Mexico's Interior Minister Rosa Icela Rodríguez meeting Pope Leo XIV on Sunday. (Rosa Icela Rodríguez/X)
On Sunday, following his inaugural Mass at St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican, Mexico’s Interior Minister, Rosa Icela Rodríguez, invited Pope Leo XIV to visit Mexico on behalf of President Claudia Sheinbaum.
The Mass saw the attendance of heads of state from around the world, as well as official delegations from numerous countries.
“From St. Peter’s Basilica, Pope Leo XIV sent greetings to President Claudia Sheinbaum and the people of Mexico,” Rodríguez wrote on her official X account, along with a video that shows her greeting the pope and gifting him an image of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Sheinbaum had announced her intention to invite the pope to Mexico ahead of Rodríguez’s trip to the Vatican.
“The Interior Minister will go [to the Vatican], where we will deliver a letter to the Vatican. If she can see him [the pope] in person, that’s perfect. If not, a letter will still be delivered inviting him to come to Mexico on a date he deems appropriate,” Sheinbaum said on May 12.
Speaking from the Vatican, Rodríguez highlighted the similarities in attitudes “towards the poor” of the new pope and Mexico’s current administration. She recognized Pope Leo XIV’s social work, his commitment to supporting migrants and his closeness to the Indigenous peoples of Latin America.
El Papa recibe una imagen de la Virgen de Guadalupe
Rodríguez also celebrated the bond between Pope Leo XIV and Pope Francis. She predicted “there will be continuity in the message of unity in favor of the marginalized, migrants and those who most need support in the world,” Rodríguez said. “Leo XIV will also be a pope who will become a friend of the people of Mexico.”
Cardinal Robert Prevost, from the United States, was elected pope under the name of Leo XIV on May 8. Two Mexican cardinals participated in the conclave that elected the new Pope: the Archbishop of Guadalajara, Francisco Robles, and the Archbishop Primate of Mexico, Carlos Aguiar.
Mexico has the second-largest Catholic community in the world, with roughly 111 million Catholics. According to a recent survey by the newspaper El Financiero, 69% of Catholics in Mexico have a positive opinion of Pope Leo XIV.
Quick, easy and oh-so-delicious, this dump cake a la Mexicana offers a taste of paradise in every bite. (I Love Poke Bar)
Dump cakes of all varieties are the most popular dessert in the U.S. because of their simplicity and ease in making, not discounting how good they are. All you do is grab a box of cake mix and some pie filling and you’re good to go!
The one thing I’ve learned on my baking journey is that it’s just as easy to do it from scratch (almost), as it is to grab some pre-packaged mix loaded with preservatives and artificial flavors and colors, as it is do it with wholesome and fresh ingredients — and it’s so much more satisfying, flavorful and healthy.
Fresh lemon curd is a great way to add a (Mexican) citrus zing to your cake. (Animalia)
The dump cake I’m featuring is lemon-lime, made from scratch, with a homemade lemon-lime curd. If you have never had lemon curd before, you need to try it! It’s perfect to put on toast, or to use as a pie or cookie filling or as a topping for cheesecake — and it’s delicious! It’s also easy to make, takes about 30 minutes, and only has five ingredients. I’ve made it Mexican by adding lime, the key lime variety that Mexico is so famous for!
These recipes are simple to make and are scrumptious. This lemon-lime dump cake has three layers: cake, lemon-lime, and cream cheese. These are topped by cinnamon and pecans (or walnuts), and before serving, are sprinkled with a little additional lime and lemon zest for color, making it all the more Mexican!
It’s important to note that in Mexico, Philadelphia cream cheese is different from that purchased in the U.S. or Canada. To make it similar, in texture and taste, you need to let it come to room temperature and for every 200 grams (about 7 oz.) of Mexican Philly, you need to add 1 to 1.5 tablespoons milk or cream (or a little more) and beat until smooth; it’s a matter of taste and preference.
I hope you love this Mexican lemon-lime dump, made from scratch with a homemade lemon-lime curd.
Disfruta!
Mexican lemon-lime dump cake
*Recipe adapted from 30seconds.com. (Fab Every Day)
Lemon Curd:
Make a day ahead of the cake. Makes about 3 cups.
Ingredients:
3/4 cup fresh lemon juice (limón)
3/4 cup fresh key-lime juice (limón criollo)
2 1/4 cups granulated sugar (azúcar estándar)
6 large eggs (huevos)
24 tbs. (3 sticks) unsalted butter, cut into pieces (mantequilla sin sal)
Instructions:
In a medium saucepan, mix the fresh lemon and lime juices together.
Add the sugar and eggs to the juices and whisk until well blended.
Cook over medium-low heat and then add butter pieces.
Cook, whisking constantly, until the mixture thickens and coats the back of a spoon (about 5–8 minutes). Do not let it boil.
Remove from heat.
Optional: Strain through a fine stainer for extra smoothness.
Let cool, and store in the refrigerator in an airtight container.
Dump cake
Ingredients:
Lemon-lime layer
3 Cups homemade lemon-lime curd.
Zest of 1 key lime (limón criollo)
1 (14-ounce) can sweetened condensed milk (leche condensada)
Cake layer:
2 Cups all-purpose flour
Mexican brands closest to American all-purpose: Espuma de Chapala; Selecta All-Purpose Flour
1 1/2 Cups granulated sugar (azúcar estándar)
1 TBS. baking powder (polvo de hornear)
1/2 tsp. salt (sal)
Zest of 1 lemon (limón)
1/2 Cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, melted (mantequilla sin sal)
3 large eggs (huevos)
1/2 Cup whole milk (leche entera)
1 tsp. vanilla extract((extracto de vainilla)
Mexican brands noted for their intense flavor: Villa Vainilla; Vainilla Totonac’s; Molina Vainilla
Cream cheese layer:
8 ounces (225 g) cream cheese (queso crema)
If using Mexican Philly, you can add 1.5 to 2 TBS. of cream or milk to 225g of cream cheese to achieve the same texture and taste as U.S. Philly cream cheese.
Topping:
1/2 Cup chopped pecans (or walnuts) (nuez pecana o nuez de nogal)
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon (canela molida)
Additional lime and lemon zest for garnish
Instructions:
Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C).
Grease a 9 x 13-inch baking dish.
Prepare lemon layer:
In a bowl, combine lemon-lime curd, lime zest, and sweetened condensed milk.
Spread evenly on the bottom of prepared baking dish.
Prepare cake layer:
In a large bowl whisk together flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and lemon zest.
In another bowl whisk together melted butter, eggs, milk, and vanilla extract.
Add wet ingredients to dry and mix until just combined (do not overmix).
Spread the cake batter evenly over the lemon layer.
Add cream cheese and topping
Evenly distribute dollops of cream-cheese over the cake batter.
Sprinkle chopped pecans (or walnuts) and cinnamon over the top.
Next:
Bake for 40–50 minutes, or until the top is golden and a toothpick inserted in the cake layer comes out clean.
Let cool for at least 15 minutes.
Garnish with extra lime and lemon zest before serving.
Serve with a side of whipped cream, if desired!
Disfruta!
Deborah McCoy is the one-time author of mainstream, bridal-reference books who has turned her attention to food, particularly sweets, desserts and fruits. She is the founder of CakeChatter™ on FaceBook and X (Twitter), and the author of four baking books for “Dough Punchers” via CakeChatter (available @amazon.com). She is also the president of The American Academy of Wedding Professionals™ (aa-wp.com).
Guanajuato ceramics artisan Nicanora Valdez is the third generation of her family to make pottery by hand, but she'll almost certainly be the last family member to carry on the tradition. (Karla Parra)
Just past the brickmaking town of Pantoja, Guanajuato, where bricks are shaped by hand and fired up in rustic kilns to supply construction across the Bajío region, lives Nicanora Valdez, the last potter in her family.
I arrive unannounced, eager to meet this woman in her seventies who creates ceramic bowls entirely by hand, keeping alive a tradition passed from her grandfather to her father and now solely rests with her.
Ceramics artisan Nicanora Valdez poses with one of her bowls in her workshop near San Miguel de Allende. (Karla Parra)
This is the second installment of Hecho en México, a series that celebrates the humans behind Mexico’s vibrant creative landscape. From weavers and painters to potters like Valdez, we explore the traditions, challenges and triumphs that drive potters like her and the rest of the nation’s artisans — weavers, painters, silversmiths and more — to share their talent while preserving Mexico’s rich artistic heritage.
On a sunny Sunday afternoon, I ride with my friends, Mary and Joe Molinaro, the latter a ceramics artist, to visit Valdez, who lives on a modest ranch with red-brick structures sprinkled among the pines and cacti.
Since Valdez doesn’t have a cell phone, Mary and Joe call out to her when we arrive. She soon appears from behind her workshop, a space her grandfather built — where he and Valdez’s father also shaped ceramic bowls by hand.
Her eyes light up when she sees the Molinaros; they’ve brought carnitas and fresh clay, part of their weekend ritual to support her craft. I introduce myself in Spanish, and, with a timid smile, Valdez invites me inside her workshop to share her story.
“My father used to hand us a little ball of lodo [mud] and say, ‘Get to work,’” she recalls, her voice soft. “That’s how we started when we were kids.”
It was her father, Esteban Valdez, a master potter, who taught Nicanora to mold clay as a child. Having learned from his father, Toribio, Esteban would gather clay from a nearby riverbed and transform it into simple bowls painted with animals, plants and Mexican historic figures like El Pípila.
Esteban wasn’t alone in his workshop. His wife Viviana, Nicanora’s mother, was his partner in life and craft. She helped with tasks like preparing the clay and packaging bowls for sale.
The late Esteban Valdez, who was Nicanora’s father, poses with one of his bowls in 2010. (Study Away Programs in San Miguel de Allende/Facebook)
At first, the bowls were only sold locally, in markets and town fairs in the municipalities of Comonfort and San Miguel de Allende. But over time, Esteban’s pieces gained widespread recognition, finding their way into private collections and galleries, including the Museo Indígena in Mexico City.
Though Esteban had hoped that more of his nine children would learn his skill, only Nicanora showed interest. She learned to shape bowls and often joined her parents on pottery-selling trips. When one of Esteban’s pieces was inducted into a museum in the city of Guanajuato, Nicanora was there to witness the moment.
“It felt so special to see both my parents recognized,” she says with a tone of nostalgia. “By then, my mom was already sick, and just seeing them get called up to receive the diploma… I think I almost cried.”
Not long after that ceremony, Valdez lost both of her parents, first her mother, then her father, who was in his mid-’80s. The grief that followed was profound, and in that quiet, she stepped away from her family’s pottery legacy.
It would be five years before Valdez would touch clay again.
A serendipitous meeting
In 2024, a stranger knocked on Valdez’s door, looking for her father.
“The man said he’d seen a piece my father made and wanted to meet him,” she says, recounting how she returned to make pottery. “But I had to tell him, ‘That’s not possible. My father passed away years ago.’”
Disappointed, the man asked if she had any of her father’s work left — she didn’t — and if she worked with clay herself. She explained that it had been years since she had last made anything and that she no longer had access to the kind of fine, clean dirt her father had once used to make clay for his pottery, dirt she described as “como harina,” or like flour.
The man offered to introduce her to Joe Molinaro, a U.S. ceramic artist living in San Miguel de Allende.
Joe Molinaro, center, visits Valdez monthly to bring her higher-quality clay than she can obtain for her pottery. Here, he poses with Valdez, right, and her sister, who lives nearby. (Karla Parra)
“That’s how it all started,” Valdez says, her eyes crinkling into a smile. “One day, the man’s friend showed up at my house with good clay, and now he and his wife… We’ve become good friends.”
She glances toward the workshop’s outside yard, where the Molinaros stroll through her garden, chatting with Valdez’s sister, who has stopped by to say hello.
“Sometimes Joe jokingly says his wife is ‘mucho problema para mi’, and I give Mary a stone to hit him,” she says with a chuckle. “Then we all laugh.”
From clay to finished bowl
A few weeks after my initial meeting with Valdez, I return with Joe and Mary, who bring her pigments for painting and more clay, so she can show me how she makes her bowls. This time, Valdez recognizes and warmly invites me into her pottery workshop, where she immediately gets to work.
First, she begins with a small ball of clay, much like the ones her father handed her when she was little. She warms the ball in her hands and rolls it out on a large stone in her workshop, the same one her father — and before him, her grandfather — used.
In an intimate corner of her home, a photo and a small shrine keep alive the memory of Valdez’s parents, who worked together in the family pottery business. (Karla Parra)
Next, once the clay is flat, she drapes it over a bowl-shaped mold, carefully cutting any excess with a fine thread. She does it with an expert’s steady focus, holding one end of the thread between her teeth, a technique passed down from her father — except that her father used the hair of a donkey’s tail.
Once the bowl is trimmed, she uses a second small, flatter ball of clay to smooth the surfaces of the formed bowl, ensuring every curve is just right. Then, she lays it out to dry, first inside her workshop and then under the sun.
Valdez can create about 20 bowls like this over two days. Once they’re dried, she paints them with the pigments Molinaro brings, decorating with similar motifs to her father’s works: representations of animals, plants and everyday Mexican life, such as a man selling paletas (popsicles). She signs each piece with her initials: N.V.
“Así se lo ponía mi papá,” she says proudly, explaining that her father also would mark his bowls by painting his initials.
Since Valdez doesn’t own a kiln to fire her ceramics, Joe takes the greenware — clay objects not yet fired up — to his workshop at home. There, he bisque-fires them and applies a clear glaze, giving the pottery a durable, glossy finish.
Nicanora’s greenware as it dries and after the glazing process is complete. (Karla Parra and Joe Molinaro)
Art, aging and everyday life
Valdez keeps her father’s legacy alive one bowl at a time, with the help of Joe, who sells her finished pieces online without taking a cent in commission. The modest income from her pottery is spent on essentials, like beans and the corn she uses to make fresh tortillas.
More than just meeting her daily needs, the income has given her something meaningful: a newfound independence, after years of relying on her family, before she made pottery.
Life on the ranch is simple. When she’s not working with clay, Valdez enjoys sewing napkins, tending to her flowers and walking around the land that’s been in her family for generations. She never married and doesn’t have children, so she knows her family’s artistic tradition will likely end with her.
As the years go by, her body aches more. Sitting for hours at a time in her workshop is getting harder. Yet, every time she completes a new batch of bowls for Joe to sell on her behalf, Valdez feels something deeper within her that transcends tiredness.
“It feels like pride — true pride — when I can say, ‘I’m done, it’s ready,” she says of each of her bowls. “It feels good to see something made from the earth and take it to the point where it will now be used in someone’s kitchen.”
On the way back to San Miguel, as we drive again past the kilns firing up thousands of construction bricks in Pantoja, I feel a quiet hope: that many will discover Nicanora’s pottery online and help preserve her story, just like those who have honored and upheld her father’s art and story before her.
Thank you to Mary and Joe Molinaro, who were instrumental in introducing me to Nicanora and generously sharing their time and knowledge. If you’d like to preserve Nicanora’s history and that of her family’s, you can purchase one of her bowls by contacting Joe directly via e-mail at jmolinaro2009@gmail.com. You can also learn more about Nicanora on the Facebook page he’s created about her work.
Hecho en México is a series written by Karla Parra, a Mexican-American writer born and raised in Mexico. While working on her memoir, Karla writes on Substack about home, creativity, and identity. She also works with the team behind the annual San Miguel Writers’ Conference. You can find her on Instagram @karlaexploradora.
Corn has been cultivated in Mexico for a long time, but the Mokaya, or “Corn People,” pioneered the transition from hunter-gatherer to agricultural settlements. (Canva)
Although the Mokaya are known as the “Corn People” — a sobriquet that is a literal translation of what Mokaya means in an early form of Mixe-Zoquean language — these early Mesoamerican inhabitants from the Soconusco region of Chiapas weren’t the first to domesticate maize. However, they are credited with many other firsts. They were the first documented agricultural society in Mesoamerica, the first status-oriented rank society, the first people to make chocolate and ceramics and they built the first known Mesoamerican ballcourt.
If this sounds very much like the Olmecs, the so-called “mother culture of Mesoamerica,” it should be noted that archaeologists John E. Clark and Michael Blake published the first important study of the Mokaya (“El origen de la civilizacíon en Mesoamérica: Los olmecas y mokaya del Soconusco de Chiapas, México”) as recently as 1989. Thus, it took some people a while to realize that the Mokaya were not Olmecs, nor did they develop contemporaneously. The Mokaya predated them by several centuries.
The geography of ancient Mesoamerica, including Soconusco, where the earliest Mokaya settlements were located. (Richard G. Lesure)
However, the Mokaya people, creators of the first sedentary culture in Mesoamerica, were an important influence on both the Olmecs and the later Maya.
The first sedentary agricultural society in Mexico
Today, the area the Mokaya occupied in Soconusco is mostly farmland, which is appropriate since they were the first known sedentary people in Mexico and, for that matter, in Mesoamerica. The latter is an important distinction, since in this era before national borders, their lands extended from coastal Chiapas into Guatemala.
From 1900 B.C., the Mokaya, notably at their Paso de la Amada settlement, formed the foundation of agriculture in Mesoamerica. Although other peoples, like the Chantuto, preceded them in Soconusco, they were nomadic hunter-gatherers. The Mokaya, by contrast, took advantage of Soconusco’s fertile volcanic soils to plant maize, cassava and beans and cultivated avocado and Theobroma cacao (the main ingredient of ancient chocolate).
What made them take up agriculture before anyone else in Mesoamerica? We don’t know for sure that they were indeed the first, but no evidence exists for earlier groups having done so. Recent studies on this transition globally have shown that strong governance helped to pave the way for agriculture by regulating land use. Notably, this was also an area in which the Mokaya were pioneers.
The first complex rank society
The Mokaya were the first sedentary society in Mesoamerica and, perhaps not coincidentally, the first for which there were clear indications of rank and status. This is evident from their hierarchical settlements, which had the largest central houses reserved for their chiefs, who fulfilled shamanic duties and set up long-distance trade networks to acquire luxury goods, over which they exercised tight control. Obsidian, mica and iron pyrite were all highly sought-after trade items.
Chocolate was the ultimate luxury good. Cultivated by the Mokaya — and not obtained via trade — its consumption was restricted to elites. In this, the Mokaya set a template that would be followed by Indigenous groups in Mexico up to the time of the Mexica.
A Mexica sculpture carrying a cacao pod. Cacao and chocolate were both used medicinally by ancient Indigenous cultures in Mexico. (Wikimedia Commons)
The inventors of chocolate
If you’re among the millions worldwide who now enjoy chocolate’s delicious flavor and mood-enhancing benefits, you owe a debt of gratitude to the Mokaya. They invented it, although it merits noting that the cacao preparations they enjoyed, formative as they were in the long history of chocolate, bear little resemblance to the delicacy of today.
For starters, the Mokaya, like later Indigenous peoples of Mesoamerica, didn’t eat their cacao-made specialties. They drank them. After roasting and grinding the seeds and extracting the mucilaginous pulp of Theobroma cacao, they added water and, on occasion, let the mix ferment. Yes, that’s right. The Mokaya’s chocolate was sometimes at least mildly alcoholic, a factor that may have had something to do with its ritual significance.
Other ingredients like chiles, vanilla and honey may have been added sometimes in these early chocolates, for which evidence exists as far back as 1900 BC, meaning this was an early but significant aspect of Mokaya culture. The evidence was found in pottery bowls called tecomates. Yes, the Mokayas were likely the first Mesoamerican culture to specialize in pottery too.
The better chocolate preparations, as noted, were reserved for those of higher status, like chieftains. However, coarser varieties in which cacao and corn dough were mixed were available to the rank and file.
The builders of the first Mesoamerican ballcourt
The Mokaya were early practitioners of what would later become the Mesoamerican ballgame. (Depositphotos)
We don’t know what the population of Mokaya culture was at its peak, only that it was one of the largest societies of its time. The Mokaya’s largest community, at least until it disappeared around 1300 B.C., was Paso de la Amada, the site of high-status residences of the pole-and-thatch variety, and the oldest Mesoamerican ballcourt ever built.
According to a study published by archaeological excavators Clark, Blake, and Richard G. Lesure, the amount of labor required to construct it suggests it must have had political or religious significance. Why? Its enormous size (85 meters by 30 meters) made it the largest structure in Mesoamerica that we know of at that time. What’s really interesting, though, is its estimated completion date of 1650 B.C., which scuttles any remaining thought that the Olmecs invented the Mesoamerican ballgame — the Olmec culture emerged sometime from 1600 to 1500 B.C.
Etlatongo, in the Oaxacan highlands, is the site of the next oldest discovered ballcourt, dating to 1375 B.C. The Olmecs, Toltecas, Maya and Mexica would all adopt the Mesoamerican ballgame in later years, but the Mokaya played it first.
The first documented artists in Mesoamerica
Between the chiefs and the farmers, the middle tier in Mokaya society was filled by artisans and traders. The former pioneered the first pottery tradition in Mesoamerica during the Barra phase (1900–1700 B.C.) of Mokaya culture, turning out ceramics noted for their polish and sophistication. The technical skill of these early artists flowered even further during the subsequent Locona phase (1700–1500 B.C.), when potters produced a greater variety of vessels for a broader range of societal purposes. The earliest securely dated examples of pottery in Mesoamerica are from the Mokaya, circa 1550–1400 B.C.
Perhaps one day we’ll discover the Mokaya didn’t invent Mesoamerican agriculture, nonegalitarian society, chocolate, pottery and the traditional ballgame — it’s hard to anticipate new finds in antiquities — but the current evidence says they did, meaning that the “Corn People” established the foundational elements that would be hallmarks of Mesoamerican society forever after.
Chris Sands is the Cabo San Lucas local expert for the USA Today travel website 10 Best, writer of Fodor’s Los Cabos travel guidebook and a contributor to numerous websites and publications, including Tasting Table, Marriott Bonvoy Traveler, Forbes Travel Guide, Porthole Cruise, Cabo Living and Mexico News Daily. His specialty is travel-related content and lifestyle features focused on food, wine and golf.
Visiting Puerto Vallarta and want to catch more of a local's view of the resort city? Try the public bus system. Our guide tells you what you need to know. (Shutterstock)
There are few better ways to get to know a city than from the seat of a bus. In Puerto Vallarta, that seat might be plastic, slightly cracked and surprisingly loud, but it comes with a front-row view of daily life in one of Mexico’s most beloved beach towns. And for just 10 pesos a ride, it’s one of the best bargains in the Bay.
If you’re visiting Puerto Vallarta, or perhaps newly settling in, here’s everything you need to know to make the most of this humble yet efficient public transport network.
First things first: Where’s the bus stop?
While some bus stops look like this, others aren’t so formal. You’ll have to look for the universal clue to a bus stop: a street corner with a bunch of random people clustered together, trying not to look at each other. (Internet)
Puerto Vallarta’s bus stops are often more concept than structure. While some are marked by a small sign or faded shelter, many have simply vanished — or never existed in the first place. Locals know the drill: gather on a familiar corner and wait. Your best bet is to look for a small group of people standing together, especially near intersections. That’s your cue.
Out in the colonias (neighborhoods farther from the tourist zone), the system is a bit more flexible. Buses will stop just about anywhere someone’s waiting: at a corner, in the middle of the road, or even waving from the sidewalk. A raised hand doesn’t guarantee the bus will stop, but point purposefully to the road in front of you and you may get lucky.
Welcome aboard: What to expect
Puerto Vallarta’s buses are increasingly modern, some using alternative energy sources like natural gas. (Government of Jalisco)
Yes, Puerto Vallarta has new buses. And they’re great. Many are clean, powered by natural gas, and technically have air conditioning, though don’t count on the A/C being turned on. Still, they beat the sweltering metal boxes of years past. Though, depending on the route, you may be blessed with a ride aboard these rickety time capsules.
Fares are flat: 10 pesos gets you just about anywhere in the city proper. Pro tip: Once aboard, get to your seat fast. Drivers don’t always wait for you to settle before gunning it. And while the first few rows — often painted yellow — are reserved for the elderly, disabled or pregnant, the rest of the bus is fair game.
The routes: Centro, Túnel and beyond
The bus is a cheap way to explore other parts of PV besides the beach, like the beautiful Zona Romantica. (Shutterstock)
Navigating the bus system is surprisingly intuitive if you know what to look for. Buses have signs in their front windows indicating their general route. If you’re heading downtown from the Hotel Zone, grab a bus marked “Centro.” This one snakes through downtown and ends in the Zona Romantica.
Want to skip the congestion of El Centro and get to the Zona faster? Take a bus marked “Túnel.” This route bypasses downtown via the tunnels, offering a theoretically speedier ride with a peek at the hills and backstreets of Vallarta most tourists never see. Whether or not it’s faster to go through the tunnel, due to traffic and speed bumps, is up for debate. I’ve personally never timed it.
If you’re southbound toward Mismaloya or Boca de Tomatlán, head to the terminal at Constitución and Basilio Badillo. Buses depart regularly and cost the standard 10 pesos. These are also your rides to the Puerto Vallarta Zoo — get off at the Barcelo Hotel in Mismaloya — or onward to sleepy villages.
Going further afield
With a plethora of routes, you can visit tourist attractions like Vallarta’s botanical garden. (Vallarta Mágico)
Looking for the Botanical Gardens or the cool mountain town of El Tuito? Those buses leave from Aguacate and Basilio Badillo. Expect to pay around 40–50 pesos for the ride and plan for at least 50 minutes.
A few local quirks
Avoid buses that have “Pitillal” scrawled on them — unless you want the truly scenic route. (Internet)
Let’s talk about the airport. If you’re traveling light, skip the pricey taxis and head to the pedestrian bridge outside the terminal. Locals gather on the airport side to catch buses heading south. Avoid any bus that says Pitillal unless you’re in the mood for a scenic detour through Vallarta’s backstreets.
If you do need to take a taxi, use the pedestrian bridge to cross the highway, where you’ll find a string of yellow taxis. These taxis are often cheaper than the ones you will get directly at the airport.
If you’ve got time and no agenda, hop on any bus and stay aboard until the end of the line. For 10 pesos each way, you’ll be treated to a real slice of local life. It may not be glamorous, but it will be memorable.
Finding your route
Forget costly taxis! Take the bus to and from Puerto Vallarta’s airport. (Aviación 21)
A website called RutasVallarta.com claims to help you search routes by destination, but in my experience, the map is often broken. Google Maps does a much better job of telling you where to go. You can also ask a local.
You can find the routes laid out on the website if you visit rutasvallarta.com/rutas, but you’ll have to know the start and end point of the entire line to find where you want to go. It’s much more efficient to use Google Maps.
Once you get the hang of the buses, they’re a fantastic way to explore the city like a resident. And, fortunately, the city isn’t so big that you end up very far away from where you want to be. If all else fails, Uber is always just a tap away.
Meagan Drillinger is a New York native who has spent the past 15 years traveling around and writing about Mexico. While she’s on the road for assignments most of the time, Puerto Vallarta is her home base. Follow her travels on Instagram at @drillinjourneys or through her blog at drillinjourneys.com.
Waitstaff on duty at Flora's Field Kitchen, a restaurant in Animas Bajas, Baja California Sur. Its produce, meat and dairy are obtained from its own nearby farms. (Flora Farms)
Los Cabos has always boasted an abundance of fresh local seafood, but over the past two decades, local produce and meats have also become staples at many area restaurants — certainly in the municipality’s best restaurants.
Although not an agricultural powerhouse, Los Cabos does produce a significant amount of organic produce.
Los Cabos is not Mexico’s biggest agricultural producer, but it is Mexico’s biggest producer of organic agriculture. (Flora Farms)
“We are the number one region in Mexico that produces organic vegetables and fruit,” Rodrigo Esponda, Managing Director of the Los Cabos Tourism Board, told Travel Pulse Canada. “Everything is for local consumption; we don’t export.”
Los Cabos’ acclaimed farm-to-table food scene
Nowhere is the ethos of local produce for local consumption more evident than in the municipality’s acclaimed farm-to-table restaurants. Flora Farms was the first, with Gloria and Patrick Greene pioneering the trend when they bought land in Ánimas Bajas, just outside San José del Cabo, in 1992.
Flora’s Field Kitchen opened in 2010. Today, the 135 or so types of fruits, vegetables and herbs grown on the seven-acre farm and neighboring ranch are reserved for use at the restaurant or Flora Farms market, or for employees or owners of the property’s culinary cottages; if they grow too much of anything, it’s donated to the local orphanage or other good causes.
The restaurant dictates what’s grown organically during the farm’s extended 10-month growing season. Crops are rotated often, no pesticides are used and companion planting keeps the soil fertile. For example, corn takes nitrogen out of the soil, so it’s planted with beans, which puts nitrogen back in the ground.
Meanwhile, the adjacent 120-acre ranch raises free-range pigs and sheep with just enough cows to produce dairy for burrata and ice cream. However, they aren’t culled for beef, and due to concerns about carbon dioxide emissions, their numbers are kept to a minimum.
A bartender at Acre, where produce from the restaurant’s farm even makes it into some of the cocktails. (Acre)
Flora Farms and Acre, another Ánimas Bajas-based restaurant, are the most famous of the now numerous Los Cabos farm-to-table operations. Produce grown on Acre’s 20-acre farm provides the backbone of Acre Restaurant & Cocktail Bar — yes, cocktails too, including the figs in its Fig Collins. Meats and seafood are sourced from sustainable local producers.
The organic farming capital of Los Cabos
San José del Cabo, Miraflores and Santiago represent Los Cabos’ arable farm belt. The production in these areas has a long history. As Alba E. Gámez points out in her historical account in “Los Cabos: Prospective for a Natural and Tourism Paradise,” a century ago, San José del Cabo ranchers were managing 24,000 heads of cattle while farmers produced 90 tons of tomatoes along with 690 tons of the piloncillo — unrefined cane sugar — that was once a staple in San José and Santiago.
Nowadays, Miraflores, a town of about 1,500 residents, is Los Cabos’ undisputed organic farming capital, producing crops that grace many a restaurant table in Cabo San Lucas and San José del Cabo. Grower Carlos Manuel González produces about 70 organic products at his Miraflores property, including tomatoes, beets, carrots, radish, lettuce and basil.
Cabo San Lucas has never been able to grow much of anything, but it has always been known for the quality and quantity of its seafood. For much of the 20th century, its now-closed cannery was a major seafood source in Mexico, at its peak accounting for 75% of the nation’s canned seafood products.
Agricultural, ranching and seafood production in Los Cabos
How much meat, fish and produce does Los Cabos account for annually? More than most tourists would imagine. In 2023, the municipality had just under 5,000 acres devoted to farming, but grew over 24,000 tons of produce. Tomatoes and mangoes, two local specialties, accounted for about two-thirds of the total.
Nearly 4 million liters of milk were produced locally in 2023, along with almost 130 tons of eggs. Cattle, pigs, sheep, goats and chickens form the backbone of Los Cabos’ ranches. Commercial fishing is increasingly rare: Over 90% of permits are issued for sport fishing, and Los Cabos now accounts for less than 1% of commercial fish caught in Baja California Sur.
Still, it does produce nearly 300 tons of fish annually for local restaurants, most of which are scale fish and clams. Almejas, or chocolate clams, are a Baja favorite.
Los Cabos beekeepers also produce nearly 75% of the state’s honey. Flora Farms, for example, maintains 48 beehives.
Almejas chocolatas get their name from the color of their shell, not from any rich sweetness. (Villa del Palmar)
Where can you find organic produce and locally sourced meat and fish in Los Cabos?
Summertime is fresh-fruit season in Baja California Sur. The harvest of the most locally emblematic of these fruits, mangos and pitahayas, is celebrated with signature seasonal events. The Festival de la Pitahaya, which is always scheduled for mid-July, is an occasion to celebrate local food in Miraflores. The Festival del Mango is held in Todos Santos, part of the neighboring La Paz municipality. Last year, the festival ran from July 31 to August 4. Given how close together these festivals occur, some summer visitors attend both.
Local farm-to-table restaurants are the best bet for those seeking sustainable food with a certifiable provenance. However, Los Cabos is one of five municipalities in Baja California Sur, and all, including La Paz, are sources of superb produce, meat and seafood, meaning many local restaurants boast at least a few fresh offerings.
Granted, if you go to a local pizzeria or Italian restaurant, you may not see a lot of local produce. However, as tomatoes are a regional specialty, they may have fresh sauce and homemade pasta. But any restaurant of note, including those in luxury hotels in Los Cabos, likely gets its fruits and vegetables from Miraflores. Much of the local seafood is also regionally sourced.
But outside of farm-to-table restaurants and others, like The Woods Cabo, that may source some produce and herbs from onsite gardens, you’ll have to check with your waiter to find out what’s fresh and what isn’t.
Chris Sands is the Cabo San Lucas local expert for the USA Today travel website 10 Best, writer of Fodor’s Los Cabos travel guidebook and a contributor to numerous websites and publications, including Tasting Table, Marriott Bonvoy Traveler, Forbes Travel Guide, Porthole Cruise, Cabo Living and Mexico News Daily. His specialty is travel-related content and lifestyle features focused on food, wine and golf.
Among the faithful in St. Peter's Square, a Mexican expresses his joy at witnessing Pope Leo XIV's introduction to the public. (Marco Iacobucci Epp/Shutterstock)
I am not really a religious person. I followed, predictably, the sociological trajectory of many people who attend liberal churches as kids. They grow and become more educated, which leads them inevitably to identify as “agnostic.”
If you’re like me, you were snarky about it at first. When I was fresh out of college, I’d openly roll my eyes at any kind of religious displays. I watched and rewatchedBill Maher’s “Religulous“ andRicky Gervais’ “The Invention of Lying,” which I still count as excellent movies.
Religulous - The Final Message
Comedian Bill Maher’s film Religulous was part of the writer’s journey toward agnosticism.
Faith and belief, I thought, were for suckers, and those who promoted them were being dishonest. What did I think religion was? The opium of the masses, the sigh of the oppressed creature, to quote Marx a couple of times. It was also a convenient system for keeping women subservient to men — for the record, I still think this.
But as the years have passed, my views have softened, as has the veil that lies between what I say I believe and how I actually behave.
In the end, my ethics are indeed the product of the Judeo-Christian worldview and upbringing, no matter how many times I may have rolled my eyes. These can be summarized pretty easily:
Love justice and your neighbor.
Help those less fortunate than you, even when everyone else gives them the stinkeye.
Turn the other cheek.
Treat others the way you’d like to be treated.
There is no greater show of love and devotion than sacrifice.
You don’t have to be Christian to be a good Christian, especially given there’s so much overlap among the world’s major religions — as well as basic humanist ethics.
A very particular strain of liberation theology has stuck with me — and, apparently, with the new pope, which makes me happy.
The writer notes that while Pope Leo XIV grew up as Robert Prevost in the U.S., he has spent most of his adult life in Latin America. That fact has inspired a sense of kinship for her in the new pope. (Vatican)
Now that I’ve grown even older, I lean a bit closer to Emile Durkheim‘s views on religion than to Karl Marx’s. Religion serves some important social functions, independent of actual belief.
The church is an important institution. At its best, it’s a true community, an extended family, a support group of people with shared values. It can provide meaning and purpose and be a source of feelings of true belonging. Without it, it’s easy for people to feel unmoored from each other.
That said, I am not part of a church. When I go home to Texas, I attend the Unitarian services when I can. It’s a nice community and a place where you go, feel welcome and aren’t expected to spend money. I joke that the Unitarian Church is the ideal religious home for agnostics: It serves the social purpose of a church without the dogma.
In my city, there is no Unitarian church. I occasionally go to Mass with my partner, though, a devout Catholic. The priest has never wowed me with his sermons, but I listen anyway and like being around people.
I also love watching all the gestures of the worshippers — crossing themselves and kissing their thumbs in a dizzying array of combinations. Having never attended catechism classes, I don’t know them myself, but who knows? Maybe I’ll learn eventually.
Though I’m not Catholic — or much of a believer at all — I recognize the importance the Church holds in Mexico. Its ceremonies and rites of passage mark important moments of people’s lives: baptisms, first communions, weddings, funerals, even pilgrimages. In an increasingly agnostic world,close to 80% of Mexicans say they’re Catholic. After Brazil, Mexico has the world’s greatest number of practicing Catholics.
So the election of a new pope is a big deal for practicing Catholics. Much to the world’s surprise, he’s American — a first.
But there’s an important asterisk next to “American.” While Robert Francis Prevost grew up in Chicago, he spent much of his adult life in Peru and became a Peruvian citizen.
In that sense, I’d count him as “American” in the most expansive meaning of the word: a citizen of “the Americas,” not just the United States. The fact that a man who might represent both the U.S. and Latin America was surely a consideration in his election. He was a great choice.
It also makes me feel a kind of kinship with him. We both grew up in the States but have made our lives in Latin America, adopting the language and many aspects of the culture. Many of you, readers, have done the same. While we claim the United States as our own, we also claim Latin America. It is also our home, also part of who we are.
📢 LA ÚLTIMA ENTREVISTA A PREVOST EN PERÚ ANTES DE CONVERTIRSE EN EL PAPA LEÓN XIV🌍
Robert Prevost giving his last media interview in Peru in 2023 as the archbishop of Chiclayo. He is speaking about Peru’s challenges in the aftermath of anti-government protests following the ouster of then-president Pedro Castillo. He called for peace and reconciliation.
Pope Leo XIV, when he addressed the public in St. Peter’s Square for the first time, did so in Italian. He said a few things in Spanish too — a special saludo to his Peruvian faithful, where he was the archbishop of Chiclayo. He did not speak in English. That is okay, and that is also telling. It was a message: “The U.S. may get special consideration for all kinds of other things, but not for this. In this case, it’s not more special than anyone else.”
So far, this new pope seems a lot like the old pope: unafraid to confront injustice and happy to stand up for those less fortunate, even if they’re not Catholics, or even Christians. His views seem to hew closely to liberation theology, as do my own.
Me and Bob do not agree on everything, I’m certain. But that’s all right. Though the dynamics of social media might have us think otherwise, you don’t have to agree on all the same things in order to respect or get along with another person, or wish them well.
For now, I’m just happy we seem to have gotten a good one: someone not just from “America,” but truly a child of “the Americas.”
Mole de olla is the ultimate Mexican comfort dish, packed with fresh vegetables, juicy meat and a touch of nostalgia. (Sergio Hayashi/Shutterstock)
Amigos, I’ve reached a point where I find myself doing things my mom used to do — things I swore I would never do. This week, during one of the hottest weeks of the year, I prepared the warmest dish I could think of, just like my mom and many other Mexican moms would do. I nearly melted from the heat, but it was totally worth it to enjoy a delicious bowl of mole de olla.
Mole de olla is one of my favorite Mexican dishes. It’s easy to eat, delicious and very nutritious. And it’s important to note that it has absolutely nothing to do with the mole you might be thinking of, like mole poblano or Oaxacan mole.
If when you hear the word “mole,” you think of this, get that image right out of your mind. Mole de olla is totally different. (Marco Ortiz-MOF/Shutterstock)
What is mole de olla?
Mole de olla is essentially a soup made with a protein (such as beef, pork or chicken) and various vegetables. The broth is created from the meat used in the dish, along with a chili-based paste.
Every region in Mexico has its own variations on the ingredients and cooking techniques, but all mole de olla recipes include meat, chayote, carrots, potatoes, green beans, corn, xoconostle (a type of prickly pear) and a chili paste made with tomatoes and dried chiles like guajillo or chipotle. The most popular version is made with beef, particularly cuts with meat and bone like chambarete (shank) or other flavorful cuts.
Is it really a mole?
Quick answer: yes.
In a previous article, we discussed what mole is. It’s essentially a sauce or paste made from various ingredients, and the base of this particular dish is a chili paste.
Mole de olla is a Mexican adaptation of the Spanish dish puchero, also a stew/soup loaded with meat and vegetables. (AI-generated image)
Mole de olla may remind you of Spanish pucheros — traditional, hearty broths that include chickpeas, potatoes, meat and legumes. Mole de olla is an adaptation of the puchero, incorporating ingredients native to this region. Therefore, we can confidently say that mole de olla is a 100% mestizo dish.
Once you try it, you’ll never go back!
Mole de olla has a unique flavor: The broth, packed with richness, is slightly spicy due to the dried chiles. Freshness comes from the vegetables. The “substance” we refer to in Mexico comes from the tender, juicy chunks of meat.
Eating mole de olla is like having a religious experience.
Nutridelicious!
A single bowl provides vitamins, minerals, antioxidants, iron, folic acid, protein, fiber and carbohydrates. The hardest part is to have just one bowl.
Hopefully, by now I’ve convinced you that mole de olla is a true culinary gem. So here’s how to make it.
Nutrient-packed, mole de olla is the ultimate comfort dish and the pride of Mexican mothers everywhere. (El Poder del Consumidor.org)
1.5 kg (3.3 lbs) beef with bone (ask your butcher for chambarete or beef shank)
1 marrow bone (hello collagen!)
2 liters (8 cups) of water
1 medium onion
1 sprig of epazote
4 xoconostles, peeled, cored and chopped
2 garlic cloves
3 ears of corn cut into chunks
For the sauce:
3 dried ancho chiles, roasted and seeded
3 dried pasilla chiles, roasted and seeded
1 piece of onion
2 garlic cloves.
For the vegetables:
3 carrots, chopped
5 zucchinis, sliced thick
1/2 kilo (1 lb) green beans, trimmed
2 chayotes, cubed
For serving:
• Lime halves
• Fresh corn tortillas
Mole de olla is such a classic, Mexico’s Agriculture Ministry has called it “the pride of Mexico.” (SADER)
Directions
1. Cook the meat
In a large pot, combine the meat, water, onion, epazote, xoconostles and garlic. Bring the mixture to a boil and skim off any foam. Cook the meat until tender, about 2 hours.
2. Make the chili sauce
Soak the chiles in hot water until softened, then blend them with onion and garlic until smooth. Strain the mixture and set aside.
3. Cook the vegetables
Cook the vegetables separately in salted water or add them directly to the broth, depending on their cooking times. Corn and carrots take longer, while zucchinis and green beans cook more quickly.
4. Combine ingredients
Once the meat is tender, add the strained chili sauce to the pot and let it simmer for 10 minutes. Add the vegetables and cook for 5-10 minutes more until it’s all just tender but still holds its shape.
5. Optional: chochoyones
Some versions include small masa dumplings called chochoyones. To make them, mix corn masa with a bit of lard, salt and chopped epazote. Form the mixture into small balls, make a dimple in each one with your finger and add them to the pot at the end of the cooking process.
Serve the mole de olla piping hot in deep bowls. Include a generous piece of meat, lots of the vegetables and plenty of broth in each serving.
For a complete experience, provide chopped onion, lime wedges and freshly made corn tortillas on the side.
María Meléndez is a Mexico City food blogger and influencer.
A Tijuana sign welcomes travelers leaving the U.S. (Courtesy of Travis Bembenek)
Two weeks ago my wife and I had the opportunity to attend Mexico’s annual Tianguis Turístico (National Tourism Fair). For the first time ever, events for the fair were going to be held in both the United States and Mexico. We jumped at the opportunity to check out the event and see firsthand what seemed to be some great cooperation between the two countries at a time when much more coordination would be mutually beneficial.
The events were held in Tijuana and San Diego, which gave us the added benefits of checking out Tijuana for the first time as well as getting a feel for the San Diego/Tijuana metropolitan area of nearly 5 million people. The area in many ways acts like one big city, with an estimated 125,000 to 150,000 students, workers, tourists and health care patients crossing the border each and every day. I have always wondered how such a massive flow of people can co-exist alongside a significantly fortified wall.
The San Ysidro port of entry is one of four border crossings in the San Diego-Tijuana metropolitan area, where over 100,000 people cross between Mexico and the U.S. every day. (U.S. Green Building Council)
I estimate that I have “crossed the border” over 250 times over the past 30 years, but every single time prior to this trip was in the sky via an airplane. Surprisingly, I have never had the opportunity to actually see the northern border of Mexico, much less cross it by car or on foot. I have, however, had the opportunity to see and cross the southern border.
Years ago, I crossed from Mexico into Guatemala while walking through coffee plantations in the Chiapas city of Cacahoatán with a machete-wielding local (he said it was for the snakes, I’m not so sure). Starting in Chiapas, we walked through fields of coffee plants right into Guatemala with not a fence or border guard in sight. The only way we knew we had in fact crossed the border was from white painted cement posts about every quarter mile or so. Quite an experience, but to tell at another time.
Back in Tijuana, I had the opportunity to cross the border several times, on foot and by car — thankfully with our newly hired San Diego-based writer driving instead of me.
To be clear, I am in no way intending to trivialize or minimize the journeys and struggles of so many millions of people who have crossed (or attempted to cross) the border when compared to my experience. I am also not advocating for open borders — I simply want to share my personal experiences from this trip.
Border crossing No. 1: From Tijuana to San Diego walking via the Cross Border Xpress (CBX) bridge
Upon arrival at the Tijuana airport from our local BJX airport in Guanajuato, we took the CBX. I had heard this was “the way to do it” and after a bit of confusion around if I should buy our CBX tickets separately or at the same time as our plane tickets — we did it separately — we chose this crossing option. I must say that it was a surreal experience.
Less than 15 minutes after deboarding the plane in Tijuana, we were in our U.S. rental car on our way to San Diego! We walked out of the plane, followed the CBX signage, scanned our pre-purchased CBX QR code in a machine and walked about 100 yards to the United States though an elevated tunnel. At the end of the tunnel we handed the U.S. border control agent our passports for a brief moment and literally a minute later were in the U.S. talking to the rental car company representative.
After seeing and reading so many stories about the border over the years, it didn’t even seem possible and took us a while to realize that we actually had landed in Mexico on a domestic flight and minutes later were now driving a car in the U.S.
Border crossing No. 2: Driving from San Diego to Tijuana (on two separate mornings)
I really wasn’t sure what to expect on this crossing. I have read the articles in MND about how border agents in the U.S. and Mexico have recently stepped up patrols of illegal firearms heading into Mexico from the north, so I was expecting to be stopped. We first drove through the U.S. side of the border, having to slow way down but never actually coming to a complete stop. There were lots of fancy-looking machines on one side that I guess were built for people with U.S. passports, but they weren’t working and I was told that they have never yet been operational despite having been installed over a year ago. We drove without stopping through the U.S. border, drove maybe a hundred yards in the “no man’s land” and then came to the Mexican border.
Border walls and fences keep people out of buffer zone between the two countries. (Travis Bembenek)
At the Mexican border, we again only had to slow down due to the all-too-familiar topes (speed bumps) greeting us to Mexico. Although Mexican border patrol agents were stopping an occasional car, we were not stopped and just rolled right through. We never once had to talk to anyone or show our passports on either side of the border. Our friend driving us said that in his several decades of driving south, he has never once been stopped. Total time from our hotel in San Diego across the border and into Tijuana was less than 20 minutes. Amazing.
Once in Tijuana, it is like we had landed on another planet — everything was different. I must say that Tijuana was better than I expected given the quite negative pre-conceived notions that I had about the city and the border area in general. It was a massive city literally mashed up against the border wall with countless restaurants, bars, strip clubs, pharmacies, banks, plastic surgery clinics, dentists, hospitals and other health care clinics. I couldn’t help but feel that this was a sad first impression of Mexico for so many Americans and equally an odd stereotype for Mexicans of what Americans are wanting to cross into another country for.
Within just a few yards of crossing into Mexico, we took a hard right turn and headed along the wall directly towards the ocean. It was a weird experience, driving along the see-through double metal wall (with U.S. soldiers actively installing razor wire in between the two walls). All within just a few hundred yards of driving one goes from U.S. commercial buildings through a militarized border zone to a new city with Viagra sold on nearly every corner.
We drove to where the wall goes out into the ocean, parked the car and walked around a bit. It was a heavy feeling — sad actually. I couldn’t help but think that the birds perched on the wall could freely go back and forth between the two countries, the fish in the water as well, but we humans haven’t been able to figure out how to live as neighbors without walls. Perhaps that sounds naive, but it’s what I thought in the moment as I put my hand on the wall and reflected on U.S.-Mexico relations.
Art and photographs decorate a binational friendship garden built in 2007. (Travis Bembenek)
There were pictures of kids from both San Diego and Tijuana who had created and planted a “friendship garden” together on the Mexican side of the border in 2007. A sign said that the purpose of the garden was to “create a place where people can make friends across the border.” I don’t say this in any way as a political statement or commentary, but it feels like in many ways we haven’t progressed a lot since then. I say that as a human being, not as a Republican or Democrat.
I was offered to be taken to the part of the border where family members from both sides can actually hug each other through the wall from opposite sides of the wall. I declined to see that — it would be too painful to see. Perhaps I should have gone to see it. Perhaps more people should see it.
Border crossing No. 3: Driving from Tijuana back into San Diego
This was the border crossing that I guess I was most looking forward to. Outside of the comfy confines of the CBX tunnel bridge, what would it be like to cross back into the United States? We have all read the recent headlines — the border has been sealed nearly shut, very few illegal immigrants are crossing anymore and both Mexico and the U.S. have sent troops to the border to assist in controlling and stopping drug and human trafficking.
It feels like half of Tijuana’s streets are actually just lanes preparing and positioning you to cross the border. Having Global Entry, we went with our friend into the SENTRI lines. He confidently told us that, in several decades, he has never once been stopped for inspection.
As we approached the U.S. border, we handed our friend our passports and he handed them and his Global Entry/SENTRI card to the border patrol agent. She immediately asked us, “Where are the other two SENTRI cards?
“My wife and I both have Global Entry and the new passports with chips in them,” I responded, thinking the passport chips had the Global Entry/SENTRI card “incorporated” into them. Turns out I was wrong, very wrong… and we were waved into secondary inspection.
As we rolled into the secondary inspection area, it was now U.S. military troops telling us what to do. Troops with guns and fatigues, who told us to first very slowly drive our car through what looked like a giant airport metal detector. We then were told (not asked) to drive the car to another area and get out of the car to be questioned. Four agents did a deep inspection of our car, tapping the doors, pushing down on the seats, checking under the car, under the hood and in the trunk. Drug sniffing dogs helped. My wife and I were brought up on computer screens and asked a series of questions. The whole process took some 30 minutes.
Of course we had nothing to hide and made an honest mistake, but it felt awkward, uncomfortable, intimidating. We were always treated with respect, but it wasn’t a fun experience. Not the greatest reception back into our country either.
Mexico News Daily CEO Travis Bembenek at western-most end of the border wall. (Travis Bembenek)
For those that frequently cross the border, perhaps my experiences are ones that you have seen and experienced many times before. For those that have not, it’s worth seeing, feeling and experiencing first hand.
For those of you who have been to Berlin, Germany, and seen where the wall once was — dividing a city into two separate countries — it’s hard to imagine that could have actually happened. I couldn’t help but hope that a future generation of Mexicans and Americans can someday look back and only imagine what it must have been like when there was a wall separating the communities of San Diego and Tijuana.
Travis Bembenek is the CEO ofMexico News Daily and has been living, working or playing in Mexico for nearly 30 years.
