Visitors emerge “as if they were entering an ecosystem” at the "Biodiseño MX" exhibit in Mexico City, writes Katy Alivraz. (Katy Alivraz)
When visitors enter the “Biodiseño MX” exhibition at the Franz Mayer Museum, earthen tones and other elements evoke the feeling of “entering an ecosystem.” Later, the exhibition transforms from its earthy finishes as color and light shift toward white, creating the atmosphere of a laboratory.
The exhibition’s power is reflected not only in this juxtaposition, but can also be seen in the curated design pieces, spanning popular art and practices rooted in ancestral knowledge to technological innovations, such as 3D-printed memorial reefs made from human ashes.
Curated by Taina Campos, “Biodiseño MX” brings together more than 60 creatives who explore design from a more-than-human perspective — in “collaboration with and for nature.”
Art pieces by Indigenous groups are well represented at the “Biodiseño MX” exhibit. (Katy Alivraz)
What is biodesign?
Design is the creative approach to solving a problem. But since the Industrial Revolution, designers have been put at the service of the market, argues Campos. The Mexico-based designer and curator explains that biodesign is a fundamental shift in current design practice from an anthropocentric approach toward a symbiotic worldview, where nature is not only exploited for resources but integrated into the design process.
In interdependence with flora, fauna, microbes and fungi, and drawing from bio-inspiration, design pieces at the exhibition explore a world beyond anthropocentrism.
More-than-human design
Although symbiotic, biodesign is still susceptible to human ideas and needs. Campos acknowledges that, when approaching biodesign from an anthropocentric perspective, the tendency to create objects that cater to human needs persists.
But although a substantial part of the exhibition is centered around objects for human life — like tableware made from eggshells — certain pieces explore a more-than-human design.
The “Memorial Reef” by the U.K.-based company Resting Reef consists of 3D-printed artificial reef structures made from human ashes and calcium carbonate. According to Resting Reef, introducing those phosphorus-rich sculptures to underwater sites is meant to nourish marine communities. This project adds another question to biodesign: How can biodesign move toward regeneration?
The exhibition’s juxtaposition
The exhibition juxtaposes biodesign for functional objects like biofashion with pieces that help restore marine ecosystems or create oxygen.
“Jardín lacustre” by Mariana Paredes and Molecular Lab takes microalgae from Lake Texcoco and feeds them carbon dioxide from Mexico City’s polluted air. Through photosynthesis, these algae produce oxygen, escalating biodesign from a utilitarian need to a question of ecological survival.
The pieces of popular art made by Indigenous peoples of the Global South reflect an understanding that nature is “intrinsic to us,” while contrasting with technological innovation abundant throughout the exhibition.
In the “Microbia Room,” white light and a cooler palette create a laboratory-like atmosphere. (Katy Alivraz)
Design as a revolution
When speaking about Campos’ motivation for biodesign, she mentions that design has an impact on how we understand the world through objects, systems and everyday applications. Biodesign is not only a design practice but another way to see the world.
“For me, biodesign is the language or practice — the material expression of design — that can lead us toward this other pursuit of design,” she explains. “It is no longer only about solving human problems or making beautiful products to sell; it is about generating another understanding of the world.”
Patriotism on a plate, as red, white and green combine to form an Independence Day special — this time without the aliens. (Aceites de Oliva de España)
September, known as the “mes patrio” or patriotic month, has begun. This is the month when Mexicans commemorate the consummation of our independence, which took place in 1821. During the official celebration on Sept. 15, the president reenacts the way the independence movement began with what we call the “grito” — the cry of independence.
We also celebrate the grito at home, accompanied by family and friends. We dress up to look even more Mexican with sombreros, fake mustaches and braids. We drink tequila, sing Mexican songs, shout “Viva México” and, of course, eat.
Perhaps the most famous seasonal dish, and the one that generates the most intrigue for me, is chile en nogada.
September means hats, Mexican flags and wild celebrations. It also means chile en nogada season is upon us. (Chris Havler-Barrett)
The dish is essentially a stuffed poblano pepper covered in a walnut sauce. The stuffing is a mixture of beef with fruits such as apple, peach, banana and pear, along with almonds, pine nuts, walnuts, onion and garlic. Its flavor profile, combining sweet and salty, is outstanding.
And now, the intriguing part
As a historian, I am fascinated by how official history is shaped, and I find it puzzling that chile en nogada is included in September’s menu as the quintessential Mexican dish.
According to information from an official government page, on Aug. 28, 1821, the Augustinian nuns of the Convent of Santa Mónica in the state of Puebla welcomed the first Emperor of independent Mexico, Agustín de Iturbide, with a newly created dish that represented the colors of the new national flag: green, white and red. This, the tale goes, is how chile en nogada came to be.
The historical records, however, tell a different story: Agustín de Iturbide did travel to Puebla in 1821, but he arrived on Aug. 5. The list of supplies purchased for the emperor’s reception shows that the ingredients needed to make the chile en nogada weren’t acquired, so it is highly unlikely that he ever tried the dish. Nevertheless, he did enjoy a splendid banquet.
The idea that the nuns created the dish for Iturbide is a myth: Historical records indicate that the recipe was already being prepared in the early 1800s. Researcher Lilia Martínez has discovered that nogada is a European sauce with documented origins going back to the 15th century.
Chile en nogada is to Mexico what William Wallace is to the Scots: an enduring symbol of freedom… which actually has nothing to do with freedom. (20th Century)
It’s important to note that without the Spanish Conquest, this dish would be impossible, since most of the ingredients used in chile en nogada originate in Spain or were brought over in the intercontinental trade of the time. These ingredients include the English walnut, a protein option of pork, beef or chicken, pomegranate, almonds, apples, pears, peaches and bananas.
So why is it considered the quintessential Mexican dish?
“Je ne sais pas,” the French would say. Wouldn’t it make much more sense if we ate a mole madre or a “tlacoyo?” Or maybe we eat it because it’s the conjunction of two great culinary traditions. Regardless of the reason, I can promise you two things: first, it is one of the most delicious dishes in Mexican cuisine you’ll ever try. Second, once I find out when it became the quintessential Mexican dish, I will create a video and write an article about it.
Any Mexican restaurant will have its version of chile en nogada. However, in my opinion, the best chiles I’ve had are found in Puebla. If you can’t go there, look for a thick, ivory-white sauce on your plate, and you’ll probably have an amazing chile en nogada.
I considered sharing the recipe, but every family has its own version, and I don’t want to offend anyone by claiming that mine is the ultimate recipe. This recipe is over three centuries old, from a time when people had the luxury of peeling walnuts with their fingernails and taking time to appreciate the landscape, so it requires a lot of time and patience; as in, two whole days. My parents had two comadres who prepared chile en nogada for the entire family, a party of 80 including us. A group of six women had to spend a whole week in the kitchen. We were fortunate, no doubt. Do you have a good chile en nogada recipe to share with us, or is the one you use a family secret? Do you know where the best chile en nogada can be found? Share in the comments below.
María Meléndez is a writer and art historian. She works at the Mexican Cultural Institute of the Embassy of Mexico in Washington, D.C.
PIJIJIAPAN, Chiapas — Relations between southern regional neighbors in Mexico reached a historic low Thursday following a massive front-line fromage offensive by Chiapas cheesemakers, who ambushed Oaxaca by constructing a 1,611-kilogram ball of quesillo to reclaim their Guinness World Record for the “world’s biggest cheese ball,” escalating a long-simmering border dispute into an all-out dairy arms race.
The offensive in the coastal town of Pijijiapan neutralized Reyes Etla, Oaxaca’s 2024 record of 636.2 kilograms, effectively tripling the tonnage and signaling a strategic shift toward heavy-artillery curd production. Defense analysts confirmed the deployment required 15,500 liters of milk and four hours of continuous tactical winding on a custom-built metal platform designed to prevent structural failure under heat and humidity.
Chiapas cheesemakers hold the spoils of war aloft: A Guinness World Record certification. (Sectur / X)
“This is no longer a matter of culinary pride; it is a full-scale declaration of dairy war,” said Chiapas cheesemaker Roberto Morales, addressing reporters near the massive sphere. “For over a year, Chiapas citizens lived under the psychological weight of a superior Oaxacan cheese ball. With this 1.6-metric-ton retaliation, we have fundamentally altered the balance of dairy power in southern Mexico.”
Defense officials in Oaxaca have yet to issue a formal surrender, though intelligence reports indicate high-level emergency meetings are underway in Reyes Etla. Observers spotted local agricultural logistics teams inspecting dairy reserves and evaluating blueprints for a potential 2,000-kilogram counter-ball ahead of the upcoming festival season.
Meanwhile, municipal officers in Pijijiapan face the formidable task of maintaining victory conditions before environmental factors intervene. “While our victory on the culinary battlefield is complete, we are now managing the post-battle logistics,” Morales added. “Specifically, the unraveling, portioning and consumption of 1.6 metric tons of high-density string cheese before ambient humidity forces a tactical retreat.”
María Ruiz collects some of her favorite sayings passed down from Mexican grandparents. (iStock)
On Aug. 28, Mexico celebrated Grandparents’ Day, an annual tradition since 1983 that recognizes not only our grandparents’ boundless love, experience and wisdom, but also the invaluable contributions they make to Mexican families and communities.
In a country where many parents and caregivers work, grandparents often play a fundamental role in raising children, including picking them up from school, preparing their meals, and keeping them company or supervising them while their parents are away from the home. In fact, according to the University of Colima’s El Comentario, 30% of children in Mexico are cared for by their grandparents.
Grandparents are often the keepers of traditional wisdom in Mexico. (Gobierno de Mexico)
While capturing the full scope of their impact is nearly impossible, Mexico News Daily did its best, collecting stories from folks across Mexico about the lessons they learned from their grandparents. Some are amusing and quirky, while others are unexpected and confounding.
No matter their essence, though, each word chronicles the everyday wisdom and legacy of those who have left a deep and abiding impression for generations to come.
If you are pregnant and there is an eclipse, you must wear a safety pin on your belly to protect the baby.
If a pregnant woman has a craving and does not satisfy it, the baby will be born with the face of whatever she avoided eating.
Newborn babies should wear a red bracelet so that a witch will not suck on them.
Alicantes — a type of snake — hypnotize women who have recently given birth to steal their breast milk.
If a baby has a cough, fever or hiccups, the mother must stick a red thread to the baby’s forehead with saliva so it will go away.
If a baby has droopy cheeks, it is because they were made to sit up too early.
If you shave your baby’s head and rub tomato on it, their hair will grow back curly.
If a pregnant woman’s belly is egg-shaped, she will have a boy; if it is round, she will have a girl.
If you are pregnant and go to the beach, your child may be born with blue eyes.
Food
Watermelon is delicious, but don’t eat it at night. (Floh Keitgen/Unsplash)
You should not eat watermelon at night because it bloats the stomach and is hard to digest.
If you do not eat what you are craving, you may get a sore on your tongue.
If you get up from the table before you have finished eating, your mouth may become crooked.
If you do not satisfy a craving, you may develop bile.
If you do not plant with enthusiasm, your harvest will not come in.
You must save the best ears of corn from the harvest to attract abundance.
You must rub the ends of a cucumber to remove “the poison:” meaning, its bitterness.
You should not drink plain water on an empty stomach when you are hungover, because it is harmful.
If you eat tortillas upside down, your insides will turn upside down.
Eat pozole with soda or tea, never with fruit-flavored water.
You have to scold or hit fruit trees so that they bear fruit.
To sleep better, drink warm milk before going to bed.
Witches and witchcraft
Those red lights you saw floating through the night sky? They’re likely witches! (Mexico News Daily)
If you see red balls in the sky, they are witches. If they look close, the witch is far away; but if they look far away, she is close.
Rub an egg over your body to remove negative energy.
If La Llorona’s crying sounds close, it means she is far away; but if it sounds far away, it means she is close. La Llorona is an old legend about a mother who drowned her children in a river and, in sorrow, spends her nights crying for them. She is particularly associated with rivers, lakes and reservoirs.
Weather
Tired of the rainy season? Go bury a knife in the ground! (Mexico News Daily)
If you bury a knife in the ground, you will prevent it from raining.
You should not bathe after an earthquake because the water has been “shaken.”
If you cross your eyes and a gust of air gets into them, they will stay that way forever.
You should not comb your hair, knit or embroider while it is raining, because lightning could strike you.
The first 12 days of the year predict what the weather will be like in each month: these are the famous cabañuelas.
To cure a sore throat, you have to rub roasted tomato on the chest and the soles of your feet.
To cure a cough, you have to iron some pieces of cloth, place them on the back and chest, and sleep with them warm.
Cold enters through the feet; that is why you should not walk barefoot inside the house.
You have to “cool” your eyes — by putting saliva in them — after watching television; otherwise, you could go blind.
If you feel empachado — with indigestion or a blocked stomach — someone must massage your belly until that person begins to burp; that will relieve the bloating.
If a dog has a cough, you must put a necklace of limes around its neck so it will go away.
Death
If you are lying down, about to fall asleep, and a friend invites you out, you must say no; otherwise, you may encounter death.
If you hear an owl screeching, it means that someone you know will die.
Other beliefs
Spitting mezcal in the face of someone else may seem rude, but is sometimes necessary, according to Mexican folk wisdom. (Anna Bruce)
To cure espanto — a folk illness associated with fright — you must spit mezcal on the face of the person suffering from it while they sleep.
Espanto is cured by drinking a bitter beverage bought at the apothecary.
You should not buy underwear for your partner because it is bad luck: they might leave.
You should not sweep or do housework at night, because negative energy can enter or money can leave.
If you are going on a trip, you must leave a light on to prevent thieves from breaking in.
Stretching at the table is a way of thanking the devil.
You should not cut your hair after eating because it is harmful.
To make visitors leave soon, you must place a broom upside down behind the door.
Tell us in the comments: Did your grandparents have beliefs similar to these? Which ones do you think are true, and which ones are part of Mexican folklore?
María Ruiz is the Director of Digital Marketing at Mexico News Daily. She enjoys photographing her hometown of San Miguel de Allende in her spare time.
Mexican sunflowers are among the most beautiful wildflowers in Mexico. (Bel Woodhouse)
Mexico’s wildflowers astounded me … as if Mother Nature had rolled out the red carpet. Traveling through the central highlands in Querétaro and Guanajuato last September, the roadsides, fields and hillsides were covered in colorful blooms. It was a wow moment. Entire mountainsides shone in a patchwork of vibrant yellows, oranges, reds and pinks. Yet, six months earlier, when I passed through, the same mountainsides were dry, arid and sparse.
However, in September, an entirely different ecosystem lay before my eyes. So much so that I asked the driver to stop along the highway beneath the hillside of Mexican sunflowers. The blooms blanketed the landscape in a cheery yellow; he picked some for me after I shared that I was a botanical artist.
When to see the wildflowers
Mexican sage is easily identifiable thanks to its burst of color. (Bel Woodhouse)
There are two wildflower seasons in Mexico. The first is in spring, from March to May, when arid regions like Baja California and northern deserts bloom after winter rains. These winter rains cause superblooms where desert plants bloom en masse and carpet the landscape.
The second wildflower season is in autumn, from September to November, after the rainy season throughout Mexico. Native plants put on a brilliant flowering display, bursting into bloom.
Of course, wildflower season may start a little earlier, or end a little later depending on the weather. Having been in Queretàro and Guanajuato in September for the last two years during the autumn wildflower season, I can tell you September is a great time to visit states in Central Mexico.
Cosmos, marigold, Mexican sunflowers, globe mallows, morning glory, salvias, mirasol and many more. From tiny butter daisy flowers blanketing the ground at your feet to the huge blooming shrubs of Mexican sunflowers looking you in the eye. There is a wide variety, from light happy yellows to deep striking purples.
Some flowers were a surprise to me. Like the soft baby pink hues of globe mallows. Not a plant that I had seen before. So, seeing a big patch was quite the sight. Another surprise was massive patches of happy pink cosmos. A popular garden plant, grown for its flowers, it was delightful to find out it is native to Mexico.
Seeing the stunning beauty of wildflowers transform the landscape, I knew there had to be symbolic meanings attached to these flowers.
My top 5
Someone asked me what my favorite flower was. It’s almost impossible to choose, but these five left the biggest impression. Especially the white poppy.
Chicalote, or Mexican white prickly poppy
A sketchbook look at the author’s favorite Mexican wildflowers. (Bel Woodhouse)
The Chicalote, a native white prickly poppy, won my heart. Its delicate papery petals shining under the sun were so dreamy and elegant that I painted one. The delicate white petals symbolize tranquility, peaceful dreams and quiet rest.
These white prickly poppy flowers stand for endurance and resilience, peace and sleep.
Because the spiny plant thrives in dry, harsh and disturbed soils where other plants fail, to many it represents the ability to survive tough conditions through deep inner strength.
Mirasol, or cosmos
Mirasol is known for its vibrant pink hues. (Bel Woodhouse)
In a show-stopping display of vibrant pinks, cosmos put on quite a show. Huge patches waved to us along the roadside. Swaying on long feathery stalks as we passed. Another beautiful member of the daisy family, cosmos represents balance, peace and tranquility.
Also, cosmos is believed to act as a bridge between life and the afterlife, linking the physical world with the spiritual realm.
Girasol, or Mexican sunflower
Entire mountainsides in Mexico are often covered in sunflowers. (Bel Woodhouse)
Cherry sunflowers were by far the most common. Entire fields and mountainsides radiated in cheery yellow everywhere I went. This member of the daisy family represents faith, loyalty, and adoration.
Some Indigenous populations associated the flower’s bright face with solar deities. Aztec and Mexica people treated the plant as sacred. Dried sunflower seeds were left as offerings at major ceremonial sites like the Templo Mayor in Mexico City.
Mexican passionflower
The Mexican passionflower is a striking sight. (Bel Woodhouse)
Walking the streets of Queretàro, Mexican Passionflowers were abundantly climbing up trees or along old gates. This one was growing outside a church, which I found fitting, as they symbolize the Passion of Christ and the crucifixion.
The 10 petals and sepals represent the faithful apostles, while the corona filaments (seen as the purple inner ring) represent the crown of thorns. Inside, the three stigmas represent the nails, and the five anthers represent Christ’s wounds.
Copper globemallow
The soft and velvety copper globemallow symbolizes resilience. (Bel Woodhouse)
New to me, this member of the hibiscus family had me stopping for a closer look. The soft baby pink petals are as delightful as the velvety feel of its leaves. Flourishing in dry, harsh desert heat, the flower symbolizes endurance and resilience. Also standing as powerful emblems of hope, gentle comfort and vitality.
The best way to see them
Take a drive. These flowers line highways and laneways, lowlands and mountain ranges. So, by driving, you will see the greatest variety. I loved them all so much I made a quick sketchbook page with the most abundant. I hope you enjoy them as much as I have over the last couple of years.
Mexico Correspondent for International Living, Bel Woodhouse 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 seven years now, she’s in love with Mexico and has no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.
Is it just a stereotype or are Mexicans really always late? Sarah DeVries explains the truth of the matter. (Jaelynn Castillo/Unsplash)
The goal of our “From the Archive” series is to revisit popular stories that capture the unique history and culture of life in Mexico. This Sarah DeVries article — originally published in December 2024 — is a humorous look at a stereotype regarding Mexicans and punctuality.
Before we get into the nuts and bolts regarding Mexican punctuality — or lack thereof — it’s important to clarify one thing. Mexicans are not actually always late.
That said, all stereotypes have to come from somewhere, don’t they? But like everything in life, there’s nuance to it.
Stereotypes regarding Mexican punctuality can be inaccurate, but it’s hard to argue that for many, the concept of time here is just … different. (The Lazy Artist Gallery/Pexels)
Just like people all over the world, there’s room for a great deal of variety. Some people are always on time, and some people never are. Most people are punctual for certain activities, and unpunctual for others.
My dad, for instance, has never been punctual; I remember my mother saying she was terrified he wouldn’t make it to their wedding on time. My ex-husband also has challenges with punctuality, as does one of my best friends; I’ve spent great chunks of my adult life waiting hours.
I’m always super duper on time for everything, though I might let myself get to a party up to an hour late. My kid is leaning unpunctual, but I’m doing my damnedest to lecture it out of her. Because if there’s one thing kids love and respond to, it’s a good lecture.
One of the problems about even defining “late” is the language around defining time. For a deep dive into this, check out Joseph Sorrentino’s excellent piece on this specific type of vocabulary. Ahorita, al ratito, mañana … None of these words specify an actual time, you see? So “ahorita” could mean right this minute, and it could mean in five hours, or never. Al ratito (in a while) might mean in a couple of hours, or it might mean in a few years, depending on who’s saying it. You get the idea.
And really, this kind of language is useful because it allows for flexibility. In this way at least, Mexico is a flexible country.
Really, it has to be. Things come up that need tending to. Public transportation can be unpredictable. The opportunity to have a meal or talk to a pretty girl might come up. Your mom tells you to go fetch some things from the store,and you don’t tell her, “Sorry, I have plans.” Really, you just never know what can happen!
Ahorita, al ratito, mañana … None of these Spanish language words or phrases specify an actual time, do they? (Daria Obymaha/Pexels
Life is unpredictable, and Mexicans have a fairly high tolerance for it being unpredictable, which is lucky for all of us.
Sometimes, though, there are things you must be on time for. And a good indicator of what those things are is whether or not there’s a specific time attached to them.
The meaning of ‘tolerancia’
School is one of those things. At my daughter’s school, for example, 8 a.m. is the official time kids have to be in the door. As a courtesy to the perpetually-late parents, there’s a “tolerance” of 10 minutes. To me, this means my daughter must be there before 8 a.m. if we’re not to be seen as rude and irresponsible. To others, it means 8:10 or even 8:11 is the limit. If kids aren’t in by that time, they must wait to enter the 9 a.m. class.
It was like this when I taught school here, too; some things, I suppose, are non-negotiable.
The same goes for official appointment times, even if the official or doctor you’re meeting isn’t exactly on time. So if you have a meeting with, say, immigration, you’d better be there at your appointment time! Some places will let you know that they have a tolerancia (literally, tolerance) of 10-15 minutes. This means that if you’re more than that amount of time late, you lose the appointment!
For other things, usually involving celebrations, arrival and start times are more flexible. This is especially true of parties, to which you can show up rather late without causing a fuss. Unless you’ve promised to bring something essential for the party, they’re just glad to have you there at some point. This doesn’t mean they’ll wait for you to start in on the cake and piñatas, though, so beware!
Clocks vs. cultural norms
Mexicans usually have “tolerance minutes” that allow for limited lateness at appointments and events. (Element5 Digital/Unsplash)
Concerts and plays typically start within 15 to 30 minutes of their “official” start time; rock concerts might start hours after they’re meant to. Oh, well!
And if you’re meeting friends, it might depend on the specific circumstances. Are you meeting someone busy who only has a few minutes? Are you meeting them alone? In my group of mom friends, we always know that things can come up. “I’ll text you when I leave” is a good, flexible bridge that keeps people updated but keeps plans flexible.
In my own conservative and somewhat strict view, being on time means showing respect for the other person. If you are not on time, then you do not care about them or their time. And if you are on time, not only are you showing respect for them, but you’re making things easier for yourself, avoiding fluster. My cultural chauvinism is showing, I know.
But for plenty of people here, that’s a ridiculous notion. Why stress so much about being on time when literally anything can happen to make you not on time? Perhaps there’s a message here too about avoiding blame and responsibility. “Se me durmió el gallo” (The rooster went to sleep on me; as in, the rooster didn’t wake me up).
But that’s for another article. For now, I’ll leave you with a cute little proverb, as well as its juxtaposed, more truthful meme:
“Al que madruga, Dios le ayuda.” (The one who rises early receives God’s help.) It rhymes!
“Al que madruga, encuentra todo cerrado.” (The one who rises early finds everything closed.)
Dolores González and Joaquín Estrada, the founders of Toluca-based Nutritortillas, have officially launched their tricolor tortilla in celebration of Mexico's Independence Day on Sept. 16. (Crisanta Espinosa Aguilar/Cuartoscuro)
Bilateral communications were front and center in Mexico the week of Sept. 7, with developments running the gamut from encouraging to combative. U.S. President Donald Trump’s remark that Mexico has “nothing” the United States needs beyond “hot tamales” and “tomatoes” caught fire over the weekend, unleashing a fresh round of provocations from Trump, Vice President JD Vance and Secretary of State Marco Rubio in the days that followed.
Among Mexico’s US $61B in exports to the U.S. are vehicles, auto parts, machinery, medical devices, AI servers, alcoholic beverages and fresh food, including tomatoes. (Official White House Photo by Molly Riley)
Mexico, however, continued to highlight trade and security collaboration with its northern neighbor, though the PISA test results and next year’s midterm elections sparked more conversations at home. Meanwhile, the annual inflation rate ticked up to 3.26% — as expected according to Banxico, which forecasts inflation of 3.5% by the end of 2026. President Claudia Sheinbaum remained optimistic through it all, especially as her administration makes its plans for 2027. Overhead, punishing heat baked Mexico’s northern border states even as monsoon rains drenched the Pacific coast and center of the country.
Didn’t have time to catch this week’s top stories? Here’s what you missed.
2027 budget takes shape
On Monday, Finance Minister Édgar Amador Zamora submitted a 10.6-trillion-peso (US $627.8 billion) budget proposal for 2027 to Congress, an increase of about 1% in real terms over this year. Amador framed the package around “five pillars” — economic growth, protecting government priorities, strengthening revenue, more efficient spending and fiscal discipline. The government is banking on those pillars to shrink the budget deficit to 3.9% of GDP next year from an estimated 4.1% in 2026, even as public debt climbs to 55% of GDP. No new taxes or fuel-price hikes are planned.
Health care gets a 10.9% real-terms boost to 1.1 trillion pesos, largely for IMSS-Bienestar infrastructure and medicine supply, while education rises about 7% to 1.3 trillion pesos to fund new schools. Pension and welfare programs get just over 1 trillion pesos, and debt servicing alone eats up 1.6 trillion pesos — roughly one of every seven pesos the government spends. Security agencies see an 11.6% bump to 331.4 billion pesos, while Pemex funding falls 69.2% as the state oil company pushes toward self-sufficiency.
The National Electoral Institute (INE) is the biggest percentage winner of all, with an 87.5% real-terms increase ahead of 2027 midterm elections, while the Energy Ministry, the National Human Rights Commission and the Federal Electricity Commission absorb the steepest cuts. Sheinbaum said the following day that she is “very satisfied” with the package and that growth could exceed the official forecast of 1.5-2.5%, citing anticipated stability in trade relations with the U.S. and Canada.
Security officials reported this week that daily homicides fell 53% in August compared to September 2024, the final month of the López Obrador administration, making it the least violent August since 2015.
More than 67,000 people have been arrested for high-impact crimes since Sheinbaum took office, though Security Minister Omar García Harfuch cautioned that “the job is not done.” Days later, from Tuxtla Gutiérrez, the president highlighted a 63% drop in Chiapas’s homicide rate since Gov. Eduardo Ramírez Aguilar took office, alongside nearly 10,000 arrests in the southern state. The same briefing revealed the discovery of a clandestine hospital the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG) used to treat injured members.
Olmeca Refinery notches record month
Pemex’s Olmeca Refinery in Tabasco posted its best month yet for fuel production in July, averaging 252,498 barrels per day, a 78.8% jump over June. Gasoline output rose even more sharply, up nearly 128% month-over-month, after equipment fires forced repairs earlier in the year. Despite the milestone, the plant — which began operating approximately two years ago — is still running at roughly two-thirds of its 340,000-bpd capacity.
Fox and PRI’s Alito Moreno join forces
In a striking political reunion, former President Vicente Fox met with PRI leader Alejandro “Alito” Moreno to discuss “the need to build a strong opposition” ahead of 2027 midterms — 26 years after Fox became the first opposition candidate to sweep the once-dominant PRI out of the presidency, and years after he called the party “black vipers, vermin and tadpoles.”
Morena, for its part, dismissed the pairing as “the reorganization of the power elite,” saying in a statement that “they change the names, they invent new organizations, but behind the facade, it’s the same old faces.” The PRI, which ruled Mexico for 71 years, now holds just two of the country’s 32 governorships — the same number as the much smaller Citizens Movement (MC) party.
At her Monday press conference, Sheinbaum branded the reunion “PRIAN” politics dating to the “neoliberal” era of former President Carlos Salinas de Gortari, and called Fox a “traitor of democracy” — a jab tied to his role in Mexico’s disputed 2006 election.
Bilateral high points
Trade and security cooperation produced some of the week’s more encouraging bilateral news. Mexico’s exports to the U.S. hit a monthly record in July: US $60.55 billion worth of goods were sent north, pushing Mexico’s share of the $332.92 billion U.S. import market above 18%.
Along the border, Mexican and U.S. forces carried out “High Eagle,” a binational operation to detect and disable drones cartels use to surveil authorities near Tijuana and San Diego. And though bad weather grounded Commerce Secretary Howard Lutnick’s flight to Mexico City on Wednesday, he and Sheinbaum still held a video call on USMCA negotiations that Economy Minister Marcelo Ebrard described as “cordial” and “very useful,” with talks on steel, aluminum and automotive tariffs continuing ahead of a fourth bilateral review round.
Bilateral low points
Other exchanges were considerably more combative. Over the weekend, Trump proposed to rename New Mexico “New America,” despite having no legal authority to rename a U.S. state, drawing pushback from the state’s Democratic leaders. Later in the week, from Ecuador, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio doubled down on claims that cartels control “vast territories” of Mexico, hinting the threat may eventually have to be “confronted one way or the other.” Sheinbaum shot back on Thursday morning, telling Rubio to keep Mexico out of U.S. midterm politics and calling his remarks electorally motivated. Rounding out the week, U.S. Vice President JD Vance labeled the Mexican flag “a symbol of the far left” after a protester interrupted his convention speech in Dallas, telling the man to “get your ass over there” if he loved Mexico so much.
Poor PISA scores spark a debate over screens
New results from the OECD’s Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), given to 7,843 students across 297 Mexican schools, showed that four in 10 15-year-olds — 41.8% — scored below the basic level in science, math and reading, more than double the 19.7% OECD average and Mexico’s worst showing since 2009.
Mexican students averaged 388 points in math, 408 in reading and 414 in science, all well below OECD averages of 463, 461 and 482, and the country has shed seven points in both math and reading since the 2022 test. The decline wasn’t unique to Mexico — the OECD’s education director called it part of a “dramatic” global drop, particularly in reading — and Mexican students still reported unusually high curiosity (80%, versus a 24% global average who called school “a waste of time”). Education International, the global teachers’ federation, pinned the broader slide on shrinking attention spans, heavy AI use and a worldwide teacher shortage. China, Singapore, South Korea, Estonia and Canada topped the rankings.
Education Minister Mario Delgado blamed excessive screen use for the drop in reading comprehension — arguing that “screens make it easy to ‘read’ or consume images” — while defending the New Mexican School curriculum model and promoting traditional games like yo-yos, marbles and spinning tops as a substitute for phone time. He conceded the PISA sample was “statistically representative” even as he questioned whether the test amounts to a comprehensive evaluation of Mexican education. Sheinbaum later told reporters Mexico will roll out new math and reading textbooks next year, including poems and short stories, and push a “return to pencil and paper,” tying the effort to new national guidelines already restricting cellphone use in schools.
Mexico’s students have registered consecutive declines in their reading skills since the 2009 PISA evaluation. (Pedro Anza/Cuartoscuro)
Education Ministry, UNESCO team up on AI in schools
Also this week, Mexico’s Education Ministry signed a letter of intent with UNESCO to guide the “responsible” rollout of artificial intelligence in classrooms, with the U.N. body offering technical assistance, teacher training and research support. Officials said the goal is to ensure AI supports, rather than substitutes for, teaching and critical thinking, and the deal also opens the door to new rules on cellphone use in schools.
Mexico prepares for El Grito and Independence Day
With the country’s 216th independence anniversary approaching, more than 18,000 members of Mexico’s armed forces are readying for the Sept. 16 military parade through Mexico City, featuring drones, horses, dogs and a float marking the country’s World Cup hosting duties this past June and July. The holiday kicks off the night before, with Sheinbaum leading the Grito de Independencia from the National Palace balcony and Tejano band Intocable headlining a concert in the Zócalo.
Festivities and gritos will ring out from cities across the country, including in Sinaloa, whose capital city of Culicán will hold a public celebration of Independence Day for the first time in two years.
Points of 🇲🇽 pride
A 20-year-old engineering student from a Chihuahua farming family, Luis Ángel Robles Morales, won a national innovation award for an irrigation filter that is already helping 500 drought-stricken farmers use water more efficiently.
Forward Julián Quiñones and Club América’s Scarlett Camberos earned historic Ballon d’Or nominations, marking the first time two Mexican players — and a Mexican club — have featured on the shortlist for world soccer’s top individual honor.
Mexico News Daily
This story contains summaries of original Mexico News Daily articles. The summaries were generated by Claude, then revised and fact-checked by a Mexico News Daily staff editor.
San Juan de la Vega's annual sledgehammer tradition is unlike anything else in Mexico. (Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci)
A door in the street cracked open just enough for a hand to slip through. A kid, maybe 15, curled his fingers toward himself: come here, come here, then pulled back into the dark. I looked around the street. Nobody. I stepped inside.
The house looked like a drug kitchen. Two folding tables stretched across the room, their surfaces dusted white and yellow. On one side, a bucket of potassium chlorate. On the other, sulfur. Three kids stood around the tables, working the powders together with their bare hands. One kid looked up at me and grinned, then went back to scooping powder into small plastic bags.
San Juan de la Vega’s annual sledgehammer ritual is very dangerous and has been legally banned … although it’s still carried out.
Josué was the one who had waved me in from the doorway. One of the boys had no hands. Both arms ended at the wrists. I didn’t want to ask. I asked anyway. He told me it happened during the explosions, a few years back. He said it the way someone tells you about a stolen bicycle, part of life.
Don Juan David, Josué’s father, walked into the room. He greeted me with a handshake and a smile, glanced at the tables of explosive powder where their children worked, and walked back out.
A dangerous tradition
Every year, on Shrove Tuesday, the townspeople of San Juan de la Vega pack homemade explosives onto sledgehammers, carry them to the streets and open fields, and slam them against the ground. People lose limbs. This time, something was different. For the first time in the town’s history, authorities had banned the use of explosives during the carnival.
Families wanted to talk. Each family insisted theirs was the true story. The carnival, they all agreed, celebrates San Juan de la Vega, a saint who saved the town from gold robbers centuries ago. The explosives reenact the gunshots from his battles.
Every family also wanted to make sure we knew that the big explosions, the ones the town is famous for, are not the real tradition. The real tradition is small. Modest. A respectful crack of gunpowder in honor of the saint. Kids started making bigger and bigger explosives, destroying city piping. Everything breaks, they said, shaking their own heads. This is not what we are.
A man named Aquino de la Vega was moving silver shipments by mule along the Camino Real when bandits started robbing him. He prayed to San Juan Bautista. The robbers stopped. Aquino vowed he would honor the saint every year, forever, and so would his sons.
San Juan de la Vega’s sledgehammer ritual is tied to tradition and is a way to honor its patron saint, Saint John the Baptist. (Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci)
Six families still carry that vow. Each one is tied to a barrio. The families fund the music, the food, the processions. They keep the image of the saint in their home for a year.
Adrenaline and danger
The word I heard more than any other was adrenalina. The afternoon before the carnival, I found Josué sitting on a curb outside a corner store, rolling a cigarette. He was quiet.
“I’m always scared before I do it,” he told me. “But once I blow up one, I can’t stop. The adrenaline is too strong. I want to keep going.”
I asked about the dangers, and stories came easily: a man who burned, another who was paralyzed, people who lost fingers, hands, arms, legs. Accidents happen because the explosives are powerful enough to send 25-kilogram sledgehammers flying through the air. A hammer goes up, a hammer comes down, and sometimes there is a head in the way.
“Police always try to take them away,” one man said, sitting in a plastic chair outside his house, two kids playing in the dirt beside him. “But they will never stop the tradition. Nothing will change.”
On the afternoon before the main event, the streets were empty. Doors closed. No music. No voices.
“I’m always scared before I do it. But once I blow up one, I can’t stop. The adrenaline is too strong. I want to keep going.” (Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci)
Boom. The first hammer hit the ground as soon as night fell.
The sound moved through me. The ground shook under my feet. My ears whistled, even from 100 meters away. My chest vibrated. Windows cracked. The pipes beneath the street groaned and split.
Then came another. And another.
Parades took the streets. Villagers singing, dancing, playing instruments, carrying the image of San Juanito through the town. Following them in the back, kids dressed as soldiers, some in boots and gas masks, others with no gloves, no protection of any kind. Everyone carried sledgehammers and backpacks stuffed with explosives.
Defying the ban
I found Josué in the crowd. Face covered in soot, eyes wide. He swung a hammer down and the detonation threw him sideways. He got up laughing and loaded another charge.
Around midnight, the first police cars appeared.
The sledgehammer ritual has been legally banned in San Juan de la Vega, but the tradition continues. (Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci)
The crowd froze. About 10 men climbed out with SWAT gear, assault rifles and bulletproof vests. They walked toward the kids with the backpacks. The boys scattered.
I saw a grandmother crack her front door open. She let the kids shove their backpacks full of explosives through the gap; she closed the door, and she stood in front of it. When the police asked to enter, she stood immobile like a statue until they were gone.
The police confiscated what they could, caught a few guys, and left. Within minutes, the parades reformed. The hammers came back out. The explosions picked up where they had stopped.
At around 3 a.m., we walked back toward town to catch some sleep. I did not sleep. The bed shook after every boom. Even with earplugs, my ears hurt. It went on until 7 a.m.
We walked outside. Over 10 police cars patrolled the town. They had shut everything down. But beyond the edge of town, we could hear it. Boom. Boom.
We followed the sound.
Moving to the tracks
“There, away from the police, the hammers got bigger.” (Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci)
The townspeople had moved to the train tracks. Flat, open land, sand, rocks and gravel, not a piece of shade anywhere. They placed explosives on the rails and waited for trains to roll over them. Between trains, they took turns blowing up hammers on steel bars laid flat against the ground.
There, away from the police, the hammers got bigger.
It was noon. The sun was directly overhead. People packed more and more powder onto the sledgehammers and took turns. Huge hammers flew tens of meters into the air.
I watched a kid swing a hammer down. The explosion threw him back onto the ground. The hammer launched upward, spinning, and came down on his head. The ring of steel on skull. He tried to stand. Blood ran from his scalp, down his face, into his eyes. His friend pulled off his own shirt, wrapped it tight around the kid’s head, and hauled him onto the back of a motorcycle. They disappeared down the road.
Nobody stopped. The next person stepped up.
The next morning, the market opened in the square as always. People walked slowly, said good morning to each other. A dog slept in a doorway. The church bell rang at 8.
I went to say goodbye to Don Juan David. He pulled me into a hug that lasted a long time. He held on. We had barely talked. When he finally let go, his eyes were wet. He thanked me. He begged me to come back next year.
“Sí, San Juanito permite,” he said. If San Juanito allows it.
Mattia Astori and Daniele Colucci make Sacratos, a documentary project on extreme rituals with photos, interviews, articles and videos. They’ve worked in Mexico, India, Bolivia, Thailand and Italy.
