fun facts and figures about this impressive new facility:
1. The new embassy is built in the Polanco neighborhood, just a few blocks north of the Museo Soumaya.
2. The previous embassy, which opened in 1964 and is located on Reforma Avenue next to the Angel of Independence, could literally fit in the main courtyard of the new embassy.
3. Construction on the new embassy began in 2018 and had an original planned opening date of 2022. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic and other supply chain disruptions, the new official opening date was changed to Nov. 24, 2025.
4. The new embassy building is the largest (in terms of square feet) in the world and is the largest U.S. government building outside of the United States.
5. The new office building (NOB) is close to 800,000 square feet in size and has the capacity to house 1,550 employees.
6. The new embassy is built with a life expectancy of 75+ years.
7. The new embassy will eventually have the capacity to process upwards of 4,000 visa applications per day, versus 2,500 in the previous embassy.
8. The embassy has on-site living quarters for U.S. Marines who will provide 24/7/365 security of the complex.
9. The embassy has a basketball court and two separate gyms.
10. The embassy has an on-site medical clinic for the embassy’s employees and their families.
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11. Water in the embassy is potable and there are on-site generators that can provide electricity for several weeks in the event of a power outage.
12. The embassy houses several pieces of art by both U.S. and Mexican artists.
13. The embassy has over 60 conference rooms of various sizes.
14. The final cost of the embassy will be close to US $1 billion.
15. The exterior wall of the entire complex is a beautiful sandstone from India.
16. The old embassy will be decommissioned and the site will ultimately be sold.
17. The embassy has approximately 40 different U.S. government agencies using it as a base for their Mexican operations.
The facility is definitely a testament to the significance of the U.S.-Mexico relationship.
The fact that it is now located in a neighborhood (as opposed to a thoroughfare) will make it more accessible, and the increased size will hopefully serve to help foster increased collaboration between the two countries in many areas. Check it out the next time you are in Mexico City — you are pretty guaranteed to be amazed at the building!
Travis Bembenek is the CEO of Mexico News Daily and has been living, working or playing in Mexico for nearly 30 years.
Highways in states in northern Mexico, the Bajío region, western Mexico, central Mexico, southern Mexico and southeastern Mexico were all expected to be blocked on Monday. (Beto Arias /Cuartoscuro)
Truckers and farmers are blocking highways across Mexico this Monday, Nov. 24 as they call on the federal government to combat insecurity and extortion and provide more support for producers of crops such as corn and beans.
The megabloqueo, or mega-blockade, was expected to shut down highways in the majority of Mexico’s 32 federal entities.
Among the highways that had been blocked or partially blocked by 9 a.m. Monday were the Mexico City-Toluca highway, the Mexico City-Puebla highway and the Mexico City-Querétaro highway.
Highways in states in northern Mexico, the Bajío region, western Mexico, central Mexico, southern Mexico and southeastern Mexico were all expected to be blocked on Monday.
The main organizations participating in the nationwide protest are the ANTAC truckers’ association, the National Front for the Rescue of the Countryside (FNRCM) and the Movimiento Agrícola Campesino (MAC), a farmers’ group.
He said that truckers are also commonly extorted by state and municipal police at roadblocks.
“Insecurity has increased since the past six-year term of government and shows no sign of stopping,” Estévez said, adding that between 54 and 70 trucks are robbed on a daily basis.
Transportistas y campesinos bloquearon al menos 36 puntos en 17 estados del país
La México-Toluca y la México-Querétaro, entre las más afectadas
Truckers are also demanding that authorities improve the processes to issue license plates and driver’s licenses. They say that applications for license plates and licenses have been rejected for no good reason in some cases.
Farmers are demanding greater support from the government to compensate for low prices for some crops, especially corn. In late October, farmers across Mexico took to the streets and highways to protest what they consider to be low and unsustainable prices for their produce. They have been calling on the government to increase the guaranteed purchase price for their crops. Many farmers are also opposed to proposed reforms to the National Water Law.
On Sunday night, the federal Interior Ministry (Segob) issued a statement reiterating its “full willingness” to dialogue with truckers and farmers. It proposed a meeting at the federal Interior Ministry offices in Mexico City at 11 a.m. Monday, with the government to be represented by officials from the National Water Commission, the Agriculture Ministry, the Economy Ministry and Segob.
President Claudia Sheinbaum noted that dialogue between the government, truckers and farmers has already taken place.
“They’re not blocking [highways] because there is no dialogue,” she said.
However, Jeannet Chumacero, an ANTAC vice president, said that no progress had been made on truckers’ demands after months of meetings with federal authorities. She highlighted that ordinary citizens in light vehicles have also been victims of robberies and attacks on the nation’s highways.
The purpose of the megabloqueo is to get the federal government to “pay attention” to the situation, Chumacero said. The National Guard is the main federal security force tasked with patrolling the nation’s highways and preventing crime on them.
But Chumacero said that some National Guard personnel, as well as state and municipal police officers, engage in acts of “corruption and extortion” on highways.
The highway blockades are expected to remain in place for an extended period on Monday, a situation that will be a headache, if not a nightmare, for many motorists as well as passengers on long-distance bus services. Ambulances and other emergency vehicles were expected to be allowed to pass through the roadblocks, although they too will likely face delays.
Throttle therapy isn't about destinations. It's about the roads in-between. (Charlotte Smith)
The only real plan was to sleep well the night before. Well, that, and for my boyfriend Omar and me to pack one backpack each. We’d had too many days of feeling the walls shrink and listening to that quiet inner tug that eventually turned into a roar:
“GO!!”
If you travel by back roads, it’s takes a little over 13 hours to cover the 360 miles from Puerto Vallarta (pictured here) to Guanajuato, (Unsplash/Chris McQueen)
By 5:30 a.m., we were wide awake. Omar saw the look on my face, the one that said, “I can’t believe we’re really doing this,” and he smiled as he handed me a coffee. At 6 a.m., the engine turned over, and we rolled out of Puerto Vallarta, chasing that strange mix of exhaustion and freedom that only throttle therapy can deliver.
The allure of motorcycle throttle therapy
We weren’t aiming for a beach or a town close by. We were heading inland, chasing nothing but silence and the long road between Puerto Vallarta and Guanajuato. We had one rule: No autopistas! Just backroads, curves, dust and whatever showed up between here and there.
Thirteen and a half hours later, at 7:30 p.m., we rolled into Guanajuato, dusty, starving and sore in places we didn’t know motorcycles could make you sore. But our faces bore the kinds of grins you only earn after burning across the country on stubbornness and fumes.
We’d taken Highway 544 out of Vallarta, heading east into the mountains while the rest of the city was still asleep. It’s a beautiful road that doesn’t get enough love. It’s thick with jungle, carved into the lower folds of the Sierra Madre, full of early-morning mist and just enough loose gravel to keep you humble.
The climb starts slowly. The jungle presses in, and by the time you reach Las Palmas, any remnants of the city are gone. Suddenly, the road narrows into something quieter.
From there, you roll toward San Sebastián del Oeste, a colonial mining town tucked into the hills. We didn’t stop, but we nodded at it on the way through as a respectful reminder to ourselves that this part of Jalisco still lovingly holds on to its ghosts.
‘The world opens up’
Once you’re on the road, the world opens up in ways you never expected. (Charlotte Smith)
Just past the town of Mascota, the world opens up. Pine replaces palm, and the air cools. There’s a roadside overlook with no name, just a clearing and a break in the trees. We stopped there, killed the engine, and stood in silence for a while.
The valley below was half-sunk in morning fog, the only sound the ticking of the engine cooling down. That’s the kind of moment you chase when you ride. Not the Instagram view, but the one that doesn’t need a caption.
From there, it was on through Talpa de Allende, where the road climbs in tight switchbacks, daring you to trust your tires. The forest smells like woodsmoke and pine needles, and you get the feeling that if you stopped moving, you’d hear something ancient breathing just beyond the trees.
‘The best parts aren’t planned’
We took a wrong turn after Talpa. Not on purpose, mind you, but not exactly by accident either. That’s the thing about these rides. The best parts usually aren’t planned.
We wound up on a pockmarked stretch of road heading toward Mixtlán, where the pavement turns to patches of rock and mud. We had a few close calls, including one deep puddle that nearly swallowed the rear tire, and then we were back on track with a healthy respect for how fast things can change out here.
By midday, we were rolling through the town of Ameca, sun overhead, dust in our teeth. We hadn’t eaten anything, only had that 5:30 a.m. cup of coffee at home, so we pulled over at a roadside taco stand that looked like it had seen better decades.
Road trips offer abundant opportunities to explore places that aren’t even on the map. (Charlotte Smith)
A few tacos al pastor each and a glass bottle of Coke; it could’ve been a five-star meal the way it hit. We ate sitting on mismatched plastic chairs in the shade of a tamarind tree, not talking much, just chewing, sweating and processing the miles we’d covered.
‘Stopping doesn’t feel like an option’
From Ameca, the ride gets flatter. The highlands open up into long rolling stretches that lull you into a trance. That’s when fatigue starts creeping in. Your shoulders ache, your brain slows and the road starts to feel like a loop.
We hit a stretch outside San Juan de los Lagos that tested everything: endless straightaway, wind strong enough to push the bike sideways, semis barreling down narrow lanes.
There’s no romance here, just grit. You keep going not because it’s necessarily fun but because stopping doesn’t feel like an option. And, weirdly, that’s its own kind of peace.
We didn’t talk much during those hours. Just exchanged glances and smiles at gas stops. Shared a single energy bar. Refilled our water bottles and kept going.
Throttle. Curve. Brake. Repeat. That was our mantra.
The lights of Guanajuato
Guanajuato is a welcome sight after a long ride. (Unsplash/Roberto Puga)
By the time we saw the lights of Guanajuato, the sun was bleeding into the hills and the sky had that electric-orange glow it pulls off so well. We dipped into the tunnels that crisscross under the city. Carved from stone centuries ago, the air inside felt cool. Our engine notes bounced off the walls like applause.
Exhausted didn’t even cover how we felt when we found a cheap posada near Plaza de la Paz, parked the bike, peeled off our dusty gear and limped to a tamales stand. The woman handed us each one wrapped in a steamed corn husk and smiled like she’d seen this kind of tired before.
We ate them on the curb. No plates. No small talk. Just the sound of street musicians tuning up in the distance and the ache settling into our bones.
Most people take the cuota (toll road) when they travel in Mexico. These roads are faster, easier and predictable. But they don’t heal anything.
The space between
We went to Guanajuato for the view and the museums and the brightly painted alleyways, of course. But we also went for the space between, the places in between point A and point B.
We went for the forgotten ranchos, the sharp turns that have no warning signs, the strangers who wave as we pass through towns too small to include on most maps.
Throttle therapy has the power to heal and let you see things in a whole new light. (Charlotte Smith)
We went for the ride that stripped everything away: the noise, the worry, the inbox, the pressure to always be doing something that makes sense.
Throttle therapy isn’t about motorcycles, really. It’s about the act of going, of trading comfort for clarity, speed for slowness and the known for the uncertain. It’s about finding out what your body and your brain are capable of when you don’t give them an out.
If you ever find yourself feeling a bit stuck, lost or just buzzing with a kind of restless energy you can’t shake, don’t wait for the stars to align. Don’t overplan it.
Just pack light, aim inland and ride until the road becomes your rhythm again.
Smile, downshift and remember that the road owes you nothing.
Maybe that’s exactly why it gives you so much.
Throttle Therapy Notes
Route: Puerto Vallarta > Las Palmas > San Sebastián > Mascota > Talpa > Ameca > San Juan de los Lagos > León > Guanajuato Total Ride Time: 13.5 hours Distance: 570(ish) km/360(ish) miles Fuel stops: Four Meals: Two — if you count gas station peanuts. Soreness Scale: Off the charts, but totally worth it.
Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics, and community. You can follow along with her travel stories at www.salsaandserendipity.com.
Mexico has got creative with ice cream flavors, as you might expect from a country with such a rich culinary history. (Michael Fousert/Unsplash)
Living in the Riviera Maya, I see a lot of ceviche. It’s everywhere. Even my neighbor’s son just started a ceviche business — along with the couple of hundred other places you can get ceviche in Cozumel.
So imagine my surprise when I was exploring the central highlands on a trip to Querétaro and Guanajuato and saw ceviche ice cream.
Yes, sorbets and ice creams may have meat and seafood flavours in Mexico. (Bel Woodhouse)
Whaaaaat?!! My brain tried to picture it. Citrusy, seafoody, cilantro-y ice cream? Nope, couldn’t picture it. But the lady next to me at the ice cream stand tried it and said it was “maravilloso” (marvelous). So it got me thinking.
Hmmm … am I missing out?
Along with other unique ice cream flavors like shrimp, michelada and mole, there were also the sweets like lavender, avocado, and angel’s kisses.
I’d never heard of this before and was fascinated. Guanajuato surprised me with its delicious and unique gastronomical delights. I say unique because I’ve never seen or had some of these things before. Which, being a bit of a foodie, is saying something.
I’m normally the first one with my hand up to try something new. And Guanajuato delighted not only my explorer’s heart, but my adventurous taste buds as well. So ceviche ice cream was just the start.
Guanajuato’s delightful foodie surprises
Venturing out on my first morning in Guanajuato, I was delighted by another foodie surprise. Homemade blueberry cheesecake by a local family. Their smiling daughter was in a local park and asked if I’d like “the best vegan cheesecake ever.” Now, I admit I was curious. And always up for something new, I grabbed a slice. After all, one of my dearest friends is gluten intolerant, so I’m always on the lookout for something that may be amazing for her.
And it was. It was very tasty indeed. Especially since I’d never actually had a sugar-free, lactose-free, gluten-free dessert before. But standing in that park, we giggled at my reaction to a very tasty treat that ended up being my breakfast.
She gave a big thumbs-up as we laughed when I told her this. I mean, if it’s gluten-free, lactose-free and sugar-free, it can’t be that bad, right?
Not like the three little pigs.
The little pigs
Not what you think. These little piggies, bollos preñaos, are adorable stuffed pastries. Shaped into cute little pig faces, it was love at first bite. Fantastic for my taste buds, bad for my waistline. They were my obsession the whole time I was in Guanajuato.
My father almost dropped the phone one night when I said, “Dad, I’ve been eating the cutest little piggies.” See, I’ve been a vegetarian for over a decade, so I swear he was in shock and stopped breathing until I explained what they were. Sorry, Dad!
Stuffed with savory or sweet fillings, I was eating these delicious little pigs every day! My favorite savory was the mushroom. My favorite sweets were … well … umm … all of them! I’m embarrassed to say it, but if I had to choose, it would either be the zarzamora con queso(blackberry and cheese) or the até de membrillo con queso crema (quince paste with cream cheese).
I know, I know: My waistline will never be the same, but in my defense, they were heaven. And rich. It is a very decadent thing, a blackberry cheese piggy. And quince paste with cream cheese is one of my all-time favorite things ever, so for my palate, they were irresistible.
And at US $1 each, I couldn’t resist!
Mexico Correspondent for International Living, Bel is an experienced writer, author, photographer and videographer with 500+ articles published both in print and across digital platforms. Living in the Mexican Caribbean for over 7 years now, she’s in love with Mexico and has no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.
If you spot a drone under your tree, it’s probably just President Trump’s way of saying you’re on his “watch” list.
WASHINGTON, D.C. — In yet another bold display of unconventional diplomacy, U.S. President Donald Trump announced Monday that he is “absolutely, one-hundred-percent open” to delivering holiday gifts directly to Mexican drug cartel leaders, insisting the initiative has nothing to do with intimidation and everything to do with spreading goodwill across borders.
“Would I launch strikes in Mexico? Sure, that’s OK with me,” Trump told reporters, pausing in the Oval Office to check off items on his holiday shopping list titled ‘Addresses of Mexico’s Most Wanted — For Festive Purposes Only.’ “People think I know all the cartels’ addresses because of national security, but really, I just want to know where to send Christmas gifts for the kids and flowers to their wives. It’s how you build ties, folks.”
With the holiday season almost here, President Trump has suggested he is open to delivering some Christmas cheer via UAV.
The president emphasized that his administration’s detailed knowledge of every drug lord’s residential coordinates is purely for “surprise holiday delivery purposes,” including luxury gift baskets and what he described as “really beautiful, top-quality poinsettias”.
Trump assured the public his administration’s knowledge of every drug lord’s home isn’t just about “knowing their front door for military reasons” — it’s so he can surprise their loved ones with luxurious fruit bouquets and copies of ‘The Art of the Deal’ signed in glitter pen.
He was also quick to note that much of the narcotics entering the U.S. “come through Mexico,” and that recently imposed tariffs on Mexican imports are simply his way of “encouraging better Secret Santa participation” across the border.
Mexico’s President Claudia Sheinbaum responded by publicly affirming that foreign gift-delivery services must coordinate with Mexican customs authorities, but did not rule out the possibility of “exchanging fruitcakes” at future diplomatic summits.
When pressed about whether the U.S. gift initiative would include wrapping paper, Trump reportedly replied, “Only the best wrapping paper. Gold. Very festive”.
Sara Yorke Stevenson was in Mexico City when the French army entered in 1863. (Public Domain)
Sara Yorke Stevenson would be many things during her life. Author, suffragette, journalist, museum curator, and most famously, a distinguished Egyptologist. From 1862 to 1867, she lived in Mexico City, where she witnessed both the arrival of Emperor Maximilian and the departure of French troops, the latter marking the end of French dreams for a Mexican Empire. While her book, “Maximilian in Mexico: A Woman’s Reminiscences of the French Intervention 1862-1867,” contributes little to the well-documented political history of these turbulent times, her account contains numerous unique and fascinating insights into life in Mexico City. C. M. Mayo credited her as writing “the most lucid, informed, and balanced … of all the English-language memoirs of the Second Empire/French Intervention,” and she would feature Sara and her mother in her successful novel, “The Last Prince of the American Empire.”
Sara came from a wealthy family that had investments in the southern U.S. cotton industry. In the early 1840s, her parents moved to Paris, and Sara was born there in 1847. When her parents relocated back to the U.S., ten-year-old Sara stayed in France, where she attended boarding school. She was placed under the guardianship of M. Achille Jubinal and his wife, from whom she gained her interest in antiques and archaeology. In 1862, her parents moved once again, this time settling in Mexico City. When her brother was killed by bandits, they decided it was time to reunite the family, and Sara was instructed to pack her bags and head for Mexico.
Sara Yorke Stevenson was 15 when she arrived in Mexico, but would not publish her account of time spent there until she was older and a prominent figure in Philadelphia society. (American Philosophical Society)
The Second French Intervention in Mexico
The previous year, France had landed a military force at Veracruz, in a heavy-handed attempt to force the new Liberal government into paying its outstanding foreign debts. There was great excitement in France at this event, believing they were witnessing the start of a golden period during which French expertise would open mines, expand the telegraph service and build railroads. This would all be to the benefit of the Mexicans and to the profit of Paris. Indeed, Sara’s journey to Mexico would be on the maiden voyage of a new steamship service, the first to directly link France with Mexico. Sara was a little chilled to find that two of the young passengers were surgeons, sent out to increase the staff at the military hospital. This was the first indication that the Mexican adventure was coming at a cost.
After stops in Cuba and Martinique, Sara had her first glimpse of Mexico on May 2, 1862. “A dark, broadening line upon the horizon, behind which soon loomed up in solitary dignity the snow-capped peak of Orizaba.” Like most visitors to Veracruz, she commented on the heat and the vultures. These large, black birds were the town’s only refuse collectors, and as such were protected. This had allowed their numbers to increase to the point where they covered the flat roofs and steeples of the town. While they waited for permission from the health officer to land, passengers received news that the military force of General Charles de Lorencez had been forced back at Puebla.
Her arrival in Mexico City
The defeat of a European army was a shock, and it meant that the road to Mexico City was now closed to foreigners. Travelers would have to risk the longer and bandit-infested route via Xalapa. This required employing an escort of bandits who, having taken the travelers into their care, could negotiate safe passage with any other ruffians the party might encounter. Sara and a small group of fellow travelers found a bandit captain recommended by friends, a man whose credentials included an impressive saber scar on his face.
Their guide proved trustworthy, and after nine days they reached the crest of a mountain, from which they looked down on the valley of Mexico and the capital. Sara described the view: “With its two hundred thousand souls, its picturesque buildings, and the lakes of Chalco and Tezcuco, while to one side the huge snow-capped volcanoes, the Iztaccihuatl and the Popocatépetl, like two gigantic sentries, seemed to watch over the sacredness of this classical spot of Mexican history.”
After the excitement of the journey, Mexico City seemed quite peaceful, and the new arrivals were wined and dined by the small expatriate community. Many upper-class Mexicans mixed freely with the foreigners, and Sara noted the happy mood of the Liberal supporters, as if victory at Puebla had ended the danger of French intervention. “Society danced and flirted, rode in the Paseo, and walked in the Alameda,” she later recalled. There were amateur bullfights in the Plaza de Toros, where rich young aristocrats put on a show with far more heraldry than the rather grabby professional circuses of the time.
There was also a dark side to Mexico in 1862. Bands of outlaws roamed the countryside, and the stage coaches that linked the capital with the provinces were regularly robbed. Neither was the city itself safe from violence. “No man, in those days, ventured out of an evening to pay a call without being well armed.” The secretary of the Prussian legation, a man who apparently had the knack of making enemies, had been badly injured in one attack. Kidnapping was common and particularly feared, the mistreatment of victims being legendary.
The French army takes Mexico City
Sara Yorke Stevenson’s time in Mexico coincided with the short-lived reign of Emperor Maximilian. (Public Domain)
As Sara settled into her new home, the French government set about avenging the defeat at Puebla, with the advance guard of General Forey’s army entering the capital on June 10, 1863. That morning, Sara went onto the balcony to see the unexpected sight of a group of senior officers in the street below. “As we appeared at the balcony, there was a perceptible flutter among them, and some of them began to ogle us as only Frenchmen could, whose eyes had not rested upon a white woman for several months.” The French administration returned the Conservatives to power, a move that pleased many people. Short of money, the Liberal government had been exhorting the rich for loans and seizing boys from the slums for the army ranks. After years of civil war, the French intervention seemed to promise stability and peace.
Sarah was aware that problems remained, noting that while the liberal forces might have been forced from Mexico City, they had not been defeated, and the countryside remained as lawless as ever. Stage coaches were regularly attacked, and in an incident that shocked the community, highwaymen tore up the rails of the Paso del Macho Railroad and kidnapped several of the passengers for ransom. When young officers offered to take Sara and her friends on a picnic by the ruins of an old Spanish aqueduct, it was deemed wise to take an additional guard of soldiers, this just 20 kilometers from the city.
Emperor Maximilian’s Mexico
Under French “guidance,” the new Conservative government accepted an Austrian archduke, Ferdinand Maximilian, as Emperor of the Second Mexican Empire. Sara witnessed the royal couple’s arrival in the city, a parade not equaled since the days of the Mexica. “Triumphal arches of verdure, draped with flags and patriotic devices, were raised along the principal avenues leading to the Plaza Mayor and to the palace. As far as the eye could reach, the festively decked windows, the streets, and the flat roofs of the houses were crowded with people eager to catch a glimpse of the new sovereigns.”
It was an optimistic time for some. The royal court glittered, trade boomed, customs duties increased, and loans were given freely. An Anglo-French company won the concession to build a railway linking Veracruz to Mexico City, a project they promised would be completed in five years. With the center of the country subdued by the French army, the Emperor started a tour of the provinces. Sara, however, was becoming less optimistic about the future. The abundance of money, she wrote, “dazzled the people, and a golden dust was thrown into the eyes of all, which for a brief period prevented them from seeing the true drift of political events.” Indeed, despite the young emperors’ good intentions, the imperial experiment would be short-lived and would end in bloodshed and disaster.
Final glimpses
By 1866, the French government was losing its appetite for a war that had dragged on for nearly five years. While not unexpected, the announcement in December that the French army would be called home sent shock waves through the foreign community. “One heard of little else than of the safest and most comfortable way of getting down to the coast,” Sara wrote. The Stevenson family was one of the first to leave, and Sara’s last night in Mexico City was spent taking supper at a friend’s house. Then, at 3 a.m., the family was escorted to the stagecoach. “The gloom of that early start in the darkness of the morning! The dreariness of everyone’s attempt at cheerfulness! And then the approaching noise of the mules.”
At least with the French army in retreat, the road was safer than usual, and after the first day of hard traveling, the stagecoach rested in the safety of a military camp. Here, Sara caught a glimpse of one of the great characters of this adventure, Princess Salm-Salm, “in her gray-and-silver uniform, sitting her horse like a female centaur — truly a picturesque figure, with her white couvre-nuque glistening under the tropical sun.” In Veracruz, it was life as normal, and Sara and her family were invited to breakfast by the commander and entertained on board the flagship of Admiral Cloue. All talk now was of the Emperor and whether, as everybody expected, he too would shortly flee the country.
Princess Salm-Salm, whom Sara Yorke Stevenson encountered in Mexico, would unsuccessfully plead for the life of Maximilian to be spared. (Public Domain)
From Mexico to Egyptology
And so the Stevenson family returned to the United States. Most of their money had been invested in Mexico, and her father, who was already ill, never recovered from the loss. He died soon afterwards. Sara, still only twenty, made a living as a music and dance teacher, married an attorney, and entered into Philadelphia’s social life. Building on the love of archaeology she had first acquired in Paris, she enjoyed a distinguished career as an Egyptologist. She would become the first woman to lecture at the Peabody Museum and the first woman to receive an honorary degree from the University of Pennsylvania. Her account of the Second Mexican Empire, “Maximilian in Mexico: A Woman’s Reminiscences of the French Intervention 1862-1867,” was published in 1899.
Bob Patemanis a Mexico-based historian, librarian and a life-term hasher. He is editor of On On Magazine, the international history magazine of hashing.
At the Open Water Parliament in Jalisco, citizens stressed that water must not be a private commodity. (Instagram)
Inside the colonial-style courtyard of the Jalisco State Congress, the voices of farmers, scientists, activists and lawmakers echoed through the arched porticos. They had gathered from the far corners of one of Mexico’s most sprawling, populous and economically powerful states — and beyond — to weigh in on Mexico’s new water policy.
The “Parlamento Abierto por el Agua” — Open Water Parliament — convened on Nov. 7, bringing together a diverse citizenry under the banner “Una sola agua, una sola ley” (One Water, One Law). Their message was clear: Water must no longer be treated as a private commodity.
Mexico’s new water laws
President Sheinbaum’s administration has proposed new water laws. (Gobierno de Mexico)
“The law they’re proposing is a simulation,” she said. “It keeps the old privatizing structure intact and treats water as a market, not a human right.”
A mandate ignored
In 2012, Mexico amended its Constitution to recognize the human right to water and sanitation, ordering Congress to enact a new General Water Law within 360 days. Thirteen years later, that law still doesn’t exist.
“In 2012, the human right to water and sanitation was recognized … and Congress was given 360 days to issue a new General Water Law,” González said in an interview. “It’s now 2025 — 13 years have passed — and this new law still hasn’t materialized.”
For González, the delay reflects the power of entrenched economic interests — what activists call “la hidromafia“ — the consortium of industrial, agricultural and political elites that have long profited from exclusive water concessions.
“In Mexico, a single concession can let a company control water for generations,” she said. “Families spend a large part of their income buying bottled water, because neither public nor private systems guarantee safe drinking water.”
The ‘finger of God’ and two laws
Some at the Open Water Parliament in Jalisco believe a new federally proposed water law violates the constitution. (Instagram)
At the Parliament’s legal forum, veteran water defender Elena Burns, co-founder of Agua para Tod@s, Agua para la Vida, warned that the federal government’s draft law violates both the Constitution and common sense.
“The finger of God points down and they come with two laws — perpetuating the old Salinista water law,” she said with characteristic irony. “They just stick a General Water Law to the side with a bit of chewing gum — a wish list with no means of enforcement.”
The draft now before Congress was prepared by CONAGUA, Mexico’s National Water Commission, the federal agency long criticized for favoring industrial and agribusiness interests. Its proposal would keep the 1992 National Water Law in place while creating a second “General Water Law” focused on broad policy goals.
“The CONAGUA initiative violates what the Constitution establishes,” Burns added. “By splitting the law in two, it keeps intact the old concession system — precisely what must change.”
‘One water, one law’ is no slogan
Constitutional scholar Rodrigo Gutiérrez Rivas of UNAM’s Institute for Legal Research called the federal plan “clearly unconstitutional.”
“‘One water, one law’ — more than a slogan, it’s an unequivocal constitutional mandate,” he said. “Congress was given 360 days to issue a General Water Law. As simple and straightforward as that.”
“One water, one law.” It’s a simple mandate, citizens say. (Instagram)
Miguel Ángel Montoya, a legislative adviser to the Citizen Water Law Initiative, reminded the audience that the clock has been running since 2012:
“Thirteen years later, that mandate is still being ignored.”
What privatization looks like
González pointed to everyday realities that expose Mexico’s water inequities. Industrial agribusiness and mining operations enjoy concessions lasting up to 30 years, renewable indefinitely. Municipal utilities in states such as Puebla and Coahuila have been privatized. And urban consumers, distrustful of tap water, spend billions annually on bottled brands — often owned by the same corporations extracting groundwater.
“Water has been turned into an economic asset,” she said. “This model deepens social inequality and environmental destruction. We need to shift from a water market to a water commons.”
A crisis made in Jalisco
In her home state, González added, the stakes are visible everywhere: “Jalisco is living a water crisis,” she said. “We have toxic contamination, degraded ecosystems and policies that still treat infrastructure as the solution.”
From the poisoned Santiago River to vanishing aquifers in Los Altos and megaprojects that channel water toward Guadalajara’s sprawl, citizens say the crisis mirrors a national pattern of extraction without accountability.
Mexico’s groundwater is heavily contaminated in parts of the country, with long-term exposure proving dangerous to health. (Crisanta Espinosa Aguilar/Cuartoscuro)
Mariana Casillas Guerrero, a federal deputy from Jalisco, told participants the new bill risks cementing that pattern.
“We must ask to what extent this reform truly breaks with the extractivist model of concessions and privileges for a few,” she said. “It still allows decades-long permits that loot nature and the peoples. Water is the memory of the peoples — the material foundation of any project of social justice.”
From the ground up
In a breakout session on acaparamiento (water hoarding), agronomist Martín Gómez García of the Network of Democratic Agronomists described how large avocado and berry plantations continue operating “without permits, depleting aquifers and displacing small farmers.”
Participants demanded publication of a full list of concession-holders delinquent on their fees and urged that new permits be conditioned on sustainable use. Others proposed regional water councils with citizen participation to monitor local supply, and mandatory rain-harvesting systems for public buildings to reduce pumping from Lake Chapala.
At the national scale, Agua para Tod@s and allied networks have documented more than 28,000 community-run water systems — from rural collectives to urban neighborhood committees — managing, purifying and distributing their own water.
“These are systems where neighbors manage, purify and distribute their own water,” González said. “They’re the heart of water democracy in Mexico.”
Many in Mexico must buy bottled water to have access to clean drinking water. (Agua.org)
Burns agreed that any real reform must recognize those systems. “They are already practicing what the law should protect,” she said during the forum. “That’s where the right to water truly lives.”
Toward a national reckoning
Across Mexico, similar citizen Parliaments are unfolding — in Puebla, Torreón, Oaxaca and the Valle de México — all demanding that Congress scrap the 1992 law and pass a single, enforceable framework guaranteeing equitable access.
In Jalisco, legislators pledged to do their part.
Federal deputies Claudia García Hernández and Mariana Casillas Guerrero vowed to take the Jalisco resolutions to the national Chamber of Deputies, while state deputies promised to pass a formal resolution urging their federal counterparts to consider them.
The debate that began in Jalisco continued in Mexico City last week, where the Chamber of Deputies held a series of public hearings on the proposed General Water Law. Lawmakers and civil society groups — including Agua para Tod@s and the Jalisco delegation — presented their positions, calling for a single, enforceable law to guarantee the human right to water.
Still, González warned, the political and economic pressures are enormous.
In arid Jaumave, Tamaulipas, competition for scarce water can be fierce. In 2022, ranchers here formed an armed self-defense group to prevent illegal extraction of water from the Guayalejo River by other local farmers without legal water rights to do so. (Cuartoscuro)
“It’s an unequal battle,” she said, “but one filled with hope — because people everywhere are organizing to put water for life, not for profit, at the center of our future.”
‘To defend water is to defend life itself’
For Deputy José Luis Sánchez González, who closed the Jalisco Parliament, the struggle over water is ultimately about moral choice.
“When we speak of something as vital as water, it’s worth asking who is truly willing to defend it,” he said. “Today we are speaking of defending life itself through a resource as vital as water.”
Tracy L. Barnett is a freelance writer based in Guadalajara. She is the founder of The Esperanza Project, a bilingual magazine covering social change movements in the Americas.
Mexico has a distinctive palette. (Unsplash/Mikka Luotio)
Years ago, I took a cable car tour above Iztapalapa. Beneath me was a patchwork of roofs covered in colorful murals. I had taken a similar tour in Medellín, Colombia, yet the visual pattern of the Mexican rooftops was highly distinct. Sure, there were paintings of Mexica warriors and jaguar heads, but the detail that really stood out was the color.
Mexico is a landscape of rosy pinks, bold blues, golden yellows and burnt reds. Could you say the same for Peru? Guatemala? Turkey? Yes. Still, it’s undeniable that certain shades just look Mexican. That’s because they are, and here’s why.
Vibrant colors can be found in any Mexican market, or indeed almost anywhere in the country. (Wikimedia Commons/Israel Magaña Velazquez)
The ancestral language of color
Long before ancient civilizations adopted the written word, people communicated through color. The Mexica defined cardinal directions using different hues — red for east, green for south, black for north and white for west. Moving eastward, the Maya linked colors to the cosmos, and yellow symbolized creation while blue meant rain or, depending on context, sacrifice. The means to collect these colors were purely agricultural: insects, plants and earth minerals were used for the unique pigments they carried. These stains could be found on murals and codices, as well as pottery and statues offered to the gods.
With the Spanish arrival came even more pigments and techniques to extract them, not to mention religious iconography that soon showcased a blend of indigenous and European shades. These tints illustrate Mexico’s essence, and while many are now achieved through commercial development, their symbolic meanings continue to live on through art, food, home design and fashion.
Cochineal red
Mural by painter Arturo García Bustos showing the cochineal harvest in Oaxaca. (Wikimedia Commons/ArbyBB)
If you’ve been to Oaxaca City, you’ve seen firsthand the wealth generated by a single color. Mexico’s southern colonial gem was once home to the second-richest export – nocheztli, also known as cochineal red. The color comes from crushed cochineal, parasitic insects that live on the nopal cactus. In pre-Hispanic Mexico, red was a sacred hue, representing life, death and renewal, often found on temples and burial sites, in textiles and clothing. From this particular red came varying shades of pinks, crimsons and even burgundies. When Mexico joined the global trade market, cochineal red spread throughout Europe, even coloring the famous “redcoats” worn by the British Army. Oaxaca Valley farmers began breeding the insects to support trade, generating millions in capital.
The process wasn’t quick — more than 70,000 female bugs and eggs are required to make one kilo of pigment — but the finished product was more brilliant than any red Europeans had ever seen. At its height, the pigment was more valuable than gold. The money that poured in funded the city’s expansion from military outpost to commercial hub, resulting in the construction of impressive stone mansions and gold-leafed cathedrals.
Maya blue
Members of the Dzán community assist in mixing the pre-Hispanic formula for Maya Blue. (Mark Viales)
Maya Blue is believed to have been first developed by the Maya around the 8th century CE. It is one of the earliest known examples of advanced organic-inorganic chemistry — a blend of natural indigo dye and clay, sourced from the Yucatán Peninsula. You’ve certainly seen the bold turquoise color on Mesoamerican murals, pottery and sculptures from Calakmul to Chichén Itzá. Generally, the color is associated with water, rebirth and the rain god, Chaac.
The most traditional craftspeople make Maya blue the same way today as thousands of years ago — leaves and stems from the añil plant are submerged in a vat of water for 12–24 hours to ferment. The liquid is then transferred to another vat and agitated for several hours. This speeds up the oxidation process, creating blue flecks that sink to the bottom. Sometimes, lime (stone) is added. The “mud” that forms at the bottom is drained and dried in the sun, resulting in what the Maya once called “blue gold”. The color can withstand remarkable natural threats, from humidity to acid, retaining its lustrous hue for centuries.
Mexican pink
Ramón Valdiosera, the fashion designer who gave rosa mexicano to the world. (Instagram)
Rosa mexicano is not a natural pigment, but as the shade is so definitive of Mexico, it would be impossible not to mention it. In 1949, Veracruzano fashion designer Ramón Valdiosera received government funding to present a clothing collection at New York’s Waldorf Astoria Hotel during “Mexico Week.” The garments he showcased were inspired by traditional huipiles, rebozos and pre-Hispanic design, but what stood out most was the striking pink color he had used. The shade, visually derived from Mexico’s landscapes and bougainvillea flowers, was quickly dubbed Mexican pink, and from that moment served as a symbol of Mexican pride.
The color is everywhere — the famous Luis Barragán Casa Giraldi in Mexico City’s San Miguel Chapultepec neighborhood is a prime example of rosa mexicano in action — and has been for hundreds of years, often achieved by mixing the aforementioned cochineal red with other dyes. In 2015, Mexico City rebranded its taxis to reflect the color, now associated with the country’s charisma and vibrance.
Mexican green
The quetzal bird’s feathers were revered by earlier cultures in Mexico. (Gobierno de Mexico)
Green was revered by the Mexica and earlier cultures as the color of life, fertility and hope. The feathers of the quetzal bird — vivid and green — were reserved for nobility and deity imagery, especially for the god Quetzalcoatl. Jade was another shade of sacred green, represented in its most notable form as a funerary mask for Pakal the Great of Palenque, the ancient Maya city in Chiapas. To these early inhabitants of what we now call Mexico, green symbolized eternal life and power.
Traditionally, pigments were derived from diverse plant and mineral sources. The muicle plant’s leaves were boiled for hours until a deep emerald liquid emerged. The barba de león (dodder plant) provided a different shade when combined with various lichens (symbiotic relationships between a fungus and algae), which resulted in the vibrant green details found on Chiapas huipiles. The earth itself also provided various pigments, and green clay deposits found near volcanic regions were ground into fine powders and mixed with plant-based binders for murals and architecture.
Mexican yellow
Mexican cempasúchil grown in Puebla state showcases one of the country’s most vibrant yellows. (Mireya Novo/Cuartoscuro)
Mexican yellow carries profound spiritual significance as the color from which humanity was born. In Maya mythology, the gods formed the first people from golden maize dough, making yellow the fundamental color of creation and marking every aspect of Mexican culture, including daily meals and religious ceremonies.
The extraction of yellow pigments was an art form — artisans knew to gather cempasúchil (marigold) petals at dawn because their color was most intense. They would grind the petals with volcanic stone mortars and mix the paste with mineral salts, creating a lasting golden dye. Sunflower petals were also used, but resulted in a different shade. Clay ochres were also used, carefully selected for their iron content and ground into powders that could withstand centuries of exposure.
Día de Muertos is perhaps the most iconic example of Mexican yellow, with marigold petals used as colorful pathways for souls returning from the afterlife. The color also shows up in Izamal, Yucatán’s famous yellow pueblo. Whether painted in the brilliant shade as a nod to the ancient Maya sun god Kinich Kakmó or for the 1993 arrival of Pope John Paul II, it remains a symbol of Mexico’s connection to the spiritual realm.
Mexican purple: the royal dye of the coast
The púrpura pansa snail secretes a color that changes from yellow to green to magical purple. (Gobierno de Mexico)
Purpura prehispánica is one of the rarest and most labor-intensive colors in world history. Indigenous Mixtec and other coastal peoples of Oaxaca started producing the legendary deep purple dye centuries ago. The hue is derived from ink secreted by the marine snail púrpura pansa. Because of the difficult extraction, the precious color was reserved exclusively for priests, rulers and sacred textiles.
The process starts with gentle stimulation to release a milky secretion that’s then applied to cotton yarn. Once the liquid is exposed to sunlight, it transforms from yellow to green to a permanent purple. It takes hundreds of snails and many hours to dye even a single skein of thread, making each purple garment extraordinarily valuable.
Too precious to fade
This rarity nearly led to the tradition’s near-extinction — foreign corporations began overharvesting in the 1980s when international interest in natural fabric dyes surged. Japan’s Imperial Purple Inc. hired non-Mixtec fishermen to collect snails year-round, disregarding sustainable practices long in place to protect the creatures from harm. By 1988, the Mexican government declared the purpura snail federally protected. Imperial Purple Inc. was expelled, and harvest rights were restricted only to licensed Mixtec dyers following traditional conservation cycles.
What makes Mexican colors so distinctive isn’t just their vibrancy, but the stories they carry. These pigments have survived conquest, transformation, and globalization, their symbolic power transcending the methods used to create them. In a world increasingly dominated by synthetic dyes and mass production, Mexico’s ancestral palette reminds us that some traditions are simply too precious to fade.
Bethany Platanella is a travel planner and lifestyle writer based in Mexico City. She lives for the dopamine hit that comes directly after booking a plane ticket, exploring local markets, practicing yoga and munching on fresh tortillas. Sign up to receive her Sunday Love Letters to your inbox, peruse her blog or follow her on Instagram.
