Mexico's enormous natural diversity and wonder inspired the author to pick up her sketchbook again after a 30 year hiatus. (Bel Woodhouse)
It all started with a twisted scarlet seedpod … such a beautiful, unexpected thing lying at my feet. Then curiosity set in, and I began to notice the plants around me.
Mexico’s amazing plants eventually inspired not just curiosity, but creativity. Thus, for the first time in 30 years, I picked up a sketchbook again. That was two and a half years ago. Today, my third sketchbook is almost complete.
1 of 6
Pages are filled with huge leaves, wildflowers and edible treasures like tejocote, mamey and nance; plus, seedpods of all shapes and sizes. Native plants, edible plants, healing plants … I’ve sketched them all, plus the pollinating creatures they attract: butterflies, metallic green bees and beetles.
Now, I am an artist. Bel the Batty Botanist. I deeply thank Mexico for this.
A passion for natural beauty
The medicinal healing properties of native plants have become a passion, as have edible plants. Enjoying edible treasures like Jamaican cherries that taste like cotton candy. Or the crunchy delights of pepino kat, a long, ribbed cucumber-like fruit.
It seems every time I step outside, something delights me. The cheery yellow of Mexican prickly poppies, the plant of resilience and endurance, waving in the sunshine. The smell of vanilla from beach spider lilies after a swim.
These botanical beauties inspire my art. I sketch in black ballpoint pen or fine-line markers, with watercolor pencils and paints and on different-colored papers. Which, I must say, really makes a white subject shine.
Inspired by seeing a chicalote, a native white poppy in the Central Highlands, I looked for ways to capture its brilliance. Soft gray paper for a dreamy, romantic feel seemed right. Because, to me, poppies are dreamy.
1 of 6
Sometimes it’s nice to sit quietly. As seen on my passionflower page. Within 20 minutes, while sketching, I witnessed a Gulf fritillary butterfly lay eggs. I saw its spiky orange caterpillars varying from tiny to huge, ready to form their chrysalis … mature butterflies pollinating the flowers. An entire life cycle was revealed to me on a single vine.
Other times, a collection of found treasures inspires something new. Hurricane Beryl two years ago, for example, brought down a bounty of botanical treasures for me to paint.
So, who knows what I’ll find tomorrow. Something as beautiful as that twisted scarlet seedpod, I hope. But I bet it will be magical.
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.
The official death toll for the Tlatelolco Massacre in 1968 was 44, but other sources estimate it in the hundreds. (Wikimedia Commons/Andrés Barrios)
The Tlatelolco student massacre of 1968 — one of the most pivotal events in modern Mexican history, one that the renowned National Security Archive organization has called “Mexico’s Tiananmen Square” — all began with a fracas between two rival public vocational high schools that erupted into an out-and-out brawl in a Mexico City marketplace built for the upcoming 1968 Olympics.
The next day, riot police arrived at the two schools, wielding clubs and beating anyone within reach, attacking students and faculty with equal brutality. The following day, students took to the streets in protest of the previous day’s beating, which then, in turn, drew the police out for more violent confrontations.
Violent military repression occurred against students following demonstrations during the Mexican Movement of 1968. (Wikimedia Commons/Cel·lí)
How protests escalated into the 1968 Tlatelolco Massacre
“Those protests provoked more repression, which provoked more protests,” journalists Julia Preston and Samuel Dillon explained in their 2005 book, “Opening Mexico: The Making of a Democracy.”
By the fourth day of protests, tensions escalated. To express solidarity with their fellow teenage protesters, the students of the prestigious high school, San Ildefonso Preparatory — officially known as the National Preparatory School — declared a strike. When Mexican President Gustavo Díaz Ordaz learned that the students at the prestigious government-run school were on strike, he ordered the Mexican army to take the campus.
Soldiers in Jeeps and small tanks moved across the city, aiming to confront the students of San Ildefonso. When they arrived at the campus, they found the entrance locked, so soldiers blew the school’s ornate 18th-century wooden door, hand-carved by Indigenous craftsmen, to bits.
The soldiers rampaged through the school, beating anyone they could find. They then turned on other high schools, and even attacked unsuspecting pedestrians they encountered on surrounding streets.
“By the end of the day, 400 people had been hospitalized and 1,000 arrested,” Preston and Dillon noted. “Through the military occupation of the San Ildefonso School, the government elevated the situation from a local, primarily police matter to an issue of national security,” wrote Mexican historian Enrique Krauze, author of the seminal book “Mexico: Biography of Power.”
A teacher talks to soldiers while students protest in the background on July 30, 1968. (Wikimedia Commons/Public Domain)
A history of government repression
For most Mexicans, government repression was nothing new. In 1959, railroad workers who went on strike, asking for better working conditions and a modest pay increase, were viciously put down, a pattern well-established with striking miners, doctors, nurses and even teachers. Strikers were routinely either beaten into submission or cajoled into joining a newly created government-run union. But this episode — the government violently attacking a high school — stunned most Mexicans.
In response, on July 31, Javier Barros Sierra, the politically moderate rector of the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) — which was in charge of San Ildefonso Preparatory and is the largest and most prestigious university in Latin America — led a dignified, peaceful march of 50,000 faculty and students through Mexico City’s leafy suburbs.
That Barros had the temerity to lead such a protest earned him the enmity of Díaz Ordaz; later that summer, it cost him his job. That march, however, moved the center of protests against the government from Mexico’s high schools to its universities.
Taking inspiration from the U.S. civil rights movement and the earlier 1968 student protest movements in Paris, West Germany, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Japan, the Mexican university student activists had happened upon an issue that already deeply resonated with the general Mexican public: government brutality.
Students stand up in dissent
Raúl Álvarez Garín, a 27-year-old physics student from Mexico’s National Polytechnic Institute, emerged as one of the student leaders. Álvarez came from a family steeped in a tradition of protest and of standing up for its beliefs. His grandfather was an aide to Mexican Revolutionary General Álvaro Obregón. His parents were communists. His wife was the daughter of one of the leaders of the aforementioned railroad workers’ strike of 1959.
Álvarez helped draw up a modest list of demands: The government should release the recently jailed students, as well as the railroad union leaders still imprisoned since 1959. They should also compensate the families of injured protesters, disband the riot police and repeal vague laws used to jail anyone who dissented with the government.
Gustavo Díaz Ordaz Bolaños, seen here meeting U.S. President Richard Nixon, was Mexico’s president from 1964 to 1970 and was used to dealing with dissenters. (Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain)
Álvarez and his fellow activists weren’t advocating regime change or overthrowing the government. They were advocating that the political process in Mexico become more tolerant, open and democratic. But, for Díaz Ordaz, this was beyond the pale. The government never responded to the demands.
In the face of government silence, the student activists decided to hold a march from the southern suburbs to the Zócalo. They set the date for August 13, hoping to attract a few followers. On that day, by the time they reached the Zócalo, there were 200,000 people in tow. While many were students and families of students, there were also nurses, teachers, and every kind of worker in the city in the crowd. Speeches were delivered, and the event was entirely peaceful. As Preston and Dillon pointed out, “The unexpected size of the crowd proved that the students were voicing frustrations felt by Mexicans of all ages in a modernizing Mexico.”
A warning to protesters
The students then planned another march to the Zócalo for August 27, and this time, 400,000 people showed up. On this occasion, though, some students congregated under the balcony of the National Palace, the building from which Mexican presidents traditionally preside over annual Independence Day celebrations, standing on a balcony. Those students then started chanting, “Sal al balcón, chango hocicón” (“Come out to the balcony, you big-snouted monkey”) — referring to Díaz Ordaz’s pronounced buckteeth and frequent comparisons to a monkey.
As nighttime fell, most protesters left, but at the approach of midnight, a few thousand stragglers continued to mill around. At that point, a dozen armored personnel carriers rolled into the Zócalo; the army mercilessly beat any remaining protesters.
Then on September 1, Díaz Ordaz delivered his annual State of the Union address, essentially offering a warning.
“We can’t allow our legal order to continue to be ruptured so inexcusably,” the president declared in his speech. “We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in a situation where we would have to take measures we don’t want to. But we’ll take them if we must. We’ll go as far as we have to.”
Soldiers in a prone firing position during a violent confrontation with students at the Santo Tomás campus. (Gobierno de Mexico)
Unfortunately, the students did not recognize the warning.
Politician and ex-education minister of Mexico City Salvador Martínez della Roca, one of the student leaders from UNAM at the time, told U.S. journalist Mark Kurlansky, “It was a threat, but we didn’t really listen.”
By September 24, “Mexico City was living under a barely camouflaged state of siege,” Krauze explains.
Mexican military mobilizes against campuses
On that day, the army seized the National Polytechnic Institute (IPN), known colloquially as the Politécnico; government forces had already occupied the UNAM campus. IPN students fought the army for hours, but there was only so much that unarmed civilians could do against tanks.
Although the army withdrew from both campuses on September 30, the message had been sent. Unfortunately, students failed to recognize that, for Díaz Ordaz’s government, a hard-and-fast deadline was quickly approaching: the 1968 Olympic Games, scheduled to begin in Mexico City on Oct. 12.
The Olympics were seen by many in the nation as Mexico’s moment to shine: The world no longer saw it as a chaotic, strife-ridden backwater nation but as the “Mexico Miracle” — with a powerful economy and a newly minted middle class. From the 1950s through the 1960s, Mexico’s economy had grown at 6% per annum (8% in 1968). In 1968, Mexico had the strongest economy in all of Latin America, with an inflation rate lower than the United States.
President Díaz Ordaz was not about to let students disrupt the Summer Olympics, which began in Mexico City on Oct. 12, 1968. (Wikimedia Commons/Sergio V. Rodriguez)
Díaz Ordaz was not about to let a bunch of long-haired students, whom he viewed as spoiled, ruin the opening of the Olympic Games and Mexico’s moment of glory.
President Díaz Ordaz sees conspiracies everywhere
Much like former U.S. president Richard Nixon, Díaz Ordaz was a tremendously insecure man, about his appearance and when interacting with others. “Ever since he was a little boy, the sense of being ugly had tortured him,” Krauze explained. “His mother would freely say to anyone, ‘But what an ugly son I have!’ It would take its toll on his life.”
And much like Nixon, Díaz Ordaz saw conspiracies everywhere. If students were protesting, it must be at the behest of French communists or Cuban agitators. In reality, this seems unlikely; even the CIA station chief in Mexico City, Winston Scott, doubted it.
“Although the [Mexican] government claims to have solid evidence that the Communist Party engineered the fracas of 26 July, and reportedly had indications of Soviet Embassy complicity, it is unlikely that the Soviets would so undermine their carefully nurtured good relations with the Mexicans,” Scott told CIA headquarters at the time.
It never occurred to Díaz Ordaz that it was, in fact, his policies — or his overreaction to a minor skirmish — that spurred the student protests.
After a few more protests, at which some buses were set on fire, the student leaders scheduled a rally to be held on October 2 at the Plaza de las Tres Culturas. This plaza sits in the Tlatelolco neighborhood on the north side of Mexico City. Perhaps more than any other site, it best represents Mexican history: Aztec ruins there are flanked by a Franciscan church.
Students being detained after a confrontation with police during the Mexican Movement of 1968. (Gobierno de Mexico)
In the 1960s, the ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI) government built a housing project there, one building of which was Edificio Chihuahua. The third floor of the Edificio Chihuahua had an open-air hallway with a three-foot wall overlooking the plaza. It was from this third-floor balcony that the speakers decided to address the crowd on October 2.
The day of the Tlatelolco Massacre
By 8:30 a.m. that morning, the army had taken up positions in each corner of the plaza — not necessarily unusual — as the army often posted soldiers at protest rallies. But something about this day seemed off: Witnesses later mentioned seeing men with short haircuts in civilian clothes, all wearing a white glove on one hand.
Myrthokleia Gonzáles Gallardo, a 22-year-old Politécnico student, had been chosen to introduce the speakers that day, even though her parents warned her not to go, fearing something might happen with the increased military presence.
Myrthokleia described her entry into the Plaza:
“As I approached the Tlatelolco with the four speakers, I was introduced, and we were warned to be careful, as the army had been seen nearby. But I wasn’t afraid, though we decided to make it a short meeting. There were workers, students, and families coming into the plaza, filling it up. We didn’t see any [soldiers] in the plaza.
“We took our place on the third floor and started our speeches. Suddenly, off to the left, over the church, were helicopters with a green light. Suddenly, everyone down in the plaza started falling. And then men with white gloves and weapons appeared, maybe from the elevator. They ordered us down to the ground floor, where they began beating us.”
Authorities pose with weapons confiscated during a student protest at the Santo Tomás campus. (Gobierno de Mexico)
Gunfire erupts and continues for hours
Raúl Álvarez Garín was also whisked down to the ground floor and made to stand facing a wall as government forces beat him relentlessly. Álvarez remembered the sound of automatic gunfire continuing for a full two hours. Other witnesses remember sporadic gunfire until 11 p.m.
The next morning, journalist Elena Poniatowska arrived at Tlatelolco at dawn. There were tanks and soldiers everywhere, yet no one tried to impede her strolling around the plaza. She had heard from a friend that bodies covered the plaza, but by morning, they all had been taken away.
In the newspaper Excelsior,Poniatowska learned that Italian journalist Oriana Fallaci was in Mexico to cover the Olympics and had been wounded while attending the rally. Poniatowska tracked down Fallaci in a hospital and interviewed her.
“What savagery!” Fallaci told her. “Police dragging students away by the hair. I saw many people get hit — until I was hit too. I lay in a pool of my own blood for 45 minutes.”
Shocked by what she heard, Poniatowska wrote an article detailing the events. Her editor immediately rejected it.
“There’s an order,” the editor announced, according to Preston and Dillon. “We’re going to concentrate on the Olympic Games. We’re not printing anything more about Tlatelolco.”
Remains of a bullet hole at Santiago Tlatelolco from 1968. (Wikimedia Commons/Protoplasma Kid)
The legacy of the Tlatelolco Massacre
The Tlatelolco student massacre was a tragic and immensely consequential event in Mexican history. The Olympic Games may have gone off without a hitch, but at what cost? Over 400 people were murdered in cold blood by government troops. Hundreds more simply disappeared, never heard from again. Hundreds more were imprisoned for years. Hundreds, if not thousands, went into hiding, fearing retaliation for simply expressing their ideas about the nature of their society.
Before 1968, most Mexicans felt proud of their nation’s economic achievements. During the Mexican Revolution, one leader after another had been brutally assassinated. In the wake of the Revolution, the PRI provided stability and economic growth, and Mexico had become a modern nation. In 1959, American academics conducted a poll and found that while most Mexicans were tired of their country’s endemic corruption, they were generally proud of their political system and its achievements and felt their presidents were, for the most part, benign. After 1968, however, most middle-class Mexicans felt disillusioned, resentful and utterly distrustful of their government.
Perhaps the students’ National Strike Council (CNH) final statement, issued in December 1968 upon its dissolution, summed it up best:
“Democracy in Mexico is just a concept, another formalism,” it announced. “Politics is carried out behind the backs of the popular majorities and of their aspirations, interests and demands.”
While the student movement of 1968 was neutralized, the Tlatelolco massacre has had a long-lasting impact on Mexican politics and history: More than 50 years later, October 2 is commemorated every year across Mexico with civilian demonstrations. Films and documentaries and countless books have been written about it — in Mexico and around the world.
Groundwork laid in 1968 also spawned a generation of the nation’s activists and political leaders, who were involved in Mexico’s electoral reform in the 1980s, which ultimately led to the end of the PRI’s uninterrupted rule over Mexico for 70 years in 2000, with Vicente Fox’s election as president.
A memorial remembering the 1968 student massacre at Tlatelolco. (Wikimedia Commons/Ralf Roletschek)
Kurlansky, in his book “1968: The Year that Rocked the World,” commented: “But very much in the same way that the invasion of Czechoslovakia was the (beginning of the) end of the Soviet Union, Tlatelolco was the unseen beginning of the end of the end of the PRI.”
Robert McLaughlin, Ph.D. is a historian specializing in Cold War Latin American history.
Students from the Emiliano Zapata Popular Revolutionary Union took to the streets of Toluca in México state to commemorate the students killed on Oct. 2, 1968, in Tlatelolco and the 43 students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Teachers College who went missing in 2014. (Crisanta Espinosa Aguilar/Cuartoscuro)
Attacks on and by students, a political comeback and the memory of past violence marked the week of Sept. 28 in Mexico. Two 17-year-old students from a prep school affiliated with the Autonomous University of the State of Morelos (UAEM) were shot dead in Cuernavaca on Saturday night, weeks after the Sept. 12 killing of Spanish exchange student Claudia Tacoronte. That brings to six the number of UAEM students murdered in Morelos this year. After students and members of the Somos party protested Sunday outside the state attorney general’s office, President Claudia Sheinbaum announced a special security plan for Morelos on Monday.
On Friday, the 58th anniversary of the Tlatelolco massacre, students, rural normalistas and parents of the 43 missing Ayotzinapa students marched from Mexico City’s Plaza de las Tres Culturas to the Zócalo. In Cuernavaca, students and families of slain youths marched for justice, and some protesters set fire to the exterior of the state government palace, causing no major damage, according to Animal Político. Morelos ranked first nationally in homicide rates among both 13-to-17-year-olds and 18-to-29-year-olds from January to August, the outlet noted.
Former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador resurfaced Wednesday with an 80-minute video message promoting his new book, “Pueblo,” which he dedicated to Sheinbaum, calling her “the best president in the world.” On Thursday, the second anniversary of her inauguration, Sheinbaum cited approval ratings of up to 75%, pointing to polls by FactoMétrica (74.9%) and El Financiero (70%). Meanwhile, Morena named its 17 presumptive candidates for the governorships up for election on June 6, 2027, including ex-Financial Intelligence Unit chief Santiago Nieto in Querétaro and Clara Luz Flores in Nuevo León.
Didn’t have time to catch this week’s top stories? Here’s what you missed.
Ebrard optimistic about trade talks
Bilateral negotiations of the USMCA trade agreement continued in the United States this week. Economy Minister Marcelo Ebrard said Thursday that Mexico and the U.S. are getting “closer every day” to new trade terms. Speaking on the sidelines of a G-20 meeting in Milwaukee, Ebrard said he had held a one-hour meeting with U.S. Trade Representative Jamieson Greer. His priorities are reducing Section 232 tariffs on Mexican autos, steel, aluminum and copper, and preserving preferential treatment for USMCA-compliant goods.
Ebrard said Mexico is in a better position than most countries at the summit, crediting Sheinbaum’s handling of relations with President Donald Trump. An anonymous Mexican official told France 24 that Mexico expects reductions on steel, cars and aluminum and is content to be patient if no deal arrives before the U.S. midterms on Nov. 3. Ebrard also confirmed a “new stage” in relations with India, where talks include tequila, which faces a 150% tariff.
Hurricane Polo hits Baja California Sur, then Sonora
After lingering off Mexico’s Pacific coast for much of a week, Hurricane Polo made landfall in Baja California Sur late Monday near Las Barrancas, in Comondú. It arrived as a Category 2 storm, far weaker than the Category 5 it reached days earlier, when it became one of the most rapidly intensifying storms on record. Before reaching the peninsula, it caused at least four deaths in Jalisco.
Polo dropped 15-30 centimeters of rain on Baja California Sur, but authorities reported no deaths or injuries. “There was more water than wind,” Gov. Víctor Manuel Castro Cosío said. The storm then crossed the Gulf of California and lashed the Sonora coast on Tuesday as a Category 1 hurricane, causing flooding, power outages and downed trees in Guaymas and Empalme.
Vice principal killed in Torreón school attack
On Thursday, two 18-year-old twin brothers who were former students attacked the Number 13 Secondary School in Torreón, Coahuila, with machetes and rudimentary explosives. Vice principal Nery Edith Narváez González was killed, and Security Minister Omar García Harfuch said four people were injured. Students helped restrain the suspects.
At her Friday mañanera, Sheinbaum announced a working group to demand that social media platforms remove content promoting violence. Luisa María Alcalde, Sheinbaum’s top legal adviser, will lead it, and a decree setting platform obligations is expected to be drafted next week. Authorities say the brothers were inspired by attackers abroad whom they learned about online.
Senate passes dual nationality ban for top offices
The Senate approved a constitutional reform on Tuesday requiring exclusive Mexican nationality for presidential, gubernatorial and Mexico City mayoral aspirants. The vote was 86 to 42, with Morena, the PT and the PVEM in favor. The bill needs ratification by at least 17 state legislatures, and would take effect in 2028 without affecting current officeholders. “The presidents of Mexico can only have one flag,” Sheinbaum said Wednesday.
Members of the National Action Party (PAN) staged a protest on the Senate floor under the argument that the reform represents a betrayal of migrants. (Cuartoscuro)
Ayotzinapa: Authorities present 4 new lines of investigation
Twelve years after 43 students from the Ayotzinapa Rural Teachers College were abducted in Iguala, Guerrero, after municipal police stopped their bus on Sept. 26, 2014, federal officials outlined four new lines of investigation on Monday. Sheinbaum had stressed that morning that the case is “not closed” and that the students’ parents had been briefed. The remains of only three students have been identified, and 168 people face judicial proceedings, but no one has been convicted.
The first line stems from analysis of phone records, which identified 17 new suspects and calls between Guerreros Unidos members and staff at funeral homes and the health sector. Investigators say an Iguala funeral parlor owner who also ran forensic services used a student’s phone, prompting searches. In October 2025, authorities found a human femur, a firearm and an unregistered crematorium oven. Searches between March and June 2026 turned up hundreds of bone fragments, dental prostheses and bullet casings, now under expert analysis.
The second line, based on three students’ phones later used by a municipal official, a police officer and people close to an ex-public servant, strengthens the hypothesis that 17 students were taken to the Iguala municipal lockup. The third identified a new suspect who was 14 at the time and whose July 30 statement implicates Guerreros Unidos members. The fourth concerns the concealment of courthouse security video from that night, which led to the arrests of a former judge and inspector and the Aug. 6 arrest of former Guerrero Gov. Ángel Aguirre.
Deputy Interior Minister Arturo Medina said 17 soldiers face prosecution but that the army as an institution is not accused. Tomás Zerón, the former head of the Criminal Investigation Agency, remains at large in Israel.
Oaxaca prosecutors investigate six municipal presidents
After the Sept. 23 arrest of Juchitán Mayor Miguel Sánchez Altamirano over alleged ties to a CJNG-linked group, the Oaxaca Attorney General’s Office has opened cases against six other municipal presidents, all tied to Juchitán. Attorney General Bernardo Rodríguez said they come from “different political affiliations.” A warrant was issued for Mariano Rosado, Sánchez’s second-in-command, and Emilio Montero resigned as head of the state’s public education institute. The Isthmus of Tehuantepec has recorded 957 murders since 2022, 70% linked to the “Los Cromos” gang.
Airlines abandon Tulum
Aeroméxico suspended its Tulum flights after Sept. 30, and Volaris then announced it will end service starting Jan. 7, 2027. The airport handled 471,500 travelers from January to June, a 33.2% drop from last year, and beachfront hotel occupancy was below 20% by mid-September. Volaris pointed to rising costs for foreign visitors, including a planned 35% increase in the non-resident fee.
The Tulum airport, officially the Felipe Carrillo Puerto International Airport, opened by former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador in 2023 in anticipation of ever-increasing tourism in Tulum, will no longer be receiving Aeroméxico flights as of Thursday or flights from Volaris starting Jan. 7, 2027. (Shutterstock)
Peso nosedives as growth, jobs and exports impress
Peso returns to 18 to the dollar
The peso weakened to 18 per U.S. dollar on Monday, a 6.2% drop from the month’s strongest close of 16.89 on Sept. 4. The newspaper El Financiero blamed risk aversion, higher oil prices after Trump rejected an Iranian proposal on the Strait of Hormuz, and a tighter U.S. Federal Reserve, which raised its rate by 25 basis points to 3.75%-4%. The peso ended Friday at 18.16, and Banco Base’s Gabriela Siller said it could end the year near 2025’s close of 18.0080.
The slide came just after the MND Peso Index™ found the peso to be 5.8% overvalued in early September, its highest reading yet, comparing a 16.98 Banxico FIX rate with an MND Peso Rate of 17.96. With the peso now near 18, that gap has largely closed, at least for now.
Economy grows 3.3% in July
Mexico’s economy grew 3.3% year over year in July, the strongest monthly result of 2026, according to INEGI, with services up 4% and the secondary sector 2.4%. Pantheon Economics’ Andrés Abadía said July puts the third quarter in a “much stronger position than expected,” but that one month doesn’t make a sustained recovery.
Employment tops 60 million
Labor Minister Marath Bolaños said Monday that 60.7 million people were employed at the end of August, up 1.2 million from a year earlier. He didn’t mention that 55% of workers are in the informal sector.
Exports surge, led by computers
Exports rose 40.4% annually in August and 29.3% through eight months, reaching a record US $549.4 billion. Non-automotive manufacturing, mainly computer equipment, was up more than 63% in August. Mexico exported nearly $83 billion in servers, 93.9% of them to the U.S. Analysts flagged the dependence and reliance on Asian suppliers, with Taiwan providing about 44% of key inputs.
Looking ahead
Morelos security: Sheinbaum said the federal government will coordinate with Gov. Margarita González Saravia on where support is needed, and Interior Minister Rosa Icela Rodríguez has been in touch with the UAEM rector. Cuernavaca Mayor José Luis Urióstegui has warned that security leadership could change if there are no results within two weeks.
Social media decree: Security Minister García Harfuch said work on a decree setting obligations for platforms to detect and remove violent content is expected to begin next week.
Dual nationality reform: The bill heads to the state legislatures, where Morena holds majorities. Sen. Jasmin Bugarín, who was born in Los Angeles, has pledged to renounce her U.S. citizenship.
Trade and the peso: Tariff talks continue ahead of the Nov. 3 U.S. midterms. The peso’s gap with the dollar could widen if the Fed raises rates again next month.
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.
Moving to a city as cosmopolitan as Mexico City is a big step, especially for those still in their 20s and from another country. (Arturo Arambula/Unsplash)
If you move to Mexico City in your 20s, I hope it becomes a home and not just a destination.
I came to Mexico at 25 thinking I was moving abroad one more time. I had already lived outside Spain, so I knew what it meant to arrive somewhere new, figure out a city, make friends and eventually find my way around. I thought Mexico City would be another chapter in that story.
Mexico City, like Paris or New York, is one of those places where you find things you didn’t even know you were looking for. (Andrea Leopardi/Unsplash)
A year later, I realized something else happened. I didn’t just move to Mexico; I started building a life here.
When you’re in your 20s, it’s easy to romanticize starting over somewhere else. How many of us, after a mental breakdown, have thought about leaving everything behind? Maybe moving to Paris like Blair, or finding the messy, exciting life Carrie Bradshaw had in New York City in her 30s.
I’m not saying New York or Paris won’t give you what you need to find. They might. But I found something in Mexico City that I wasn’t necessarily looking for: a place where I could become a slightly different version of myself.
For me, my 20s have become less about figuring everything out and more about asking better questions. Do I want to become a mother? Will I get married? What do I want my career to look like? What kind of woman do I want to become? What do I want my future family to look like? I don’t have the answers yet. But living abroad has made me more conscious of the questions.
When I told my friends in Europe that I was moving to Mexico, some of them were worried. I wasn’t particularly afraid. My biggest concern was more mundane: I love walking, and I simply wondered whether I would be able to walk as much as I did back home. I quickly found out I could. I walk from our apartment in San Miguel de Chapultepec to Condesa to see friends, or go to a class. I walk through Chapultepec Park almost every day, and sometimes all the way to Polanco, which can take close to an hour.
One of the first things Mexico City taught me was how easily we can misunderstand places we’ve never experienced ourselves.
Not only does moving to Mexico introduce you to new places, but new people, too. (Evan Wise/Unsplash)
Before coming to Mexico, I only knew two Mexicans. They had been exchange students in Finland when I was studying there in 2020 and 2021. We weren’t friends. I just remember them being very good at beer pong and drinking rum or gin with water.
Then I arrived. And I started meeting people.
Finding kindness in the unlikeliest moments
Before Mexico, the country that completely changed my understanding of human connection was Cuba. I would need to write another article about everything that island gave me, but I truly thought nothing could surprise me in the same way again. Until Mexico did.
On my third day living in Mexico City, I was waiting in line to pay for a haircut. The woman behind me noticed what I was doing and immediately told me there was a cheaper hairdresser in the shop across the street. This act of kindness was the first one that people have shown me here. They aren’t normally dramatic moments, but they happen very often. Sometimes it is smiling in the street, starting a conversation or simply making an effort when they have no reason to.
At home, you move through your busy day surrounded by people and routines that are familiar. Abroad, you become more aware of your interactions, and they end up becoming part of what makes a place feel like yours.
There was another adjustment I was not expecting. As a European — very active and not particularly patient — I was struck by how slowly life seemed to move here. I learned that “ahorita” doesn’t necessarily mean right now. It can mean soon. It can mean later. Most of the time it’s just a polite way of saying something will happen when it happens. And you’ll get your coffee when you’re meant to get it. If you’re in a hurry, I recommend you insist a couple of times.
How different neighborhoods shape who you are
Every street and neighborhood in Mexico City has its own rhythm. (Gina Rivera/Unsplash)
One of the things that continues to amaze me about Mexico City is how different each neighborhood feels. Polanco and Santa Fe have their own rhythm: business, luxury, restaurants, offices, polished cars and people dressed for work.
Then you go to Condesa or Roma, and suddenly you’re surrounded by leafy streets, cafes, parks and lots of dogs. I spend a lot of time in Parque México with a good friend of mine who has lived here since 2024, and we still find ourselves surprised by what we see: people dancing, doing karate, playing pickleball, learning to skate, practicing hula-hoop, someone selling poems, couples sitting on benches, foreigners taking photographs of a scene that locals barely notice because, to them, it’s simply Tuesday. That is Mexico City.
The Historic Center still leaves me speechless: the old buildings, the ruins, the Zócalo, Alameda Central, Palacio de Bellas Artes, Museo Nacional de Arte (MUNAL), the markets and the streets where centuries of history exist on top of each other.
And then there is Coyoacán, Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, colorful markets, museums, and streets that feel completely different from the rest of the city.
The most interesting part is not just that these neighborhoods look different. They also make you feel different. You become a different version of yourself depending on where you are in the city. And in your 20s, that gives you something I have learned to appreciate: perspective.
Experiencing Mexican art and architecture
I’ve visited many museums since arriving — some of the famous ones and others that are less known. I don’t want to pretend I can explain Mexican art after a year here. But I can say that I have never experienced history through public art in quite the same way. The murals of Diego Rivera are not simply beautiful paintings. They tell stories about Mexico, its people and its history. Artists like Frida Kahlo transformed personal pain into art and became part of a cultural identity recognized around the world. I was also so impressed by Luis Barragán. Have you seen his house in San Miguel de Chapultepec? It was designed in the late 1940s, and I swear if you discover it today, you’ll want to move in there. Mexico City reminds me that contemporary doesn’t always mean new.
The same happened with food. Unpopular opinion: I’m not a foodie. I enjoy a latte and a cookie as much as avocado toast or a good meal at a cool restaurant every once in a while. Just give me some food when I’m hungry, and I’ll be happy. But even I have been fascinated by Mexican food. Mexican cuisine was recognized as an Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO in 2010, and one of the things I’ve learned is that there is no single thing called “Mexican food.” Ingredients, dishes and traditions change so much from state to state.
Even as a vegetarian, I have found myself trying things I never expected to eat: nopal, huitlacoche and many other ingredients I did not know of before arriving.
And Mexico City is not only Mexican food. You can eat Thai, Italian, Spanish, Chinese … you name it, you’ll find it. I even discovered one of my favorite Lebanese places here in the Historic Center.
Lessons in community through Día de los Muertos
Experiencing Día de los Muertos in Mexico can change the way you look at death … and at life. (Miguel González/Unsplash)
I moved to Mexico City about a year ago, just as the rainy season was ending and Independence Day celebrations were beginning. I was warned before arriving that people knew how to celebrate. “But isn’t that true everywhere?” I thought. Especially coming from Spain, where we’re always down to party. But I understood quickly that celebration here can mean something bigger than drinking late into the night. There is a sense of community, belonging and gathering together.
To this day, experiencing Día de los Muertos in Mexico has been one of the best experiences of my life. We went to the village of Malinalco, less than two hours from Mexico City, to visit family altars. We entered house after house, each one belonging to families that had lost someone that year. Every house was different. Some had large patios and modern buildings; others were old. In all of them, they replicated the profession of the person who had died through objects, decorations and food: a baker, a secretary, a police officer, a chef. The altars were filled with bright orange cempasúchil flowers and candles.
In some of them, we lit our own candles as a sign of respect. Every family gave us something to eat and drink — from tamales and tacos to mezcal, tequila or warm spiced wine. In some of them, you could really feel the presence of the person being remembered. How generous of those families, after losing their loved ones, to celebrate their lives with us, strangers to them. It was so magical. I left with tears in my eyes from the lesson in humanity I had just experienced.
Building a life together while making it your own
I’m not single, and my boyfriend and I moved here together. Some people might think moving with your partner in your 20s means you miss out on the experience. That hasn’t been our case. If anything, moving here has made us more intentional about building a life, both individually and as a couple.
Marta Delgado is a Spanish writer and marketing professional from Galicia, Spain, currently based in Mexico City. She writes about culture, lifestyle, and what it means to build a life abroad, drawing from her own time living in different countries.
To address the inequality of access to fine dining in Mexico City, local restaurateurs introduced an innovative "Pay What You Can" model. (Masala y Maíz)
Food is, in many ways, the greatest of social equalizers. Everyone, after all, must sit down to eat at various points in the day, and there’s no escaping the fact that we must all break bread together.
But too often, there’s an exclusivity around who gets to actually sit at the proverbial table. In a bustling metropolis like Mexico City, in particular, many residents are gatekept and unable to enjoy the city’s most sought-after offerings, largely due to massive socioeconomic barriers.
Wealth disparities shape capital dining
The gap between “haves” and “have-nots” in Mexico City is widening, but world-class dining was available to everyone on at least one night, with more than 20 restaurants participating in a “Pay What You Can” initiative on Aug. 26. (Masala y Maíz)
The gap between those who can, or can’t, access Mexico City’s jeweled offerings is wider than ever. A 2026 report from Oxfam Mexico revealed just how disparate Mexico has become as a nation, with 1% of the population hoarding 40% of the country’s wealth.
The divide is glaringly obvious in high-end neighborhoods like Mexico City’s Santa Fe. Oscar Lopez of The Guardian wrote about how “unbelievably unequal” certain areas of Mexico City actually are: “The stark contrast in this little enclave of the capital is a microcosm of a problem that has plagued Mexico for decades: rampant income inequality, with a small slice of the population living in opulence while millions of families languish in poverty.”
The irony, of course, is that the essential workers who sustain the infrastructure for opulent lifestyles in Mexico rarely — if ever — get invited to partake in it. That trickles down to something like booking a table at a popular restaurant in CDMX, which only a select few get to enjoy.
Taking that reality into account, Norma Listman and Saqib Keval — the married chef-owners of Masala y Maíz, a prominent Michelin-starred eatery in Mexico City’s historic center that serves a blend of Mexican, Indian and East African dishes — have made efforts to raise awareness around such issues in the food industry, including workers’ rights and dining accessibility for all.
This summer, they initiated a “Paga Lo Que Puedas” or “Pay What You Can” (PWYC) day, effectively opening their doors to every diner, regardless of their tax bracket or bank account. A powerful and unprecedented gesture, it triggered a wave of support among participating restaurants who joined the cause throughout Mexico, and beyond, to galvanize a movement centered on humane hospitality.
“As the city becomes more expensive and more oriented toward tourism and higher-income visitors, there are people who have lived here and built these communities who are increasingly unable to participate in the spaces around them. For us, that contradiction is important,” Listman and Keval told Mexico News Daily. “Restaurants are part of neighborhoods and communities, but they can also become spaces that feel increasingly inaccessible to the people who live there.”
The couple went on to say, “Dining out has become a privilege for many people, and as it becomes more expensive, it can become more segregated by class. That goes against how we understand hospitality and why we entered this industry in the first place. ‘Paga Lo Que Puedas’ was one small way of responding to that reality.”
In Mexico City, more than 20 restaurants — including MUX, Sin Nombre, Baldío, Cicatriz and Fideo Gordo — declared their commitment to “Paga Lo Que Puedas,” which took place Aug. 26. More than 100 dining institutions across 14 countries also joined in.
The “Pay What You Can” model has opened the doors of some of Mexico City’s finest restaurants to a new and appreciative audience. (Masala y Maíz)
So how did it fare? Masala y Maíz, along with 12 participating restaurants, shared their experiences with us.
The origins, challenges and joys of a novel model
The concept originally emerged years ago, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, when Listman and Keval — who initially opened their restaurant as a small brick-and-mortar in San Miguel Chapultepec back in 2017 — were experimenting with ways to attract customers during a challenging time for food businesses to keep their staff employed and to provide the luxury of dining out in their community.
That evolved into a regular practice, in which diners would enjoy a meal and leave whatever they could afford inside an envelope. What began as an in-house tradition ballooned into a bigger idea that would, years later, result in a global effort.
“From the beginning, we were thinking about how we could make the restaurant more accessible while also creating a tangible way to support the people around us and keep our staff working,” they noted. “It started as a small gesture, but it was also an experiment in trust: What happens when we remove the fixed price from the menu and ask people to honestly decide what they are able to pay for their meal? In Mexico City, that question felt particularly relevant because we were already seeing how quickly the cost of living was changing around us.”
Social media deepens urban segregation
In the fall of 2026, those factors had only become more urgent. In analyzing the stratification of diners in Mexico City through the increased use of social media, Guillermo Echauri of the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) found that the role and perception of food influencers in Mexico City have only exacerbated the problem of inaccessibility.
He writes that “the attributes, perspectives, and personal experiences of the foodies themselves are integrated into an environment of significant socioeconomic disparities, urban segregation, and ethnic discrimination. This shapes their representation of the culinary landscape in the Mexican capital, as digital dynamics intensify existing inequality.”
In other words, the systemic issues around dining accessibility that Listman and Keval were attuned to nearly a decade ago haven’t disappeared — they’ve arguably worsened with the rise of food influencers and rampant social media usage, among other shifts in the community and global economy at large.
By reviving the PWYC initiative in Mexico City, the founders of Masala y Maíz — and the many restaurateurs who chose to join them — are emphasizing the ongoing need for inclusivity and egalitarianism through local and international gastronomy.
Measuring turnout and financial realities
Despite logistical complications that arose through staffing and clarity around how to accept payments in a PWYC framework (in which some diners paid with non-monetary goods, such as original artwork), a survey of 12 participating restaurants unanimously confirmed a “very positive” experience and that the day “opened doors to new audiences,” with 83% of the restaurants declaring they would “definitely” participate again.
Restaurants saw an uptick in volume, but not necessarily in profits during the “Pay What You Can” experiment. (Masala y Maíz)
“The response we experienced was largely one of curiosity and solidarity,” Listman and Keval affirmed. “Other chefs and restaurant owners were also thinking about accessibility, rising costs, and what it means to be a restaurant within a community. We did not approach this as a model that every restaurant should adopt. Restaurants have different circumstances and different economic realities, and sustainability for the restaurant and for its workers is important. What we wanted to do was create an invitation to think differently about what hospitality can look like.”
In terms of profitable sales, the results were mixed — although that’s to be expected when the public is invited to pay whatever they wish.
Forty-two percent of the surveyed restaurants reported a “better” day of sales; a combined 33% reported either “much worse” or “about the same.” Conversely, 75% of the food businesses shared that they saw a “much higher” or “higher” turnout than an average day, while 25% believe they saw “about the same” number of diners that they would have during normal hours. In all, it seems that the restaurants saw a boom in diners, but not necessarily in income (in an act of reciprocal care, tips reportedly went up by 42%).
Building connection beyond the dining table
Importantly, 58% of the diners self-identified as first-timers at the surveyed restaurants, indicating demand and engagement from a wider range of customers than usual, and affirming the PWYC blueprint as socially equitable.
“What has stayed with us most is the sense of connection that the initiative created. For us, the success of Paga Lo Que Puedas is not simply measured by how many meals were served or how much money was collected. It is also about what happens when people feel that a restaurant is making room for them,” Listman and Keval said. “We hope that diners experience a sense of belonging and joy, and that they are able to enjoy a meal without the usual anxiety around whether they can afford to be in that space. We also hope the experience encourages people to think about the labor, care and knowledge that goes into a meal, and to recognize the workers who make that experience possible.”
Nourishing a better city
In a city as increasingly divided as Mexico City has become in the past half-decade alone — due to gentrification, mass tourism and other sociopolitical factors — PWYC is a bold, if not necessary, kind of reclamation for the people. However, that responsibility shouldn’t fall solely on small-business owners and their staff to level the playing field (or dining tables, in this case); that work should ultimately be the focus of elected officials and local governments, who should be looking for ways to support not only diners, but those who provide the city’s best dining experiences.
Without them, what would be left to nourish and feed us when we want a transcendent meal or simply a night out? Keeping local culinary arts scenes alive — and attainable for diverse residents — should be every world-class city’s priority. No matter the price.
Alan Chazaro is the author of “These Spaceships Weren’t Built For Us” (Tia Chucha Press, 2026), “Notes from the Eastern Span of the Bay Bridge” (Ghost City Press, 2021), “Piñata Theory” (Black Lawrence Press, 2020), and “This Is Not a Frank Ocean Cover Album” (Black Lawrence Press, 2019). He is a graduate of June Jordan’s Poetry for the People program at UC Berkeley and was selected as a Lawrence Ferlinghetti Poetry Fellow at the University of San Francisco. His work can be found in NPR, The Guardian, SLAM, GQ, L.A. Times, and more. He is currently based in Veracruz.
President Sheinbaum's friendly visit with Nuevo León's Gov. Samuel García, a member of the opposition Citizens' Movement party, is one recent example of civility in Mexican politics, Travis Bemebenek writes. (Samuel García / X)
I am currently spending a few days visiting family and friends in the U.S. and, being a month away from the midterms, have had the opportunity to experience firsthand the run-up to the elections in multiple states. As is always the case now, the TV ads and political speeches of the candidates are increasingly over the top.
Do I choose the candidate who wants to turn the U.S. into a communist country? Or the one who wants to further enable a dictatorship? Do I prefer the candidate who wants to put a data center in my backyard? Or the one who wants to increase my energy costs and threaten my water supply with a data center that’s not in my backyard? It’s all so silly, so anxiety-producing, so insulting to our intelligence. In Mexico, where paid political ads on radio and TV are prohibited, it’s refreshing to not be subjected to this every two years.
Mexican politics, of course, are far from perfect, but there have been some examples of real civility demonstrated lately that give many of us some hope and inspiration. And that civility comes from the tone being set from the top by President Sheinbaum. Let me explain.
The word I most often hear to describe President Sheinbaum is “classy.” The way she dresses, the way she smiles, the way she carries herself, and the way she interacts with people are all frequently mentioned. Even those who don’t agree with all of her policies are impressed by that aspect of her.
Being an American, I have found the contrast to my native country and the increasing lack of class in politics in the United States to be maddening. I can understand genuine differences of opinion on important issues and on the general direction of the country, but I cannot get past the lack of class being exhibited by politicians that we see on a daily basis. The name-calling, the put-downs and the unwillingness to acknowledge anything positive from the other side is really depressing to watch. And it’s on both sides of the political aisle. I know I am not alone in often thinking, “We pay these people to represent us, find compromise, and make decisions — why can’t they seem to actually do it anymore?”
Which brings me back to Sheinbaum. There have been three incidents in just these past few weeks that were impressive examples of civility.
1. The U.S. administration has been back at it again, attacking Mexico for supposedly not doing enough to combat the cartels. This is despite nearly daily progress on high-profile arrests, drug and weapons seizures, and a significant reduction in homicides throughout the country. Marco Rubio, the U.S. Secretary of State, again hinted that the U.S. could act unilaterally against criminal organizations in Mexico. President Trump, acknowledging progress but not wanting to be outdone, added: “However, Mexico must take additional action against the narco terrorist organizations that dominate vast areas of its territory and continue to threaten the American people,” and arrest “the many corrupt public officials” who have colluded with them.
Sheinbaum responded calmly, saying that Mexico doesn’t need to be judged “from the outside.” She went on to say that she would like to see “a report about what the U.S. government is doing in the United States” to reduce drug use and combat drug trafficking. She asked, “Where is the effort being made to stop drug cartels and distributors in the United States? What’s going on with money laundering in the United States?” Fair questions of a government that has no problem frequently questioning her and her administration.
2. Sheinbaum recently completed her second year in office and as a result, just gave her second annual “state of the union” address. She then did something similar to last year, traveling to each of Mexico’s 32 states over a period of several weeks to personally give a “state of the state” address in which she presented, in detail, what the government has accomplished for the people of the state in the past year and what is planned for the following years.
Regardless of which political party is leading the state she visited, or which candidate they voted for, she showed up and presented a business-like progress report for the state. There was no avoiding the states that didn’t vote for her. There was no minimizing the progress in states that don’t support her. But rather a consistent, fact-based, optimistic outlook on what the government is doing to improve things in the state. It’s inspiring to watch, and impressive to see her making the effort to visit every state and make the individual presentations.
3. Sheinbaum’s visits to two states in particular, Jalisco and Nuevo León, most caught my attention. These states have the second and third largest cities in the country after Mexico City, and neither state has a governor of the Morena political party that Sheinbaum is part of. It didn’t matter; Sheinbaum showed up in both states, was warmly greeted by the governors, and spoke about the progress that the federal and state governments have made working together. This was not a post-natural disaster photo op. This was a real effort to present a progress report to the people of these states and present a united front of government.
The governor of Jalisco greeted Sheinbaum along with famous singer Vicente Fernández’s wife (Doña Cuquita). In Nuevo León, she was greeted by Governor Samuel García, his wife and their two daughters. The images of Sheinbaum kissing their youngest daughter with a beaming Governor García looking on would touch even the biggest cynic of politicians.
Sheinbaum spent time with Gov. Samuel García and his family in Nuevo León in early September, as part of a tour to visit all 32 states. (Samuel García / X)
What we are seeing lately in Mexico is a welcome reminder that politics doesn’t have to be so classless, so off-putting, so negative, so nasty. It hasn’t always been this way in the U.S. — I’m not sure how it got this bad.
I’m not saying things are perfect in Mexico. They are far from it. But seeing politicians of different political parties together, seemingly genuinely acting like polite, kind, classy people is quite inspiring and uplifting. Perhaps that is why a recent poll just put the level of national pride of Mexicans at 90%, a record high.
Let’s hope it continues for the good of the country!
Travis Bembenek is the CEO ofMexico News Daily and has been living, working or playing in Mexico for nearly 30 years.
Baja California Sur is the fastest-growing state in Mexico according to new data, despite a fertility rate of just 1.2. Pictured: La Paz, Baja California Sur. (Shutterstock)
The 2025 Intercensal Survey by the National Institute of Statistics and Geography (INEGI) has revealed a paradox in Mexico’s new demographic map: The states that have seen the greatest population growth are not those with the highest fertility rates.
Mexico reached a population of 130.9 million in 2025 – the country’s highest population in history. However, the population grew at an average annual rate of just 0.7%, its slowest pace in recent decades, with growth concentrated in states in the north and southeast of the country.
Which states lead population growth?
According to INEGI, Baja California Sur led in population growth with an average annual rate of 3.4%, followed by Quintana Roo at 2.2%. Querétaro recorded 1.7%, while Nuevo León and Coahuila grew by 1.5% annually.
Population growth in Quintana Roo is a result of its population dynamics: For years, the state has recorded growth linked to an influx of people from other states and the expansion of its urban and tourist areas, among other factors.
The same pattern is observed in Baja California Sur. Meanwhile Baja California, Querétaro and Nuevo León are attracting new residents thanks to urbanization, employment and internal migration.
In contrast, Guerrero and Veracruz lost population, shrinking by -0.6% and -0.3%, respectively.
Which states have the highest and lowest fertility rate?
The states topping the growth rankings are not the same ones showing the highest fertility rates. The Intercensal Survey revealed that Chiapas had the highest fertility rate at 1.8 children per woman, followed by Guerrero (1.6) and Durango (1.5).
The contrast is particularly striking in Baja California Sur and Quintana Roo. Despite ranking at the top for population growth between 2020 and 2025, their fertility rates were among the lowest in the country — 1.2 and 1.1 children per woman, respectively.
Mexico City has the second largest population of any entity or state, despite having the lowest fertility rate (0.8). According to the survey, its population stands at 9.1 million, just behind México state, which with 17.5 million inhabitants is the most populous state in the country.
The Usobiaga brothers have created a food network of chinampa farmers and their own farms to provide restaurants with ingredients that are grown locally and sustainably and to promote a no-waste strategy for food preparation. (Arca Tierra / Instagram)
Arca Tierra, a Mexican sustainable agriculture initiative founded by brothers Lucio and Pablo Usobiaga, has won the Champions of Change Award 2026 by The World’s 50 Best Restaurants in Latin America.
The award honors their work to restore the chinampas of Xochimilco — an agricultural system set on man-made islands, used by the Mexica people in pre-Hispanic times. They are raised plots anchored to the lakebed, created from mud, organic matter and vegetation.
Today they are known as a Mexico City tourist attraction due to the boat rides aboard traditional trajineras. But the Xochimilco chinampas remain part of the capital’s productive and cultural landscape
They face, however, challenges, such as environmental degradation, urban expansion, and declining profitability for those who work the land.
Arca Tierra seeks to improve their condition to create a food supply chain that is fairer, local and regenerative. Their project seeks to produce high-quality food with a lower environmental impact, preserve traditional farming knowledge, and expand access to local products for restaurants, consumers and communities in Mexico City.
“This recognition confirms that we are on the right track and inspires us to continue working hard with the farmers and producers that collaborate with us,” Lucio said in a statement.
In the capital, Arca Tierra produces around five tonnes of food per hectare per month. Its harvests supply 47 restaurants in Mexico City and reach more than 300 families through weekly baskets.
The initiative has also developed culinary and rural tourism offerings designed to connect chefs, diners, and visitors with the origins of their food. Its projects include Baldío— a Mexico City restaurant created in collaboration with British chef Douglas McMaster — which focuses on comprehensive use of ingredients and on waste reduction. For example, vegetable peels are fermented to make a traditional beverage called tepache, or repurposed into a syrup that is then diluted and fermented before being incorporated into other dishes.
Ultimately, Arca Tierra seeks to turn the spotlight to a process often overlooked by diners — the production and sourcing of local ingredients.
“In the value chain, the person who produces the food earns the least money — it’s a total contradiction because they’re the most important of all,” Pablo said.
With the mission to bring quality produce to more people, Arca Tierra has expanded its vision beyond Xochimilco and it now operates in Huasca de Ocampo, Hidalgo, and Amanalco de Becerra and Polvillos, in México state.
