Authorities have emphasized that although the road closures may cause slow traffic and delays across the city, they do not represent an actual risk to the public. (Gobierno de Michoacán/Cuartoscuro)
A road blockade drill will take place on Monday at seven access points to the Guadalajara metropolitan area, as part of a coordinated security and emergency response initiative involving authorities from all three levels of government.
According to official notices, the drill will start at 1 p.m. and is expected to last for a couple of hours, though the duration may vary at each location.
Authorities will set up controlled roadblocks at the following entrances to the city to rehearse protocols for potential real closures due to violence, major accidents or other emergencies:
Highway to Zacatecas
Highway to Saltillo
Highway to Lagos de Moreno
Highway to La Barca
Highway to Chapala
Highway to Colima
Highway to Vallarta
Authorities have emphasized that although the road closures may cause slow traffic and delays across the city, they do not represent an actual risk to the public.
Motorists are expected to allow emergency vehicles to pass during the operation and give them priority in locations where the drill will occur. They also request that residents remain calm, seek information through official channels and avoid sharing unverified information.
Monday’s drill will take place almost five months after the road blockades that occurred on February 22 following a federal operation in Jalisco that led to the capture and death of Nemesio “El Mencho” Rubén Oseguera Cervantes, founder and top leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG)
During the operation, vehicles were set on fire and roads were closed in various parts of the state and the country.
Frida Kahlo wasn't just one of the greatest painters of the 20th century, she was also a teacher. She's pictured here with students, "Los Fridos," in Mexico City circa 1943. (@womensart1/X)
Mentioning a name as famous as Frida Kahlo’s can bring thousands of ideas to mind: from colors and flowers to art pieces. But there is a side of her that few people have seen, and even fewer have explored deeply. The artist, with her handful of passions and her unique way of seeing, couldn’t help but find herself on the path of teaching. This is the story.
Frida, the student
Kahlo was never an art student herself. Her terrible accident at age 18 prevented her from finishing high school, which she was attending at the National Preparatory School (Escuela Nacional Preparatoria) in Mexico City. She was one of the first female students to attend, one of 35 women among 2,000 men.
Regardless of what we know about her today, during her youth she wanted to go to a university to take a completely different path: medicine. Although she had no way of knowing what destiny was about to bring, she had been a child of ill health. Perhaps that made her interested in being a doctor. One day, coming home from school, an awful bus crash changed the course of her life. According to official medical records, Kahlo suffered from a “fracture of the third and fourth lumbar vertebrae; three pelvic fractures; fractures of the right foot; dislocation of the left elbow; a penetrating abdominal wound caused by an iron tube that entered through the left hip and exited through the vagina, tearing the left labium. Acute peritonitis. Cystitis with catheterization for several days.”
For a whole month, she stayed at the Red Cross facilities, waiting for her body to heal enough to go back home. After that, Kahlo had to stay at home for two years, which meant a brutal stop to her studies and a lot of time on her own. She felt asphyxiated by the plaster body casts and felt a growing desperation from not being able to leave her room. So, she began to paint.
From apprentice …
Having so much time alone became the seed for an activity that later became an obsession: the act of looking. At fruits, at animals, at herself. Even though she never attended a traditional art school, she had acquired skills from working at her father’s photographic workshop. She hand-painted black-and-white pictures and learned how light behaved on different surfaces.
Being in bed made Kahlo become the artist we know today. She turned her anxiety to know the world into a pictorial universe with a style so unique we are still trying to untangle it. While her self-portraits are her best-known artworks, there is a whole host of early still lifes that are entirely worth exploring.
… to master
Kahlo’s devotion to painting harnessed her passion into empirical knowledge that would later be passed down to her beloved students at the La Esmeralda School of Art. As with every other aspect of her life, her way of teaching was unconventional. She approached her students, affirming she was there to learn with them and that she had nothing to teach. According to them, this statement was far from the truth.
By 1942, when artist Antonio “El Corzito” Ruiz decided to create La Esmeralda, Kahlo had already lived many lives. She had divorced Diego Rivera once and married him twice; she had lived for periods of time in the U.S., and she had painted some of her most iconic pieces. To her, it was a surprise she was offered the teaching job; to everyone who knew her, it was not. She was in charge of “Pictorial Initiation” or, in other words, in charge of making students fall in love with painting.
‘Los Fridos’
Frida Kahlo taught her students the language of colors and shapes, and helped them to understand how artists look at life. (PBS)
If we said Kahlo created a school of painting, we would be wrong. Not that she wanted to, anyway. The first day she stepped into the classroom was going to change, unknowingly, the lives of some of her students.
From the start, Kahlo tried to make them speak the language of colors and shapes. Instead of giving them lectures filled with theory, she asked them questions: “How many colors do you see in this tree?” Throughout the lessons, she started unveiling her way of looking at life and transmitting it to her students. Unfortunately, her ill health made her unable to continue going to La Esmeralda, which was located in the Centro Histórico, far from her house in Coyoacán.
Lessons from ‘Casa Azul’
Nevertheless, Ruiz stopped her attempts to quit completely. “You have a really nice garden at home. Teach there.” At first, a modest number of students attended, but as classes went by, just four of them remained. Their presence in Kahlo’s famous “Casa Azul” gave Arturo Estrada, Arturo García Bustos, Guillermo Monroy and Fanny Rabel the nickname of “Los Fridos.”
When remembering these days in Coyoacán, all of them mention different details but the same feeling: the certainty that someone believed in their work as artists. Kahlo taught them much more than just painting. As they all came from less privileged backgrounds, she sometimes took them to the movies, gave them materials and even invited them on picnics with Rivera.
Estrada remembers the times Rivera and Kahlo took them to Teotihuacán in his memoir, written by Rodrigo Ortega Acoltzi:
“We went to Teotihuacán several times over the years. Our teacher used to say that to create modern art, we had to study our roots, understanding the past in order to portray the present and project the future.”
The mentor
Frida Kahlo’s legacy as a painter is forever secured, but her status as a teacher remains underrated. As of 2026, she still has one living student: 100-year-old Arturo Estrada. (Camila Ayala Benabib/Cuartoscuro.com)
She not only encouraged Los Fridos to see the world and paint it, but she also opened doors for them. Kahlo secured the walls of a “pulquería” (a place where pulque, an ancient alcoholic beverage, is sold) near her house. She made a deal with the owner: the materials would be provided by Rivera and her, but the work would be free. He agreed. When the murals were finally done, the owner threw a huge party attended by many Mexican intellectuals: Salvador Novo, Concha Michel, Carlos Pellicer and even Golden Age actress Dolores del Río. It was a party to remember.
Kahlo also helped García Bustos, Estrada and Monroy get funding to explore the Yucatán Peninsula and make drawings. The three of them had the opportunity to sleep in a yet-unexplored Uxmal and walk through the ruins next to field archaeologists. Their drawings became paintings that were later included in a collective art exhibition.
As for Fanny Rabel, Kahlo encouraged her by promoting her work since her first solo exhibition at the Liga Popular Israelita. She accompanied her and even participated in the curation of the event. For the exhibition’s introductory text, Kahlo wrote: “Fanny Rabinovich paints as she lives, with tremendous courage, intelligence and sharp sensitivity.”
Farewell to Frida
Frida Kahlo passed away on July 13, 1954, at age 47. Her funeral was held at the Palace of Fine Arts (Palacio de Bellas Artes) in Mexico City. During the ceremony, three of the four students were present. Reflecting her communist affiliation, García Bustos, Estrada and Monroy suggested to Rivera the idea of covering Kahlo’s coffin with the communist flag. This symbolic act was so controversial that André Iduarte, her lifelong friend and director of Bellas Artes, was fired after the ceremony.
Beyond the political drama and the grand funeral, Kahlo’s most enduring legacy walked out of Bellas Artes in the steps of her students. They spent the rest of their lives dedicated to the canvas. Decades later, Arturo Estrada — now 100 years old and the final living member of Los Fridos — is still actively creating art.
Lydia Leija is a linguist, journalist and visual storyteller. She has directed three feature films, and her audiovisual work has been featured in national and international media. She’s been part of National Geographic, Muy Interesante and Cosmopolitan.
The scope of Guadalajara's toxic water crisis has long been evident to residents, who have only to look at that's coming out of their taps to know it is toxic. (Victor Ibarra)
GUADALAJARA, Mexico — As the Jalisco government plans to spend more than 20 billion pesos to overhaul Guadalajara’s aging and long-neglected water system, residents across Mexico’s second-largest metropolitan area have launched an unprecedented effort to answer a more immediate question: What is coming out of their taps?
Working alongside university scientists, neighborhood volunteers have collected hundreds of water samples, documented hundreds of health complaints and built a citizen-led monitoring network that has become the public face of a water crisis authorities have yet to fully explain.
Protests have continued in Guadalajara as city residents seek transparency and a voice in finding solutions. (Victor Ibarra)
Four months ago, under the banner “Mas Agua, Menos Mundial” (More Water, Less World Cup), hundreds of Guadalajara residents marched through the city center carrying bottles of murky tap water.
The citizen movement for transparency and accountability
Some held jars filled with brown sediment. Others described rashes, stomach illnesses and respiratory problems they believed were linked to the foul-smelling water flowing from their faucets. Children took turns smashing a piñata bearing the face of Jalisco Gov. Pablo Lemus as protesters chanted for accountability from SIAPA, the metropolitan water utility.
The next day, SIAPA’s director was gone.
Since March, the movement that hit the headlines with angry residents holding up bottles of dirty water has evolved into a broad citizen-led campaign that combines community science, public health advocacy, legal action and sustained public pressure. Through the citizen campaigns “The SIAPA We Want” and “Corrupt SIAPA,” neighborhood volunteers have trained as water monitors and collected hundreds of samples across the Guadalajara metropolitan area.
The effort is supported by the Mexican Institute for Community Development (IMDEC) and academics from ITESO, Guadalajara’s Jesuit university. Together, they have documented hundreds of health complaints, delivered technical reports to public health authorities and launched a coordinated legal campaign, all with the goal of forcing greater transparency about the quality of the water flowing from Guadalajara’s taps.
A collective complaint
In recent days, the coalition has filed a collective complaint backed by more than 1,500 signatures, along with a technical report, demanding that health authorities conduct independent testing and declare a preventive public health alert. Representatives of more than 30 neighborhood organizations, universities, environmental groups and labor unions delivered a technical report and petition to Jalisco’s health protection agency, COPRISJAL, as well as federal health authorities and Mexico’s National Institute of Public Health. Their demand was simple: stop asking citizens to trust reassurances and begin producing independent, transparent evidence about the quality of the water reaching people’s homes.
Water in Guadalajara comes in a variety of colors and consistencies, depending on the neighborhood from which it was sourced. Residents want answers on why it’s so dirty. (Victor Ibarra)
The campaign’s evolution mirrors a growing realization among many residents that replacing one official would not answer the questions that mattered most: Why was the water dirty? Was it making people sick? And why, months into the crisis, had authorities still not produced a comprehensive public diagnosis explaining what was happening throughout one of Mexico’s largest urban water systems?
Citizens become the water monitors
Perhaps the movement’s most remarkable achievement has been something few imagined only months ago. Residents have begun testing their own water.
Working with researchers from ITESO University, volunteers have trained as neighborhood water monitors and formed a Metropolitan Network of Community Water Monitors, learning how to collect samples, interpret results and document conditions across the Guadalajara Metropolitan Area (GMA).
Citizen science has become one of the movement’s defining characteristics. Rather than relying solely on protest or political pressure, residents have learned to gather evidence themselves. Volunteers receive training in standardized sampling methods and work alongside university researchers, not to replace accredited laboratories, but to identify potential risks, document patterns and press authorities to carry out the comprehensive testing that community groups argue should already be underway.
Their latest report analyzes 184 samples collected in 90 neighborhoods between March and June.
What testing results are showing
According to the citizen coalition organized under the banner, “El SIAPA que Queremos” (The SIAPA We Want), 93% of the samples showed no detectable residual chlorine — the disinfectant intended to provide a basic barrier against microbial contamination in drinking water. Community monitoring also detected lead, mercury, nitrates, fluorides and coliform bacteria in some samples, prompting demands for immediate testing by accredited laboratories.
“We began these monitoring efforts because there is no official information from SIAPA, there is no transparency and we do not know what the water we are receiving contains,” Diego Rico of the Metropolitan Neighborhood Water Monitoring Network said during a press conference organized by the coalition at the state congress building this week.
The coalition emphasizes that it is not trying to replace government laboratories. Rather, organizers say citizen science has become necessary because residents have been left without reliable information about the water reaching their homes.
Environmental researcher Veyda Alcala of ITESO, who helped analyze the findings, put it this way: “Community evidence cannot be met with dismissal, silence or omission. It must be met with official verification, transparency, public health measures and accountability.”
She also warned that while boiling water can eliminate bacterial contamination, it does not remove heavy metals — and may actually concentrate them.
Two visions of the crisis
The citizen coalition’s demands come as the Jalisco government has publicly acknowledged the seriousness of the problem.
Earlier this week, Cabinet Chief Alberto Esquer acknowledged that water quality in Jalisco is “a real, historic problem” while unveiling a 30-point strategy involving more than 20 billion pesos (roughly $1 billion) in infrastructure investments.
The plan focuses on upgrading treatment plants, constructing a replacement Chapala-Guadalajara aqueduct, improving pumping systems and modernizing other parts of the metropolitan water network.
Critics say the government is proposing billion-peso engineering projects before answering a more immediate question: What is contaminating the water people are receiving today?
State Deputy Valeria Avila voiced that concern bluntly during Wednesday’s press conference.
“It seems the state government wants to solve everything through pipes and more money,” she said, arguing that lawmakers should not approve massive new investments until authorities fully explain the causes of the contamination and how residents will be protected in the meantime.
Systemic analysis is needed
Water engineer Arturo Gleason of the University of Guadalajara, who has written and spoken out extensively about the crisis, welcomed the fact that state officials have finally broken months of public silence.
But he argues that announcing major infrastructure projects without first conducting a comprehensive scientific diagnosis risks treating symptoms rather than causes. Authorities, he says, need to determine what is happening throughout the entire system — from Lake Chapala, the Calderon reservoir and groundwater wells to canals, treatment plants, storage tanks and Guadalajara’s 8,500-kilometer distribution network — before deciding which investments are needed.
From protest to public participation
Guadalajara Metro Area residents want clean water, but they also want to know what’s in the water they’ve been drinking from the tap, and what the health consequences are. (Victor Ibarra)
The movement has also broadened beyond monitoring. Organizers say they have documented more than 900 citizen complaints since March, including reports of gastrointestinal, respiratory and skin ailments.
Their petition asks health authorities to establish a permanent working group on water quality and public health with citizen participation, conduct independent testing in affected neighborhoods, investigate why so many community samples lacked residual chlorine, determine the source of contaminants including lead and mercury, and declare a preventive public health alert under the precautionary principle rather than waiting for more people to become ill.
The campaign will continue throughout July with the so-called Citizen Mobilization Days for Clean Water and Health, including events at the state and national human rights commissions, a citizen evaluation of SIAPA’s new director and demonstrations calling for accountability in unresolved corruption cases involving former SIAPA directors.
Inviting more people into the process
Even SIAPA’s own workers acknowledge the depth of the problem.
“It is not the workers’ fault,” said Jose Gonzalez Gonzalez, secretary of the utility workers’ union. “We lack vehicles, materials and supplies. We are the ones who face the public every day, and we recognize that access to water is a human right. But if workers don’t have the tools they need, how can we guarantee that supply?”
The coalition insists it is not asking the public to accept its conclusions without question. Instead, organizers say they want government institutions to do what they believe should have happened months ago: conduct transparent testing, release the results publicly and invite independent experts and citizens into the process.
“If authorities insist the water is safe,” Maria Gonzalez of the Mexican Institute for Community Development (IMDEC), one of the movement’s organizers, said this week, “let them prove it with public data, independent sampling and verifiable results.”
Tracy L. Barnett is a Guadalajara-based freelance writer and the founder of The Esperanza Project.
Mexico's is the world's biggest beer exporter, and sells some of the globe's most instantly recognizable brands. (Created with Gemini)
Mexico has built a global beer empire, turning a historic brewing tradition into massive economic power. From sun-drenched ads to the top of U.S. sales charts, Mexican beers have grown from local refreshments into global cultural and financial powerhouses.
This guide dives into the vibrant world of Mexican beer. We explore local drinking habits, decode quirky bottle names and highlight major sales milestones. We also look at how mega-events like the FIFA World Cup trigger record-breaking local retail booms, and track century-old favorites like Corona, Modelo and Victoria that continue to remain relevant.
Finally, we look at the shifting population trends and smart marketing moves that helped brands like Modelo Especial win over international drinkers, crowning Mexico as the undisputed king of beer exports.
Impressive data backs Mexico’s status as the world’s top beer exporter, a position that brought in US $6.72 billion in 2024 alone. At home, beer easily wins as the country’s favorite alcoholic drink. In fact, 69% of adult Mexicans choose beer over other alcohol, drinking an average of nearly 80 liters per person every year.
Mexican drinkers also use a colorful local vocabulary for bottle sizes. Locals choose between 210-ml mini bottles (called coronitas or ampolletas) and standard 355-ml medias. For bigger parties, drinkers buy massive 940-ml bottles called caguamas (named after loggerhead turtles) or giant 1.2-liter caguamones.
Despite this deep local identity, two foreign brewing giants dominate Mexico’s commercial market: AB InBev (which bought Grupo Modelo) and Heineken México (which runs famous brands like Tecate and Dos Equis).
The ongoing 2026 FIFA World Cup has triggered a massive retail boom across Mexico, and beer sales are leading the charge. Data from Deloitte shows that beer sales will drive a staggering 55% to 65% of the tournament’s total economic boost. Major host cities like Mexico City, Guadalajara and Monterrey expected a 10% spike in sales — or triple the normal profits.
However, delivering enough beer to eager locals and tourists created a massive shipping challenge. Wholesalers and supply chain networks had to react fast, expanding their delivery fleets by up to 25% to prevent empty shelves. Overall, the tournament pumped a projected US $2.73 billion into the economy, proving that beer acts as a main engine for Mexico’s hospitality industry.
Corona Extra celebrated its 100th anniversary in 2025. Today, it stands as a global symbol of Mexican pride and brilliant marketing, holding the title of the world’s most valuable beer brand at US $13.4 billion.
Cervecería Modelo launched Corona in 1925. Early brewers successfully convinced the public to switch from pulque (a traditional, pre-Hispanic drink) to light, European-style lagers by using smart, cleanliness-focused ad campaigns.
The company deliberately chose Corona’s famous clear-glass bottle to show off the beer’s bright golden color. Combined with great storytelling — including golden-age radio shows starring cultural icons like Pedro Infante — the brand wove itself into daily Mexican life. Today, even after an antitrust split forced AB InBev and Constellation Brands to divide U.S. and global distribution, Corona still dominates worldwide. It is also expanding into new areas, like the alcohol-free Corona Cero and freshwater cleanup projects.
Mexico’s brewing history: How it all started, and the oldest surviving brand
Established by Agustín Marendaz in 1865, Victoria holds the prestigious crown as Mexico’s oldest continuously brewed beer brand. Unlike the lighter pilseners that dominate much of the modern market, Victoria is a traditional Vienna-style lager characterized by its rich amber hue, smooth texture and deep, crisp flavor profile. This historic style was originally brought to Mexico by Swiss and German immigrants during the 19th century, heavily influencing the country’s evolving palate before disappearing in its native Europe.
Acquired by Grupo Modelo in 1935, Victoria has maintained immense popularity for over a century and a half through savvy marketing campaigns celebrating Mexico’s unique mestizo heritage, diversity and cultural inclusion. Instantly recognizable by its classic yellow label featuring King Gambrinus, Victoria remains a dominant domestic force and a sentimental favorite that seamlessly bridges Mexico’s deep historical brewing roots with modern beachside relaxation.
In a historic shift for the beverage industry, Modelo Especial passed Bud Light to become the number-one best-selling beer in the United States in 2024, maintaining its crown through a combination of cultural momentum and strategic execution. While a highly publicized political backlash heavily impacted Bud Light’s market share, Modelo’s ascension was already a long-term trend driven by powerful shifting demographics.
The steady growth of a younger, highly diverse Latino population in the United States created a robust consumer base that premium Mexican brands actively thirsted for. Furthermore, distributor Constellation Brands executed a masterclass in marketing by intentionally positioning Modelo toward a broader, multicultural audience, using high-profile sports sponsorships with the UFC and college football to highlight the brand’s core theme of “fighting spirit.”
Only brewed in Mexico, Modelo Especial passed its own centenary as a dual-market champion, leading in sales revenue both at home and abroad (although it has since been passed in volume by Michelob Ultra).
San Miguel de Allende is love at first sight for many travel writers, who keep naming it the "World's Best City." (This image was generated using AI tools)
SAN MIGUEL DE ALLENDE, Mexico – For the third consecutive time since Tuesday, the colonial city of San Miguel de Allende has been awarded the title of “World’s Best City” by an international luxury travel publication whose writing team has not yet moved from the shallow end of their boutique hotel’s heated plunge pool.
The latest accolade, bestowed by New York-based Vanguard Traveler, praises the historic center’s “unparalleled, unfiltered cobblestone authenticity,” according to a press release drafted on a waterproof tablet while senior writer Julian Vance waited for a second round of mezcal-infused palomas. The publication joins two other lifestyle magazines that have independently verified the city’s global cultural supremacy this week without ever crossing the threshold of the hotel’s heavy carved-oak entry gates.
“Pack it up boys, we’ve seen everything we need” – Travel and Leisure (maybe). (Inspired Pencil)
“There is an irreplaceable, historic energy to this place that you can just feel vibrating through the premium terry-cloth of these complementary bathrobes,” Vance said, adjusting his sunglasses to better evaluate the architectural integrity of a nearby stone fountain. “When you look at the way the midday sun reflects off the artisanal rim of a hand-blown cocktail glass, you realize that other global cities simply cannot compete on a cultural level.”
The trend has raised logistics questions among local hospitality staff, who note that the rigorous evaluation process for the multi-page travel features has historically been contained within a 40-meter radius of the swim-up bar. According to internal resort data, the writers’ deep dive into Mexican heritage has so far consisted of analyzing three distinct varieties of poolside guacamole and observing a local hummingbird for roughly 90 seconds.
Spokespersons for the international publications defended the thoroughness of their methodology, noting that a panoramic view of the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel is completely visible if a writer tilts their lounge chair exactly 15 degrees to the left. The editorial board confirmed that while they intend to explore the city’s celebrated art markets, culinary scene and historic plazas, doing so would require putting on real shoes, which could compromise the relaxed objectivity required for the upcoming September issue.
As of press time, a fourth international travel magazine was reportedly preparing to declare the municipality a “UNESCO-worthy bastion of timeless human spirit,” pending the arrival of a fresh order of poolside club sandwiches.
The Spanish "piece of eight," mined and minted in Mexico, became a globally accepted currency as early as the 16th century. (Bank of Canada Museum/Instagram)
In 1904, A. Piatt Andrew published an article in The Quarterly Journal of Economics titled “The End of the Mexican Dollar.” It saw, quite correctly, that a period of 300 years during which silver coins mined and minted in Mexico had been the currency of choice for much of the world was coming to an end.
To understand this remarkable story, we need to understand the very nature of coins. Before coins were invented, humans had to barter: “I will give you six chickens for a sheep.” Small lumps of metal quickly became the currency of choice. Copper, silver and gold were relatively rare in ancient societies, so a small amount of metal held considerable value. Even if you were buying something large, a horse perhaps, you didn’t need to haul around great heaps of metal to make the trade. A lump of metal could also be broken up into pieces to make a series of smaller trades. Metal was also pretty indestructible. It might survive a fire in your house, or could be buried in times of danger and retrieved years later.
The world’s first coins
The Ancient Greeks pioneered the world’s first coins, which predated the wide acceptance of paper currency by 2,000 years. (FORVM Ancient Coins)
Around 500 B.C., the people of Athens conquered the silver mines of Laurion, and their city was suddenly flooded with silver. They saw the advantage of casting the metal into units of standard weight, and the result was the world’s first coins. These were round and marked by a symbol of the city that had minted them, a sign that both the weight of the coin and the purity of the metal could be trusted. From then until the wide acceptance of paper money 2,000 years later, metal coins financed the majority of human trade.
Just as the discovery of silver inspired the Greeks to invent coins, the opening of the rich silver mines of New Spain, as Mexico was then known, led to the production of the round silver coins known, among many other names, as the Spanish dollar, the Mexican silver dollar or the Mexican peso. The adoption of the term peso is an interesting story. Transactions in the Spanish motherland were made with small copper coins called reales. It was not practical to make such low-value coins out of silver, so the Mexican coins were cast with 24.44 grams of silver, making them worth eight reales. For small purchases, people literally cut the heavy coins into triangular pieces, creating the name “peso de ocho” (weight of eight) or peso. And of course, “peso de ocho” became the “pieces of eight” of pirate legends.
The emergent trade economy in Mexico
As mines developed in Mexico, Bolivia and Peru, the Spanish colonies in the Americas were producing about 80% of the world’s silver. However, this was not an even division, as by 1700, the majority of that silver was coming from Mexico. It was also Mexico, with access to both the Atlantic and Pacific oceans, that was becoming the center of world trade. Convoys of merchant ships sailed between Veracruz and Spain, while on the Pacific coast, the great Manila Galleon made its annual trips between the Philippines and Acapulco beginning in 1565. Here, they met with Chinese merchants keen to exchange their luxury goods of spice, silk, porcelain and tea for silver coins.
The Mexican peso did far more than drive commerce. European governments tucked them away in vaults as a reserve, bringing them out to finance the mercenary armies that fought Europe’s endless wars. Sailors in the Mediterranean were paid in silver pesos at the end of a voyage, and Mexican silver coins were used to pay taxes in China. As trade increasingly connected the world, a silver peso that had been mined and minted in Mexico might end up in the palace of a Chinese emperor or be given as an offering in an Istanbul mosque.
Minting the Mexican peso
Producing coins in sufficient numbers became a major enterprise. Mexican mints were owned by rich and influential merchants who bought the ore at a discounted price. Within the mints, armies of workers extracted the silver from the ore, a long, hard process that was damaging to both the workers’ health and the environment. The coins were then produced by hand, first by cutting a disk of metal from the end of a silver bar, then by shaping each piece with pliers, before hammering the coins against a die to create a pattern on each side.
Mints struggled to cope with the vast amount of silver being mined, and the early coins were rushed and crude productions that could vary in shape. This generation of coins is referred to as cobs, perhaps from the Spanish phrase cabo de barra, meaning “end of the bar” and referring to the bar of silver each coin was cut from.
However, what remained consistent, and what made the coins trustworthy and desirable, was the silver content. Over time, technological advances such as mule-driven rolling mills and mechanical screw presses improved both the quality and the quantity of the coins. Grooved edges were added, an important move against the criminal act of chipping, in which gangs chipped away a little silver from coins and used these scraps to make fake coins.
A global currency
The use of Mexican pesos was not restricted to the Spanish world; they were passed on by traders throughout much of Asia. British-occupied North America also used them as the currency of choice, creating a confusing affair where prices were expressed in pounds but goods were paid for in pesos or, as they were more likely to be called north of the border, in Mexican dollars. We have discussed the term peso, but where did the name “dollar” come from?
From the 1700s, there was one coin that rivaled the peso as a “world currency,” and this was the Maria Theresa thaler. These were used throughout the German-speaking world, in Arabia, India and all across East Africa as far south as Ethiopia. The word dollar is believed to have originally been an English corruption of thaler. The Austrian thaler was so similar to Mexican coins in size and appearance that merchants seldom distinguished between them, and the word dollar started to be used for both Austrian and Mexican coins.
Upon independence in 1793, the new U.S. government opened its first mint, copying the size and silver content of Mexican coins, and even adopting the name “dollar.” The world-recognized dollar sign might also have had a Mexican origin, being a simplified version of the coat of arms that appeared on Mexican coins. However, the young United States lacked the silver or the technical skill to produce coins on the necessary scale, and Mexican silver dollars remained legal currency until 1857.
When the peso began to decline
What kept the Mexican dollar in such demand for so long was not its use in the U.S., but the Chinese hunger for silver coins. While daily trade in China was carried out in copper, silver was demanded by the government when paying taxes. The demand for silver became greater in the early decades of the 19th century when the British forced opium imports on the country, causing a considerable drain on China’s reserves of silver coins.
However, by that point, other factors were starting to turn against the Mexican currency. In 1859, silver was discovered in Nevada, the first of a growing number of U.S. silver mines. By 1873, the United States was not only minting its own coins but issuing silver “trade dollars” for use overseas. Similarly, from 1895, British coins minted in Bombay and Calcutta finally started to rival the Mexican dollar in Hong Kong and the Straits Settlements. Japan, having bought its first minting equipment from Hong Kong, started to produce its own silver coins — the yen. It took time for these to gain trust, but by 1900, the Mexican silver dollar was losing ground in the vital Chinese market to British, Japanese and locally produced coins.
A new ‘world economy’
The Mexican peso as it looked at the turn of the 20th century, when it began to lose its world currency status. (Numismaticos)
France had more of a struggle to have its silver coins, known as piasters de commerce, accepted. The first coins were slightly low in silver content and therefore not popular in Asia. The French government tried to correct this mistake by issuing special coins intended just for use across its Asian empire. However, these had so much silver that merchants tended to hoard them or melt them down for the raw metal. As a result, French-issued coins continued to operate side by side with other currencies, including the long-standing Mexican dollar.
Mexico’s silver currency suffered a heavy blow in 1898 when the Philippines, still an important commercial meeting point between China and Europe, was lost to the United States. In addition, the amount of silver coming onto the market from new mines around the world was lowering the value of the metal. Mexican coins were more or less pure silver, so a Mexican businessman wanting to buy, for example, factory machinery from France, would now have to hand over a greater number of coins. For all these reasons, by 1904, The Quarterly Journal of Economics could run its article predicting the imminent decline of the silver Mexican peso.
Bob Patemanlived in Mexico for six years. He is a librarian and teacher with a Master’s Degree in History.
This week marked a return to business as usual after Mexico's World Cup run ended with a round of 16 loss to England on Sunday. (Edgar Negrete Lira / Cuartoscuro.com)
Mexico’s World Cup run gave way this week to two of the country’s most persistent storylines: the fallout from the “El Mayo” Zambada case and economic uncertainty tied to trade and global conditions. El Tri’s tournament ended Sunday with a 3-2 loss to England in the round of 16, a result Sheinbaum called the team’s best World Cup performance despite the early exit, and the match itself became the most-watched soccer broadcast in Mexico this century.
By Tuesday, attention shifted to a sharper dispute with Washington. Sheinbaum used her press conference to ask who lied about the U.S. role in capturing Sinaloa Cartel leader Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada, suggesting American officials misrepresented arrangements made with organized crime figures to facilitate his 2024 capture. Former U.S. Ambassador Ken Salazar denied the accusation in a statement Wednesday, rejecting Sheinbaum’s characterization of events. The dispute unfolded as Zambada’s own legal team asked a U.S. federal judge to consider his age and health when deciding where he’ll serve the life sentence he has agreed not to contest ahead of his July 20 sentencing.
Economic headwinds also came into sharper focus. Switzerland’s president visited Mexico City to deepen trade ties even as Toyota confirmed it will relocate Tacoma production from Tijuana to Texas over the next four years. Mexico’s foreign direct investment ranking and record May exports to the U.S. offered a counterweight, but the IMF lowered its growth forecast for Mexico, citing global uncertainty and Middle East tensions rather than domestic factors. A Pemex corruption scandal also deepened, and the government escalated its response to the deaths of Mexicans in U.S. immigration custody.
Didn’t have time to catch this week’s top stories? Here’s what you missed.
Sheinbaum’s Tuesday accusation that the U.S. misrepresented its role in Zambada’s capture drew a direct rebuttal from Salazar, who denied lying about any FBI arrangement in his Wednesday statement responding to the president. The dispute remains unresolved, with both sides offering conflicting accounts of what U.S. officials promised.
Separately, Foreign Affairs Minister Roberto Velasco announced Thursday that Mexico will pursue criminal complaints in U.S. courts over the deaths of 17 Mexicans in ICE custody or operations since the second Trump administration began, including the fatal shooting of Lorenzo Salgado Araujo in Houston on Tuesday. Velasco said Mexico will file complaints with U.S. Attorneys’ Offices and send cease-and-desist letters to private companies operating ICE detention facilities, in addition to diplomatic notes already sent and appeals made to the U.N. and the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights.
New evidence of FBI involvement in the kidnapping and U.S. arrest of Sinaloa Cartel drug lord “El Mayo” Zambada prompted Mexican officials to accuse former U.S. Ambassador Ken Salazar of lying about the role the U.S. played in the incident. (Mario Jasso/Cuartoscuro)
Economy: Trade ties advance while forecasts and manufacturing shift
Swiss President Guy Parmelin’s visit, aimed at expanding economic and trade cooperation, came in the same week Toyota confirmed it will gradually move Tacoma production to its San Antonio plant, ending a Tijuana manufacturing presence dating to 2002.
Mexico ranked No. 10 globally for foreign direct investment in 2025, a figure Finance Minister Edgar Amador highlighted at Wednesday’s mañanera alongside May’s export data, which showed Mexican exports to the U.S. hit a record even as USMCA renewal talks remain stalled.
The IMF nonetheless cut its 2026 growth forecast for Mexico to 1.2% from 1.6% and its 2027 forecast to 1.9%, changes it attributed to global uncertainty tied to Middle East tensions rather than domestic conditions; Amador pushed back, noting that the IMF underestimated Mexico’s 2025 growth as well.
However, Vinci Airports, the world’s largest private airport operator, said it remains open to further investment in Mexico despite anticipated slower global air-traffic growth. CEO Remi Maumon de Longevialle cited Monterrey’s role as a business hub and a stable concession framework; OMA, in which Vinci is the main shareholder, is preparing to invest another $450 million over five years.
Pemex scandal widens with new corruption complaint
Former Pemex CEO Víctor Rodríguez, arrested Tuesday on domestic violence charges stemming from an attack on his wife in March, is now named in a separate complaint over a 4.8 billion-peso no-bid vehicle-leasing contract awarded during his tenure.
The complaint, filed with anti-corruption authorities and forwarded to Mexico’s financial intelligence unit, tax administration and attorney general’s office, alleges conflicts of interest and questions the legitimacy of the winning consortium, whose listed address in México state reportedly does not exist. Sheinbaum, a longtime associate of Rodríguez, publicly distanced herself from him on June 29 and said the law would be applied fully in his case.
Mexico ranks among world’s top travel destinations
San Miguel de Allende, Oaxaca, Mexico City and Guadalajara all placed among Travel+Leisure’s top city rankings, while the Four Seasons Resort Tamarindo in Jalisco’s Costalegre region was named the top-ranked resort in Mexico and 31st in the world. The recognition comes as Mexico’s tourism sector also drew attention this week for its handling of World Cup-related travel demand.
San Miguel de Allende once again topped Travel+Leisure’s list of best cities in the world, thanks to its “vibrant colonial-era architecture, unbeatable food scene, and eclectic shopping.”
Looking ahead
Zambada’s sentencing on July 20 will test how the case affects Mexico-U.S. relations following this week’s dueling accusations between Sheinbaum and Salazar. The 2026 USMCA review remains unresolved, leaving automotive investment and broader trade planning in limbo even as export volumes hit records. Rodríguez’s legal situation is likely to expand further given the number of federal agencies now reviewing the Pemex contract, and Mexico’s response to ICE-related deaths will shape diplomatic exchanges with Washington in the coming weeks.
🐾 A Chiapas zoo welcomed a newborn Baird’s tapir, with the 8.4-kilogram male calf born at the Miguel Álvarez del Toro Zoo as part of a conservation breeding program for the endangered species.
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.
Author of over 40 books, Sergio Pitol was an enormous influence on contemporary Mexican literature, particularly in his home state of Veracruz. (Instituto Cervantes)
When it comes to Mexican literature, names like Octavio Paz, Juan Rulfo and Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz immediately come to mind for their global influence and stature. And yet, there are too many others to name who have contributed to Mexico’s literary acumen, both contemporary and canonical, in ways that may have been innocuously overlooked with time. Sergio Pitol is one of those voices.
The author of over 40 books — perhaps most famously his “Trilogy of Memory” series of autobiographical essays and travel writing, and his “Carnival Triptych” novels, which include the ubiquitously translated work, “The Love Parade,” a murder mystery that takes place in a World War II-era Mexico City.
A writer of humble origins, yet significant achievements
Despite achieving fame for his work and becoming a diplomatic envoy for Mexico, Pitol preferred to live in Xalapa, Veracruz, where he spent the last 25 years of his life. (Visit Mexico)
After receiving the prestigious Juan Rulfo Prize for Latin American and Caribbean Literature (nowadays known as the FIL Literary Award in Romance Languages) in 1999, Pitol said: “A writer does not write to win prizes or tributes; he does it out of biological necessity; he writes as he breathes. And if his task is ever rewarded, he must accept it as incentive, as something casual, a mere sign of chance. And he will do well to remember, so as to position himself within reality, that … some of the greatest literary figures have not received any, for various reasons.” He would later receive the Miguel de Cervantes Prize in 2005, considered to be the most important Spanish-language literary award. Still, he never yielded on his modesty and unpretentiousness.
It’s fitting for a writer of humble origins that can be traced back to the rural mountains of Veracruz, the mountainous tropical state where he lived for many years and ultimately died in the capital city, Xalapa. In many ways, the city of Xalapa has remained present in his work, in his essence, in his embrace of the written word — Xalapa, of course, being known as the “Athens of Veracruz,” where a confluent mixture of university students, bohemian artists, musicians and poets can be found mingling at any hour along the city’s romantic, flower-shrouded avenues and cafes. He often championed its role in his creative inspiration and open-hearted lifestyle.
An advocate for Veracruz
Pitol chose to live in Xalapa’s Centro Histórico — far less glamorous for a writer of his fame than, say, the metropolitan cores of Mexico City or Guadalajara, and not as charming or well-kept as Oaxaca or Mérida — for many years, simply because he was an advocate of Veracruz and its cultural, often underappreciated, riches and contributions. Sadly, he passed away in 2018 at age 85, a few miles from where my abuelita once lived in the same area.
At the time of his death, The New York Times dubbed him as one of Mexico’s most inventive and honored figures, not simply for his scriptures, but for his role as a Mexican ambassador and diplomat (as a Mexican emissary, he traveled around Poland, Hungary, Italy, China, the former Soviet Union and Czechoslovakia, among other nations).
Here’s a brief look at Pitol’s life and career — from a Xalapeño perspective.
From Mexican orphan to internationally renowned author
Though born in Puebla in 1933, Pitol moved to El Potrero sugar mill in Veracruz, just outside of Córdoba, at age four, following the death of his father. Tragically, he lost his mother a year later, who drowned in the nearby Atoyac River.
Pitol remains beloved in Mexico for many of his works, including his “Carnival Triptych” novels and “Trilogy of Memory” series of autobiographical essays and travel writing. (Editorial Almadia)
As a child and adolescent, he battled malaria and spent significant time with his grandmother, where he learned to appreciate the craft of writing while bedridden. He credits American and British authors like Robert Louis Stevenson and Mark Twain for expanding his sense of the world through adventurous storytelling. His grandma was an adamant reader of Leo Tolstoy, and through her home schooling and encouragement, the young Pitol was exposed to iconic literary voices throughout his early life, up until he left to pursue degrees in literature and law at UNAM in Mexico City at age 16.
Literary fame and public service
His first publication came in 1959, when his short story collection, “Corralled Time,” appeared in Mexico City’s Estaciones magazine. In contrast to his later works, which are celebrated for their whimsy, parody and sense of dark Mexican humor, his early short stories were somber and dealt with conflicts around the lives of children. At large, his writing has been admired for how it combines deep personal experiences with larger Mexican histories and narratives.
From 1960 to 1989, Pitol served as one of Mexico’s most important diplomats and authors, having spent significant time in Moscow during the end of the Soviet Union’s reign, where he ingrained himself in the cultural intellectualism of the region. As a result, many of his writings reflect his views as a globetrotting freethinker. In 2017, the Los Angeles Review of Books described Pitol’s legacy as making “a compelling case for literature as a way of life, as a lens to politics, and as a key element in the experience of history.”
Much of that philosophy was shaped and nurtured by his time in Xalapa, where he permanently relocated in 1993, shortly after his retirement as a diplomat.
Xalapa: Pitol’s expansive garden
The final years of Pitol’s life were complicated by physical ailments — he died of a stroke inside his home, after years of battling aphasia — but were nonetheless crucial in developing Xalapa’s greater ethos of being a literary bastion. That is, Pitol was a seminal figure in not just Mexico’s international scope, but in Xalapa’s local canon and literary reputation.
In 2018, the same year of his passing, Milenio sent a reporter to Pitol’s home in Briones — on the immediate outskirts of Xalapa, located in a breathtaking cloud forest scenery en route to nearby Coatepec. The visiting journalist writes of Pitol’s final moments: a man enjoying his peaceful gardens, even struggling to speak at times, but very much still a spirited national icon full of grace and hospitality, sharing his love of the opera, which, along with the symphony, are a large part of Xalapa’s historied affair with the high arts. (The details recount his former dogs, some of which were named after literary figures like Homer.)
The legacy of Pitol’s work
“Juan Soriano: Perpetuo rebelde,” a book of biographical and critical essays, is one of many volumes from the writer available at Librería Los Argonautas bookstore in Xalapa. (Librería Los Argonautas/Facebook)
In his prior years, he spoke of how many of his ideas emerged while living in and around Xalapa, referencing Palabra y el Hombre — the famed literary magazine that has been published by the school since 1957, making it one of Mexico’s oldest and most respected literary journals, and which still actively releases quarterly issues and hosts cultural events in the city and its surrounding areas. Pitol served as a professor on campus for many years and, until his final days, was a prominently revered faculty member, where he taught everything from classic Mexican literature to experimental German films. In a 2018 publication by Vice, a group of his former students — who went on to become architects, artists, editors and poets — shared photos and memories of their former mentor, Pitol, after learning about his passing.
Sergio Pitol Translations
During his time, the Universidad Veracruzana in Xalapa began to publish a special “Sergio Pitol Translations” series, in which famous texts from around the world were translated into Spanish (the series ended in 2016). In addition, he founded and oversaw the “University Library Collection,” a project which he initiated in 2006 with “the purpose of reaffirming the book as an ideal vehicle for liberation and humanization, (with) titles considered classics of world literature and other disciplines.” According to the university’s official website, Pitol announced that the collection “opens the doors of knowledge to the student, both of the world and of themselves,” reaffirming his tenet of literature as a gateway for human enlightenment. The artwork and imagery for the project were designed and illustrated by local students as part of the university’s Visual Arts program.
A requiem
Today, there is a bookstore, Librería Los Argonautas, located across the street from one of Xalapa’s most prominent parks, which maintains Pitol’s appreciation of classic literature. The bookshop’s owner, Marduck Obrador Cuesta, is one of Pitol’s former students. Upon Pitol’s death, Cuesta published a note, ending with: “Rest in peace, Sergio. I’ll continue reading here.” In many ways, that sentiment is shared by many writers and students of his everlasting work — in Xalapa and beyond.
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.
Writer Ethan Jacobs shares postcard reflections from a Ruta del Desierto bus on the way to Cabo San Lucas. (Ruta del Desierto/Facebook)
CABO SAN LUCAS, Baja California Sur, Oct. 21 — I board the Ruta del Desierto bus at 7:30 p.m. en route to the Autónoma stop. I’m not flush enough to stay anywhere closer to the city center. There’s a woman in an orange blouse singing cumbia, banda and boleros with her own microphone and personal boombox that has pre-recorded songs, though I stopped paying attention after her rendition of “La Llorona,” a traditional Mexican folk song perhaps best known for the Chavela Vargas version. I must not make eye contact with her. I’ll have to tip her later if I do.
That’s how it is with street performers and baristas who give you puppy dog eyes when they tell you, “It’s going to ask if you want to leave a tip.” Plausible deniability is key.
You’ve got mail! Ethan Jacobs has sent you a postcard from Cabo San Lucas, with notes on a strange and twisted bus trip. (Mexico News Daily)
The other passengers …
… know the drill. Their expressions generally betray no emotional investment in her performance, though a select few smirk when her voice crescendoes as she talks about love and martyrdom.
Fluorescent light in the bus flickers, though not in time with anything the woman is singing. Even the bus is opposed to this dog-and-pony show, but what does it know? It’s old and senile, rocking, lurching and creaking. It inches along like an iron worm, or the Magic School Bus’s arthritic grandmother.
Outside, it’s dark, and the bus windows are tinted, so I can’t appreciate the passing landscapes. Understimulation forces me to bring my attention back to the characters on the bus. The middle-aged man with a chinstrap beard lugging a propane tank the size of his lower body. I hope it’s empty. The man sitting beside him with rings on all fingers but one, who grazes on chile-dusted peanuts. If he collects the final ring, he’ll be able to snap his fingers and make all the interloping gringo gentrifiers vanish so he can finally rest in peace. The girl with her back turned to him, watching TikToks at full volume with no headphones — no Latin American public transport experience would be complete without it.
Does she take requests?
As we get closer to Cabo San Lucas, there’s a sporadic ringing like a landline hooked up inside the bus. Doubt creeps in, and for a moment, I wonder if this isn’t actually a mobile radio station with listeners calling in to request their favorite songs as performed by the lady in the orange blouse. In reality, it’s just one stop request after another from passengers wanting to be let off. Maybe they can’t take this woman’s wailing anymore.
Mercifully, she caps her performance at three songs, after which she makes her rounds, lingering by each passenger expectantly like the collection-plate-bearing ushers at the churches my mom used to drag me to when I was a kid. The spirit of San Vicente de Paúl overcomes me, and by some strange sorcery, my fingers slide into my pocket to retrieve pesos that find their way into her outstretched hands. Before I come to my senses, she’s gone.
Ethan Jacobs is a freelance writer and writing coach based in Playa del Carmen. He has written extensively in narrative and short fiction formats, and his work has received recognition both domestically and internationally in microfiction, short fiction and narrative essay formats.
