The trade dispute panel backed the U.S., which argued that Mexico’s restrictions on GM corn were not grounded in science. (Unsplash)
A three-member USMCA dispute resolution panel has handed Mexico a big defeat by ruling against the country’s restrictions on genetically modified (GM) corn imports, citing a lack of scientific basis for the measures.
The panel found that Mexico’s policies were in violation of its obligations under the U.S.-Mexico-Canada Agreement (USMCA), most notably in regard to market access.
The U.S. Trade Representative’s (USTR) office said the panel ruled in favor of all seven U.S. legal claims in the long-running case, “handing the Biden administration a major trade victory in its final weeks,” according to Reuters.
Announced on Friday, the decision comes after years of escalating tensions since Mexico’s initial 2021 decree to phase out GM corn for human consumption — starting with bans against the use of GM corn in tortillas and dough, with a possible future ban on GM corn for livestock, as well.
Mexico has been importing GM corn from the U.S. for years, buying about US $3 billion worth annually. That corn is mainly used to feed livestock.
The United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) notes that more than 90% of corn in the U.S. is produced using genetically engineered varieties, according to a fact sheet produced by the Washington, D.C.-based Wilson Center.
Over 90% of corn planted in the U.S. is a genetically engineered variety. (Dekalb County Farm Bureau)
In general, genetic modifications made to plants introduce traits such as resistance to pests, tolerance to herbicides such as Roundup, better nutritional content or faster growth.
While genetically modified organisms (GMOs) remain a subject of debate, the widely used but controversial herbicide Roundup has been classified as a “probable carcinogen,” by the World Health Organization (WHO).
The USTR hailed last week’s ruling, stating it upheld USMCA principles and protected U.S. farmers — as Mexico is the largest market for U.S. corn exports.
According to the Foreign Agriculture Service (FAS), an agency within the USDA, Mexico imported US $4.25 billion of corn from the U.S. from January through September of this year, a period in which U.S. corn exports totaled US $10.76 billion.
Mexico’s Ministry of Economy said in a statement on Friday that it does not agree with the ruling, but “will respect the determination, since the USMCA dispute resolution system is a key part of the treaty.” The ministry’s statement stressed that Mexico’s GMO measures were designed “to protect public health and Indigenous rights.”
Over the weekend, Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum said she also disagrees but will now work on promoting reform to the GMO decrees issued under former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador.
“We are going to reverse this decision, because very soon, in February, [Mexico’s Congress is] going to legislate, I am sure, that transgenic corn cannot be planted [in Mexico starting in 2025] and that Mexico’s biodiversity must be protected,” Sheinbaum said.
In response to the ruling, President Sheinbaum said that the Mexican Congress will soon enact a ban on planting GM corn in Mexico. (Andrea Murcia Monsivais/Cuartoscuro)
Both the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate are in recess, returning Feb. 1.
In addition to citing unfair trade restrictions, the U.S. argued that Mexico’s restrictions were not grounded in science and that Mexico failed to properly conduct and document its risk assessments on GM crops.
The panel’s final report gave Mexico 45 days to adjust its policies or face potential retaliatory tariffs.
Experts say the GM corn dispute could strain Mexico-U.S. relations as the USMCA faces renegotiation under the incoming Trump administration.
Despite the ruling, Mexico is still planning a gradual transition away from GM corn, though it remains a contentious issue. Analysts predict prolonged debates over the environmental and health implications of biotechnology as Mexico seeks to balance trade obligations with domestic goals.
Part of the equation going forward could be “short corn,” which Bayer, the owner of Monsanto, has been studying in Mexico with hopes of revolutionizing the global corn industry.
After U.S. President-elect Donald Trump declared he would designate Mexican cartels as foreign terrorist organizations on his first day in office, Mexico’s President Claudia Sheinbaum told reporters Mexico would never accept any interventionist actions.
“We will collaborate with and coordinate with the United States,” Sheinbaum said in response, “but we will never subordinate ourselves.”
“All foreign gang members will be expelled and I will immediately designate the [drug] cartels as foreign terrorist organizations,” Trump said, adding that every cartel “operating on American soil will be dismantled, deported and destroyed.”
Calling Sheinbaum “a lovely woman,” Trump told the AmericaFest crowd that he was very tough on Mexico, saying he insisted the Mexican president must do more to address the drug trade.
U.S. President-elect Trump comes on stage at AmericaFest in Phoenix, Arizona, where he announced plans to designate Mexican cartels as terrorist organizations. (Turning Point USA/X)
Trump floated the idea of a terrorist designation during his first term in office back in 2019, but set plans aside at the request of Sheinbaum’s predecessor, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, who sought to cooperate in the fight against drug gangs, instead of considering intervention.
For several years, hard-liners in the United States have demanded that organizations such as the Sinaloa Cartel and the Jalisco Nueva Generación Cartel be labeled as terrorist groups. These supporters would also back targeted attacks on cartel operations in Mexico in violation of international law, El País reported.
Officially designating cartels as terrorist organizations would legally permit the United States to send its military into Mexico to fight the crime gangs, the newspaper El Universal reported. Some U.S. officials believe such a measure would damage relations with Mexico and hinder the Mexican government’s fight against drug trafficking.
After saying she would defend Mexico’s sovereignty against any interventionist actions, Sheinbaum restated her government’s position on the drug war.
“The drugs are consumed [in the United States], the guns [the cartels use] come from there, and lives are lost down here,” she said. “But … we don’t accept interference in our country.”
Sheinbaum added that her administration is working to re-establish peace in Mexico by addressing the root causes of violence so that the country’s youth do not become involved in crime.
The Iglesia de San Jacinto in San Ángel is one of the oldest churches in Mexico City.
I’m not a religious person, but I do enjoy a classic Christmas Eve Mass.
I wish I could say I started going for spiritual purposes or to engage with the community, but that wouldn’t be true. The truth is, I just wanted a place to sing Christmas carols.
Silent Night is “Noche de Paz” in Spanish. Though it has different lyrics, the melody is the same. (Unsplash)
Several years ago, I spent my first holiday here in Mexico City and figured singing carols in Spanish would be a good immersive experience. I arrived at the Parroquia de la Sagrada Familia in Roma Norte and settled into a rather chilly wooden pew. Bright red poinsettias lined the aisle and twinkling lights dangled from the altar. I listened to the low chatter of parishioners as it ricocheted off the walls adorned with paintings of religious icons. A family, grandparents, parents, and two small children, slipped in the pew in front of me.
The grandmother held a small bundle of blankets with what looked like a baby inside. Throughout the service, she would pass the baby to her husband, who would rock it gently for a few moments. He would then pass it to one of his adult children, who stared into the bundle with love and adoration. It impressed me how quiet the child was, and how stiff his little body appeared to be. Weird that with all this movement and sound, it hasn’t made so much as a peep.
Upon further inspection, I realized…it was a doll.
A doll of the baby Jesus.
“Upon even further inspection, I realized that everyone around me seemed to have the very same baby Jesus doll.” (Cuartoscuro)
And upon even further inspection, I realized that everyone around me seemed to have the very same baby Jesus doll. I scanned the room in awe and watched as grown men and women rocked their respective figurines with a doting so visceral that anyone from the outside would assume what they were holding was a real living child.
I stifled a laugh (In church! The horror!). What in the Lord’s name is going on here?
Because I’m a curious soul, I researched this peculiar phenomenon immediately. I found out that many Catholic families own a Niño Dios (Baby Jesus) which is usually passed down through generations or given as a wedding present. On Christmas Eve, the doll makes its debut. First, it’s wrapped in a blanket and “lulled” to sleep by a godparent while onlookers sing a chorus of lullabies. At midnight, the doll is lovingly placed in its proper, central spot in the Nativity for each family member to kiss and pray over.
It’s a sight to behold.
Want to see it for yourself? You can. Don your Sunday best and make your way to any of these gorgeous Mexico City churches on December 24, known in Mexico as Nochebuena.
The Metropolitan Cathedral holds public mass on Christmas Eve.
Metropolitan Cathedral
Historical Center
Built in: started in 1524, finished in 1813
The most famous church in Mexico sits in the heart of the historic center and is known for its magical Midnight Mass. Because the cathedral took nearly 240 years to complete, it’s now a unique blend of architectural styles including Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, and Neoclassical, and a beautiful location for an unforgettable Christmas experience.
Basílica de Guadalupe
Villa de Guadalupe
Built in: the New Basilica was constructed in 1974 to replace the Old Basilica, built in 1695
Pilgrims from all over Mexico come to the country’s most important religious site for a significant Nochebuena celebration. The New Basilica houses the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe and holds up to 100,000 people. Despite its size, you’ll still have to arrive early to get a decent seat.
This beautiful church in Colonia Roma offers a more intimate setting for Nochebuena Mass. Construction began in 1910 but was interrupted during the Mexican Revolution. It was finally finished 15 years later, and its interior quickly became notable for its multicolored stained glass windows illustrating Bible passages and Christian mysteries.
Iglesia de San Jacinto
San Ángel
Built in: mid 16th century
The San Ángel neighborhood and its colonial feel make this former convent one of the most charming places to spend Christmas Eve. Founded as a small hermitage in the mid-16th century, it became an official church by 1580. The complex includes one of the first atrial crosses carved in stone, mixing Christian and pagan elements.
San Juan Bautista Church
Coyoacán
Built in: began in 1522, completed around 1552
One of the oldest churches in Mexico City is situated in Coyoacán’s center plaza, offering a historic and cheerful setting for Nochebuena Mass. The church features a blend of architectural styles and houses an outstanding collection of colonial-period artwork.
The Christ Church will have traditional Christmas carols and the retelling of the nativity story in English on Tuesday, Dec. 24 at 5 p.m.
Christ Church
Lomas de Chapultepec
Built in: 1992
This Anglican church provides English-language services and could be an option for expats or visitors seeking a familiar style of worship. It was designed by architect Carlos Mijares and can be recognized by its distinctive brick construction.
Parroquia de San Agustín
Polanco
Built in: 1949
Polanco’s modernist church takes up an entire block and is a local go-to for traditional Nochebuena services. A distinctive half-dome over the altar earned this parish the nickname “Church of the Tinaco.” The façade showcases the first seven Augustinians to arrive in Mexico in 1533.
Capilla of San Sebastián Mártir
Location: Chimalistac
Built in: late 16th century
If what you want is to step back in time, Chimalistac is where you need to go. Arrive early, as this extremely historic church is tiny and its crowd large. Originally an open-air chapel, it was roofed and enclosed in the late 17th century. The chapel houses an 18th-century Baroque altarpiece from the original Church of La Piedad.
Nuestra Señora de Valvanera Cathedral
Location: Historic Center
Built in: 1572
Also known as the Maronite Cathedral of Our Lady of Valvanera, is the official cathedral for the Maronite Catholic Eparchy of Our Lady of the Martyrs of Lebanon in Mexico. It’s one of just two churches with authentic talavera tiles on the belfry and houses a statue of Lebanon’s beloved saint San Charbel.
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.
The planned railway would connect the industrial center of Saltillo with the "customs capital" of Nuevo Laredo on the border with Texas. (Gabriela Pérez Montiel/Cuartoscuro)
Every year, thousands of Mexican immigrants in the United States return to their places of origin in Mexico to reunite with their families for the holiday season.
Estimates suggest that over 20,000 Mexican immigrants are expected to cross the Texas border this December. Most of them are traveling to the area surrounding Jalpan de Serra, a municipality that serves as the access point to communities in the Sierra Gorda de Querétaro, a region with high levels of migration to the U.S.
These Mexicans living in the U.S. make a yearly plan to meet in Laredo, Texas, at the southern border of the U.S., to advance as a group toward Mexico. Many told the news agency EFE that traveling as a group makes them feel secure and at home.
Ariadna Tapia, an immigrant who has been traveling between the U.S. and Mexico for seven years, told the news agency EFE that there is not a single moment when a person feels alone during the trip. She also said the group is escorted by the National Guard.
“You must consider where you are going to depart from and the requirements to register, but there is support staff all day long (…) It is a safe group. We are protected by the National Guard. From the moment one leaves, one is protected,” she said.
Cars and trucks full of gifts, suitcases, clothes, tools and other items parade through the entrance to Jalpan de Serra to reunite with their loved ones who live in Mexico. At the town’s entrance, they are greeted with a Mexican flag.
Political climate adds stress to annual holiday return
This year, the migrants’ arrival to Mexico happened amidst recent statements by President-elect Donald Trump promising to carry out a massive deportation of irregular migrants in the U.S.
Some families in the group, including those with proper documentation, fear that when they leave the U.S. to visit Mexico for Christmas, they may face challenges on their way back.
Aristeo Olvera, one of the organizers of the Christmas convoy, told EFE that authorities on both sides of the country have consistently collaborated and supported efforts to protect the status of Mexican immigrants upon their return to the U.S. following the holidays.
One of those efforts is the mechanism of a sanctuary city. A sanctuary city or state is a policy that discourages local authorities from reporting the immigration status of individuals unless it involves an investigation of a serious crime.
The city of Laredo was a sanctuary city until Governor Greg Abbott signed legislation banning sanctuary cities in Texas.
Despite the ban, “The government of Laredo, Texas, along with the Tourism Ministry, has always been willing and has made an effort to support us,” Olvera said.
In November, Los Angeles, California, declared itself a sanctuary city, meaning that it now prohibits the use of city resources to assist federal immigration enforcement in response to President-elect Donald Trump’s mass deportation plans. With this declaration, Los Angeles joined 560 cities, counties and jurisdictions in the United States that are “sanctuaries” for migrants.
As the days get shorter, there's no better time to curl up with a good book. (Hümâ H. Yardım/Unsplash)
Whether you’re looking for a last-minute gift or building your 2025 reading list, Mexico News Daily has you covered with our staff’s favorite books of 2024. As we head into the new year, keep an eye out for upcoming staff recommendations for movies, podcasts, music and too-good-to-miss tacos.
I’ll Sell You a Dog by Juan Pablo Villalobos
Set in Mexico City, this funny and witty novel focuses on the life of a retired taco vendor who lives in a rundown cockroach-infested building with other elderly folk. Very entertaining! —Peter Davies, chief staff writer
Canasta de cuentos mexicanos (Basket of Mexican Tales) by B. Traven
While English translations exist, this short story collection is more readily available in Spanish. For an English alternative, check out Traven’s novel “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.”
This is a collection of short stories written in 1946 by the author Bruno Traven, whose birth origin is unknown. He arrived in Mexico in 1924 after fleeing Germany, where he was condemned to death for his anarchist ideals. In Mexico he immersed himself in the culture, getting to know the Indigenous communities, especially in Chiapas. These 10 short stories amusingly convey this 20th century Mexican world view. —María Ruiz, assistant editor
Queer by William S. Burroughs
An American heroin addict cruises Mexico City’s Avenida Amsterdam and the historic center throughout the 1950s, in search of drugs, company and chasing an unhealthy obsession with someone who does almost anything but return his affections. —Chris Havler-Barrett, features editor
The Last Emperor of Mexico by Edward Shawcross
The fascinating story of European royalty Carlotta and Maximillian as they try to establish themselves as the leaders of Mexico. Reads like a telenovela! —Travis Bembenek, Mexico News Daily CEO
Salvar el fuego (Saving the Fire) by Guillermo Arraiga
The story: Marina, a married woman from Mexico’s elite, starts an affair with a man in prison. The background: a country divided by class, violence and inequality. The book is equal parts painful and suspenseful in showing a reality that many of us Mexicans completely ignore. —Gaby Solís, staff writer
México, manuel de usario (Mexico, User’s Manual) by Chumel Torres
Mexican comedian Chumel Torres explores various aspects of Mexican culture, including history, politics, religion and food as he tries to answer the question, “Mexico, why are you like this?” His unorthodox, often provocative approach will have you LOLing. —Bethany Plantanella, features writer
Almanac of the Dead by Leslie Marmon Silko
A “retired” mafia hit man from Jersey, a successful Indigenous psychic, a Chiapas insurance salesman and an ambitious Arizona real estate agent are just a few of the characters whose lives intertangle in this magic realist exploration of the Mexico-U.S. border. —Rose Egelhoff, senior news editor
An artisanal Christmas tree in Nacajuca, Tabasco. (Archive)
The Christmas tree is one of the most recognized holiday symbols across the world, and Mexico is no exception.
Different theories exist about how this seasonal decoration arrived in Mexico. While some sources say the tradition of putting up a Christmas tree in Mexico originated during the Second Mexican Empire, other sources say the tradition was brought in by German families who settled in the country in the early 1800s.
In Mexico, families purchase between 1.6 and 2 million Christmas trees each December, of which 40% are produced domestically and the rest are imported from the United States and Canada. (Cristina Espinosa Aguilar/Cuartoscuro)
While there is no conclusive story of how the Christmas tree tradition began in Mexico, this is what we know.
Origins of the Christmas tree tradition in Mexico
From the ancient Romans to the Celts in northern Europe and the Vikings in Scandinavia, evergreen trees have played an important cultural role during the winter months. Spruce, fir, hemlock and pine trees attracted admiration for being the only varieties that remained green during the freezing winter months, and ancient cultures duly decorated doors and windows with their prickly boughs.
Some even believed evergreens would keep away ghosts, witches, evil spirits and illness.
But the Christmas tree tradition as we know it today dates back to the 8th century, when Saint Boniface used an evergreen tree to convert pagan Germans to Christianity. According to the story, Boniface cut down an oak tree dedicated to Thor in the village of Geismar which residents thought was indestructible. After reading the Gospel, he offered a fir tree as a sign of peace that represented eternal life, adorning it with apples and candles.
A Christmas tree in downtown Guadalajara. (Cuartoscuro)
However, other sources say that it was Protestant reformer Martin Luther who first decorated an evergreen with candles.
Whichever the true story, Australian religious historian Carole Cusak told National Geographic in 2020 that German emigrants spread the tradition to other countries and by the 18th century, evergreen trees were used as Christmas decorations all over Europe.
The Second Mexican Empire and the Christmas tree
In 1864, Austrian archduke Maximilian I and his Belgian wife, Empress Charlotte, arrived in Mexico in an attempt to establish a monarchy in the country. Backed by Napoleon III, the Austrian archduke and brother-in-law of Elisabeth (nicknamed Sisi), the Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary, lived in Mexico for a little over two years.
Still, this brief monarchy was enough to leave traces of Austrian culture in Mexico’s history and traditions.
Durante las fiestas decembrinas de 1864, Maximiliano de Habsburgo y la emperatriz Carlota recibieron a la aristocracia mexicana en el Castillo de Chapultepec, maravillándolos con un gran árbol ataviado de esferas, luces y otros lujosos adornos traídos desde Europa. pic.twitter.com/JfsI6U2IyU
— Fideicomiso Centro Histórico de Ciudad de México (@Centro_CDMX) December 26, 2023
During this time, sources say the couple were the first ones in Mexico to bring a Christmas tree into their home in the Chapultepec Castle. According to some references, Mexico’s elite adopted the novelty but stopped doing so after Maximilian was shot in 1867.
Other references indicate that German families in Mexico were already setting up Christmas trees long before Maximilian arrived in the country.
Ultimately, sources say that the Christmas tree tradition was reinstated in Mexico after Mexican newspapers shared the news that General Miguel Negrete had set up one in his home.
The Zimapán dam in Hidalgo, Mexico. (Sara Escobar/Cuartoscuro)
Mexico’s complex relationship with water — from severe shortages to infrastructure challenges — shapes daily life across the nation.
Given the ever-accelerating impacts of climate change, reporting about water resources often falls into the alarmist category. We wanted to change that narrative.
Given the ever-accelerating impacts of climate change, reporting about water resources often falls into the alarmist category. (Cuartoscuro)
Launched this year, MND’s Water in Mexico series examines the critical issues facing Mexico’s water resources by focusing on the brilliant ideas, people and companies providing hope and solutions.
Here’s a look back at the highlights of this special series, which tells the story of water in Mexico as it evolved throughout 2024.
In May, nearly 76% of Mexico was experiencing drought conditions, according to the Drought Monitoring Agency of the National Meteorological Service (SMN). The capital’s Cutzamala System, which supplies water for approximately 22 million people, was below 30% of its capacity.
The water crisis in Mexico is driven by a confluence of factors: inequality in access, pollution and the ever-accelerating impact of climate change. (Cuartoscuro)
By many international media accounts — the Associated Press, Bloomberg and the Washington Post, among others — the city was set to reach “Day Zero,” a day when not a single drop of water would fall from the faucets, on June 26.
“Day Zero” didn’t happen in 2024. But could it happen in 2025?
As Nancy Moya writes, “With Mexico’s water crisis deepening, the nation’s ability to manage its most vital resource is increasingly at stake.”
Learn more about the particular problems impacting Mexico’s water security and what experts suggest should be done:
While Mexico’s water crisis dominated headlines in 2024, another trend captured international attention: nearshoring.
These issues are inextricably linked, as the success of nearshoring initiatives heavily depends on the availability and reliability of water resources and infrastructure.
While industrial water consumption currently represents only 4% of Mexico’s total water usage, the influx of new businesses is putting pressure on the available infrastructure and supply.
Fortunately, the increased presence of foreign companies through nearshoring could potentially catalyze the necessary infrastructure investments to mitigate water scarcity. As businesses relocate to Mexico, they bring not only economic opportunities but also the potential for technological advancements and sustainable practices in water management.
Siemens, for example, is developing automation and electrification technologies that could have a significant impact on the water and energy industries in Mexico. Read more about them here:
In addition to the private sector, communities across Mexico are spearheading innovative solutions to Mexico’s water crisis — from rainwater harvesting systems to water-efficient agriculture.
Mexico’s water crisis is complicated by widespread contamination, with a 2020 study finding that 8.8 million people are exposed to unsafe arsenic levels and over 3 million to excessive fluoride levels.
Organizations like Caminos de Agua are addressing this through water treatment plants and rainwater harvesting, while researchers at UNAM are developing electro-deionization techniques to remove contaminants.
Meanwhile, the Tikkun Eco Center in San Miguel de Allende is working to improve water access through their Agua Para la Vida project, which restores water reservoirs and implements reforestation efforts, successfully rehabilitating the San José de Gracia reservoir to hold 45 million liters of water.
As we look ahead to 2025, we remain committed to spotlighting initiatives that bolster Mexico’s water security. We invite our readers to be active participants in this crucial dialogue. If you’re aware of or involved in any water-related projects or innovations, we encourage you to share them with us at editorial@mexiconewsdaily.com.
Find the rest of our year in water headlines here.
Home Alone is a classic, of course, but why not try something a little more Mexican when you sit down in front of the TV this year? (Netflix)
Mexico, thankfully, has less ferocious markers of winter than I’m used to (four-foot snowfall, power cuts, a car that won’t come alive until basted in de-icer) and so I find myself leaning into more well-worn reminders that Christmas is coming. Delicious cliché-filled films have filled that role more than ever. Cinemas are alive this December with invitations to melt in front of blockbusters Wicked, A Complete Unknown, and Gladiator II. Despite the ever-present pull of the small screen, winter reminds us that we still want to crawl into a communal cave-like space and feel wonder at a story told through image and sound. But what do Mexican Christmas movies actually look like?
Daydreaming at my desk, I asked a few of my Mexican colleagues which films they watch at Christmas. Someone offered up Titanic — proving marathon tearjerkers for overstuffed afternoons are a global tradition — whilst another murmured about Love Actually, but there was one title that shook the table into an eruption of agreement: Mi Pobre Angelito.
We are just now being informed that this does not count as a Christmas movie. (Paramount Pictures)
Mi Pobre Angelito. I drifted off into imagining the plot of this Mexican festive favourite. Perhaps a kid’s action film where Angel Number Four’s costume for the Nativity is stolen in a mixed-up laundry order, prompting undercover spy parents to race across Mexico City and foil a network of crooked laundrettes. Or a Hallmark-style romcom where an overworked lawyer accidentally flies to Oaxaca instead of Ohio, missing her conference and meeting a mysterious “fallen angel” in the Cathedral, inspiring her to sack off the Zoom calls for good.
Awe bordering on fury met my insistence that I have not only never seen but heard of Mi Pobre Angelito and someone kindly summarised the plot. But it’s the same as Home Alone, I say. It’s identical! And that, of course, as I learn in a rosy-faced moment, is because it is Home Alone, and that this film’s star as a festive favourite is steadfast and shines worldwide.
So where are Christmas films made especially for the Mexican audiences so coveted by streamers? And if these films do exist, who is watching them? The answer to that question is ‘obviously they do’ and ‘lots of people’ – including the non-target audience of ‘me’. With a shout out to those not mentioned (Feliz NaviDAD; Feliz Christmas, Merry Navidad; El Sabor de Navidad), here’s an appetizer.
Holiday in Santa Fe (2021, Netflix)
A Spicy Date to Warm Up the Holidays | Holiday in Santa Fe | Lifetime Movie Moment
Straight into New Mexico, I know, but this film centres around Mexican family the Ochoas and their attempts to maintain their small business: that most mysterious of enterprises: the all-year Christmas shop. Belinda Sawyer, from festive conglomerate Warm Wishes, comes to buy out the Ochoas and develops steamy feelings for the business-minded son, Tony. Santa Fe is cast as a winter wonderland with ambiguous temperatures where scarves and coats are donned under the beating sun. Business chat combines with romantic wooing as Belinda and Tony discuss how “magic can’t be put into a spreadsheet” and mention the “30% tax break” in Santa Fe no less than twice whilst ice-skating, sharing margaritas, and competing in a ham throwing contest. A masterclass in how to successfully negotiate a deal whilst nurturing good relationships with future in-laws over the festive period. A feat.
Reviviendo la Navidad (2022, Netflix)
Reviviendo la Navidad | Tráiler oficial | Netflix
This original Spanish title tells you exactly what this film is about whereas the English one, A Not So Merry Christmas, doesn’t, so let’s dive in. Chuy (not coincidentally the nickname for Jesús) shares his birthday with Christmas and resents his chaotic family for constantly forgetting about it. Storming out over dinner, Chuy drinks a cursed shot of tequila served by a shapeshifting Diva Godmother and is condemned to wake up every day thenceforth on Christmas. I found myself marvelling at the way Chuy hardly ages over a decade and that the unseen 364 days of the year don’t spark more chaos in his daily life (what about work? Has he fought with anyone? Been on holiday?). One interpretation could be that this film is an existential musing on the way years drip past in a lethargy of neglect for what really matters. But of course, it’s mainly a caper comedy and kicks off with a big choreographed musical number in a mall for no reason at all, which is always supremely welcome.
Una Navidad No Tan Padre (2020, Netflix)
Una navidad no tan padre | Tráiler oficial | Netflix
Begruntled pensioner Servando and his modern family — made up of so many people you’ll need a PhD to understand the connections between them — travel to the beach in a beaten-up van to spend Christmas with glamorous widower, Alicia. Hard-hearted Servando is besotted by the soft-spoken lady of the house and whilst sparks fly, a competition between the families gathers pace on how Christmas should be spent: turkey or bacalao, snow or sand, Santa Claus or the unbearable truth? It’s delicious to hear waves lapping and feel the heat radiating off the baubles and the freneticism of friends and strangers merging over Christmas is relatable. Just don’t try and understand who the three characters turning up in the last ten minutes are, though I think the film’s prequel Un Padre No Tan Padre may offer clues.
How The Gringo Stole Christmas (2017, Netflix)
How The Gringo Stole Christmas (2023) Official Trailer - George Lopez, Mariana Treviño, Emily Tosta
Imagining a heist film, this instead turned out to be narrative bedfellows with Father of the Bride, with an added strain of that familiar, bittersweet desire to celebrate Christmas “like you did back home.” Bennie, a Mexican landscaper now living in Los Angeles, struggles when his daughter brings home her waif-like ‘gringo’ boyfriend, video game designer Leif, to join the celebrations. Through a loving family of women including Abuelita, who is constantly brandishing either a chela or a jar of Vicks VapoRub, everyone eventually comes round to Leaf, as he’s affectionally misnamed, overwatched by a friendly trio of Cholo wannabe gangsters with a jacked-up bouncing car. Stuffed full of Mexican slang and in-jokes that may or may not have soared over my head, this was nevertheless sweet and a little sassy.
Mi Niño Tizoc (1972, Amazon Prime)
El pollo del niño Tizoc
Not a scrap of tinsel in sight, yet the most authentically Christmas-spirited of the selection. We open peering down upon the liquid emerald waterways of Xochimilco and listening to the song of flower sellers Carmelito and his son Tizoc as they calmly punt their trajinera over the water. Discriminated against by other growers for their traditional methods, Carmelito and Tizoc remain steadfast as they battle a fast-changing Mexico City. You’ll want to scream at the screen when Tizoc buys a foul-smelling chicken from under the counter to save money for their Christmas dinner, and experience a heart-pounding hour as Carmelo ventures into the city to find a hospital for his ailing son, transported in a rolled-up carpet on his back. Made by Golden Age filmmaker Ismael Rodríguez, whose real-life son plays Tizoc, this is a visually enchanting step back in time about the ties that bind stronger than any other: the love between parent and child.
Bettine is from the Highlands of Scotland and now lives in Mexico City, working in film development at The Lift, Mexico’s leading independent audiovisual production company.
For Louis Rogers, spending Christmas in Guanajuato provides a balance between U.S. tradition and a more relaxed, centered approach to the holiday season. (Ellen Barone/Pinterest)
I’m decorating our artificial Christmas tree, which I bought at Guanajuato’s Embajadoras market almost 20 years ago. Every year, we take the tree out of its box, place it in a corner of the sala, and hang our ornaments.
Some are Mexican, bought from a local street vendor or in Tlalpujahua, a Pueblo Mágico in Michoacán famous for its artisanal Christmas ornament industry. Others are faded and worn, dating back to my childhood. My final stage of tree-trimming is adding the tinsel that I use year after year. I love its look, even if it gets everywhere and I’m still finding it months after we take down the tree.
Christmas in Guanajuato
Festitivies begin in earnest at the Teatro Juárez. (Pedro Sánchez/Wikimedia Commons)
In Guanajuato, the Christmas season gets off to a rollicking start on Dec. 12, the feast day celebrating Our Lady of Guadalupe, Mexico’s patron saint. At the Santuario de Guadalupe, the day is filled with prayer, music, food vendors and riotous celebration. We go early, before the crowds, to watch the faithful carrying offerings of food and flowers . Some arrive on their knees, crawling across the tiled floor of the church. While I’m not a believer, I am deeply moved by their expression of faith.
Throughout the month of December, Christmas-themed concerts and choirs are held at Guanajuato’s iconic Teatro Juárez and local churches. Many people host private parties, far more than my husband Barry and I ever went to when we spent Christmas in California. The foreign community seems to get caught up in the sense of festivity that accompanies the season here.
Celebrating when you’re not Mexican
Many resident foreigners celebrate Christmas with their adopted Mexican family. Barry and I used to do that, but we are early risers and can’t stay up til 3 a.m., for the post-mass feast. Somehow, over the years we’re learned to sleep through the fireworks that Mexicans light off during holidays — and many other days — and which produce ear-shattering bangs.
Try sleeping through these. (Mexico Insider)
On Christmas morning, we always lead a gentle hike for anyone interested, and at least 10 to 12 grateful people show up, happy to have a chance to be active. Some folks turn into future friends and others are simply passing through, but everyone seems to appreciate a group hike. In the afternoon, we stroll around and people-watch.
In honor of Barry’s British roots, we celebrate Boxing Dayon Dec. 26 by hosting a gathering at our home. Our guests always want to know what Boxing Day is, of course. The origins are still debated, but most people agree that it was the day in Britain when servants would collect their yearly bonuses, gifts and leftover foods delivered in boxes.
In my crockpot I prepare homemade wassail, which tastes similar to Mexican ponche. But the treat that disappears the fastest is my sherry trifle, a recipe I inherited from my Welsh mother-in-law. Neither foreigners nor Mexicans have a clue what a treat they’re in for. I admit yellow cake mix and packaged custard doesn’t sound especially inspiring, but everyone loves it. Trifle is one of those treats that are supposed to taste better the longer they sit around, but mine has never lasted long enough to know.
The right way to do Christmas
After many years of spending the Christmas season in Mexico, I can see my own culture more clearly, and I pick and choose which parts of it I want to include. To a U.S. American, it’s a relief that the heavy lifting of Christmas is over before it even starts in the United States. In fact, Christmas in Mexico has an uncynical innocence that reminds me of my childhood.
Spending Christmas in a culture that is not our own helps Barry and I let go of any latent Christmas scripts still hanging around. We can’t do Christmas ‘right’ in Mexico because the script doesn’t work here. We decorate our tree, walk in the hills, and sing “Oh Little Town in Bethlehem” in Spanish. While we will never be Mexican, we are accepted and welcomed here, and so is our Christmas.
Louisa Rogers and her husband Barry Evans divide their lives between Guanajuato and Eureka, on California’s North Coast. Louisa writes articles and essays about expat life, Mexico, travel, physical and psychological health, retirement and spirituality. Her recent articles can be found on her website, authory.com/LouisaRogers.
Alan Chazarro left his life and roots in the Bay Area of San Francisco to find a more authentic expression of himself in Xalapa. (All photos by Alan Chazarro)
Alan Chazaro made the bold decision to leave behind his vibrant network and life in the San Francisco Bay Area to embrace a quieter existence in Xalapa, Veracruz. For Alan and his family, the move wasn’t just a change of scenery — it was an intentional step toward grounding his young son in the linguistic, social, and cultural richness of Mexico.
Alan’s journey is the latest feature in MND’s “My American Dream is in Mexico” series, which spotlights the growing trend of Mexican-Americans reclaiming their heritage by choosing to live in Mexico. Each story delves into the motivations behind the move, the complexities of navigating dual identities, and the profound connections rediscovered in the country their parents once left behind.
First and foremost Alan identifies as a child of the Bay Area, where he was born and raised. (Nic Y/Unsplash)
Alan’s story weaves together themes of family, poetry, and the impacts of gentrification on a young family, offering a glimpse into what it means to make a home in Mexico.
Can you share your journey from discovering poetry to teaching, and what led you to writing full-time?
“Growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area, I was surrounded by diversity, hip-hop, and graffiti culture. As a teenager, I found my voice through rap and graffiti — spray-painting walls at night with my friends — because those were things my peers respected. Poetry, on the other hand, wasn’t something I could openly claim back then.
My journey into poetry was slow. It wasn’t until I sat in a classroom, away from my friends, that I started taking it seriously. Reading poets like Walt Whitman for the first time at 18 or 19 really drew me in. His sense of community, caring for others, and paying attention to the world resonated deeply. Poetry gave me a sense of value, confidence, and belonging — something I needed but didn’t realize was missing.
Alan spent much of career teaching across the United States, often working with at risk children.
Later, I spent a decade teaching high school in high-need areas, from New Orleans to Boston. Many of my students had been expelled, faced homelessness, or spent time in jail. That work taught me so much — about appreciating what I have and about the resilience of young people who feel invisible, like I did growing up as a Latino boy with immigrant parents. It also deepened my belief in the importance of helping others feel seen and heard.
After 10 years, I was exhausted and needed a change. I applied to grad school for poetry at the University of San Francisco and received a fellowship, which meant I didn’t have to pay—an amazing privilege in the U.S. That’s when I transitioned from teaching to writing full-time. I channeled all the energy I’d spent on lesson plans and mentoring into my art, and that’s how I wrote my first two books.”
What role does identity play in your poetry and storytelling?
“I realized my upbringing was pretty unique. As a Latino, growing up without an everyday mother in my house was already transformative. Then, on top of that, being Mexican-American and growing up in the San Francisco Bay Area added its own layers. San Francisco is such an innovative and politically open place. I was going to protests as a teenager because that’s just the kind of environment San Francisco has always been — progressive and caring about others. That mindset naturally made its way into my poetry.
Being from the Bay Area is a big part of my identity — it’s number one for me. Then, being the son of immigrants comes next, and growing up in a single-parent household is another layer. As I started peeling back these parts of myself, I realized I didn’t know too many poets with my background or my path. Even the Latino poets I was reading were mostly traditional Chicanos from L.A., but that wasn’t me. I was a nerd from Silicon Valley who grew up watching Star Wars.
At the time, I hadn’t read a book that felt like it was written for someone like me. A lot of us feel that something needs to be said that hasn’t been said yet, and I thought maybe I could say it. That’s what drove my first books. I wanted to be the Bay Area Mexican-American millennial nerd I hadn’t seen in literature. My hope was that others like me — not exactly like me, but people who felt unseen — could find themselves in my work, or feel inspired to write their own stories after reading mine.”
What was the inspiration behind Notes from the Eastern Span, your 2021 book?
“I wrote my most recent poetry book from the perspective of the Bay Bridge, which connects Oakland and San Francisco. When I was growing up in San Francisco, the bridge was old and eventually torn down to make way for this new, shiny white bridge. To me, that bridge became a symbol of gentrification. It felt like a gut punch, and I think a lot of people from the Bay Area feel the same way.
In the U.S., Alan felt torn between his Mexican identity, and a relentless march of progress that did not value him or his history.
Growing up in a place like San Francisco, you see so much change over time. People come in, driven by Tiktok, social media, and the ways the world works now, and gentrification pushes out people who’ve been there for generations. It’s painful to watch friends, family, and even students no longer able to afford to live where they grew up. There’s a sense of loss — not just of people, but of culture and connection.
This third book emerged from processing that sense of loss. The destruction and rebuilding of the bridge felt like a metaphor for the transformation of the Bay Area. The new bridge wasn’t built for people like my dad, a Mexican immigrant; it was for a new wave of tech industry arrivals who often lack the same history or deep connections to the community. Today, San Francisco is the most childless major city in the U.S. and likely one of the cities with the widest wealth gap among its residents”
How has your personal experience with gentrification influenced your decision to move to Mexico?
“My mom always told us to be proud of being Mexican and reminded us that we weren’t white. As I got older, that shaped my connection to Mexico. When it comes to gentrification, I feel like I was pushed out of where I grew up in California. So, I was careful about where I moved to in Mexico. I didn’t want to go to Mexico City, Guadalajara, or even San Miguel de Allende, which is beautiful but full of foreigners. I’m not against people moving, but I didn’t want to just live in a city, go to the cool restaurants, and feel disconnected.
That’s why I chose Xalapa. There aren’t many Americans here, and even my family makes fun of me for being the gringo, which I’m fine with. I wanted to be here because my family lives here — my mom and my abuela — and I wanted my son to grow up in a community. I didn’t want to be one of those expats moving to places like Cancun or Tulum. I’ve met people who move here without a connection to Mexico, and sometimes they act entitled, thinking they know more about the country than people who’ve lived here their whole lives. To me, that’s part of gentrification. I didn’t want to be in that group. I wanted to live a Mexican life in Mexico speaking Spanish.”
How does living in Veracruz compare to life in the Bay Area?
“My wife Briana and I first got a taste of Mexico in 2019 and returned to the Bay Area in 2020 when COVID hit, but living in Mexico was always in our hearts. We wanted to give our son, Maceo, a life that was rich and full of experiences because that’s something that we both created for ourselves. Mexico became the place where we could own a home and have the time to really be with him. In the Bay Area, you’re constantly driving, working long hours, stuck in traffic, and there’s little time or space for family.
People in the U.S. are addicted to work and the stress of it all, while in Mexico, there’s a much better family life balance. The U.S. is stressful and divided politically, and we felt that Mexico, with our family connections and our ability to speak Spanish, was the place where we could spend these early years with Maceo. It’s a huge privilege that we even have this choice, but Mexico allows for family life to take center stage in a way the U.S. doesn’t.”
Alan and his family (seen here in Mexico City) have now relocated to Xalapa, Veracruz.
How has your identity as a U.S.-born Mexican-American shaped your experience in Mexico?
“As I’ve grown older, I’ve come to see being Mexican-American as a “third culture.” I don’t pretend to be fully Mexican or gringo. There are Mexican-Americans who feel more connected to either side, but for me, it’s about embracing my unique blend of experiences — like the Bay Area hip-hop and fusion culture I grew up with. I’m proud of my Mexican heritage and have worked to connect with it, which is why I live in Mexico with my son. But I also don’t get offended when people here see me as gringo. I remind myself that I’ve had the privilege to experience more than many of my relatives who’ve never left home. As my wife says, it takes courage to leave what you know and walk in another world.”
What advice would you give to other Mexican-Americans considering a move to Mexico?
“My biggest advice is to spend time in the place you’re considering moving to and trust your intuition. As a writer, I’ve learned to listen to my gut, and moving to Mexico felt like a calling for me. Don’t let others’ doubts, like concerns about safety, distract you. Block out the noise and really listen to yourself. Moving here wasn’t easy — leaving my job, buying a home, and relocating my family — but I trusted that it was the right decision. And if things don’t work out, it’s okay to pivot.”
Rocio is based in Mexico City and is the creator of CDMX iykyk, a newsletter designed to keep expats, digital nomads and the Mexican diaspora in the loop. The biweekly dispatches feature top news, cultural highlights, upcoming CDMX events & local recommendations. For your dose of must-know news about Mexico,subscribe here.
