Category Archives: San Miguel de Allende

Huatulco, San Miguel de Allende

Street Names in CDMX

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By Jan Chaiken and Marcia Chaiken—

Everywhere in Mexico you will find lengthy street names commemorating historical figures or events, and this is particularly true in Mexico City. Although the persons or occasions commemorated by the names of streets in the nation’s capitol are known to most Mexicanos, those of us who did not attend school here as children are generally clueless. Here we hope to help you get in the know about the background of street names so when sitting in gridlocked traffic you feel as if you are surrounded by history rather than just by hundreds of cars belching noxious fumes.

Nearly every tourist who has been in Mexico City is familiar with the Paseo de la Reforma, the grand wide avenue that transverses the city diagonally and looks as if part of the Champs-Élysées had been lifted up from Paris and transported here. Reforma was originally conceived by the Emperor Maximilian, an Austrian installed as the ruler of Mexico during the French intervention (1862-67); he intended to name it Paseo de la Emperatriz in honor of his wife Carlota, but it was given the name Reforma after Maximilian – who badly miscalculated Mexican sentiment towards him – was executed and Benito Juárez became President of Mexico. The name refers to La Reforma, a series of federal legislative enactments that brought about the separation of church and state in Mexico.

As you walk or drive down Paseo de la Reforma, you inevitably encounter the magnificent memorial The Angel of Independence (commonly called El Ángel) at the intersection of Reforma and Avenida Independencia. These names commemorate the 1821 victory of Mexico over Spain in its War of Independence. The Angel was dedicated by the dictator Porfirio Díaz in 1910, on the centennial of the date that independence was declared.

Another street most visitors to Mexico City encounter is Avenida de Los Insurgentes (aka Insurgentes), the longest street in the city. The 28.8-kilometer (17.9-mile) avenue runs from the southwest Mexico-Cuernavaca Highway to the northeast Mexico-Pachuca highway, connecting numerous neighborhoods, including the famous Roma area. Along this route, there are many restaurants, hotels, museums, monuments and entertainment centers. First known as Avenida Santa Cruz, the current name memorializes the people in the insurgent army that fought in the war of independence from Spain.

If you have traveled into or out of Mexico City’s Benito Juárez International Airport, you may have encountered a much less distinguished nearby street: Calzada Ignacio Zaragoza. Its namesake Zaragoza was actually born in the United States in 1829. His family moved to Mexico, where he attended the National Military College.

He served in the Mexican-American War and later was appointed commander of the Mexican Army in Puebla. In 1862 his army was victorious against the French at the battle of Puebla, an event commemorated as Cinco de Mayo, which in recent years has been celebrated, at least enthusiastically in the United States as in Mexico.

Calle 5 de Mayo (pronounced “Cinco de Mayo”) is a major thoroughfare in the historic center of Mexico City; it begins at the Palacio de Bellas Artes and ends at the Metropolitan Cathedral of Mexico City. Calle 5 de Mayo is only one of Mexico City’s many calles de calendario (streets named for dates on the calendar). Avenida Independencia changes its name to 16 de Septiembre as it approaches the historic center of Mexico City to commemorate the date of Mexican Independence. 16 de Septiembre is one block south of Calle 5 de Mayo and runs from the Eje Central, or Avenida Lázaro Cárdenas, to the Zócalo. (Cárdenas was a Mexican army officer and politician who served as president of Mexico from 1934 to 1940; the zócalo is Mexico City’s central square, formally named Plaza de la Constitución). Residents of Mexico would be familiar with the significance of 16 de Septiembre street from their schooling and their experience that the date is a national holiday, with schools, banks and many businesses closed.

One block further south is Calle Articulo 123. This is named after Article 123 of the Mexican Constitution, which is the labor law of Mexico – it guarantees workers the right to fair wages, safe working conditions, and social security benefits. It also ends at Eje Central/Avenida Lázaro Cárdenas. Calle 20 de Noviembre runs south from the Zócalo, perpendicular to the streets already mentioned. November 20th is a national holiday in Mexico that celebrates the beginning of the Mexican Revolution, which ran from 1910 to 1920 and overthrew Porfirio Díaz after he had been president for 35 years.

The 12th of December provides an interesting example of how separation of church and state operates in Mexico. December 12 is the Feast of Guadalupe, a popular national holiday in Mexico; religious processions are held throughout country, including in the Huatulco area, on that date. In Mexico City a very popular tourist attraction is the Basilica of our Lady of Guadalupe. But there is no calle calendario for December 12 near the Basilica of our Lady of Guadalupe. Instead, Avenida de Guadalupe is the name of the street that ends at the Basilica. Our Lady of Guadalupe is the patron saint of Mexico, and her image is one of the best known religious symbols in the world, but secular authorities who designate street names in Mexico City do not commemorate the date December 12.

If the average visitor begins to feel overwhelmed by the details of street names rooted in Mexico’s rich history, we suggest a drive through or stroll around the Polanco neighborhood where the streets are named after luminaries enshrined in history studied in most North and South American and European schools. Beginning with ancient Greece and Rome, Homer, Horace, Aristotle and Archimedes lend their names to streets, and there are streets named after 20th-century notables such as Mahatma Gandhi. Block after block of the small Juárez neighborhood remind us that Mexico City is a major urban center of Western civilization, with streets recognizing London, Liverpool, Amsterdam, Genoa, Tokyo, Oslo, Copenhagen, Rome. And overall, Reforma, Insurgentes, and calendar streets remind us of the struggle to achieve this status.

Huatulco, San Miguel de Allende

Mexico’s French Century: A Whirlwind History of the French in Mexico

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By Deborah Van Hoewyk—

Very, very early on the morning of September 16, 1810, Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla, the well-read priest of Dolores, Guanajuato, stood on a balcony in the dark and delivered his impassioned El grito de Dolores (the Cry of Dolores) for independence from the gachupines (Spanish-born oppressors). Hidalgo’s declaration of independence was steeped in the thinking of the French political philosophers Jean Jacques Rousseau (1712-78) and Voltaire (nom de plume of François-Marie Arouet, 1694-1778).

While the American Revolution (1775-83) was philosophically based on Enlightenment ideas, they were largely expressed in English terms; it was the cries of “liberty, equality, fraternity” in the French Revolution (1789-99) that gave life to the Mexican War of Independence (1810-21). Remember that Napoleon had invaded Spain in 1808 and occupied it until 1813, so, courtesy of the French, 1810 looked like a good time to confront Spain. Fighting dragged on for over a decade, but when it was all over, Mexico was an independent constitutional monarchy with Agustín de Iturbide serving as “emperor”; since that was not the outcome most people had been working for, de Iturbide was overthrown a year or so later by Antonio López de Santa Anna, who set up the Republic of Mexico.

The French aura surrounding the War of Independence led to some serious immigration from France (before that, Spanish rulers had prohibited immigration from countries other than Spain). In the 1830s, France tried to set up a couple of colonies in Veracruz; they weren’t all that successful, but a good number of French people settled permanently in Mexico. By 1849, the French were the second-largest immigrant group, after the Spanish themselves.

French entrepreneurship in Mexico brought on the First Franco-Mexican War—also known as “The Pastry War” (Guerre de Pâtisseries). In 1838-39, King Louis-Phillipe sent some ships to blockade the port of Veracruz, cutting off all Mexican trade with Europe. The goal was to impress on Mexico the idea that they needed to cut down on post-war unrest (there were 20 different presidents in the first 20 years of the Republic). All that chaos had led to the looting of a Mexico City pastry shop (an interesting story in itself), and Louis-Phillipe decided it was time France collected for all losses suffered by all French businesses in Mexico, along with some war debts stemming from French aid during wars in what is now Texas. Basically, Mexico lost, Britain negotiated a treaty, and Mexico paid France.

With some detours through a dictatorial presidency by Santa Anna and territory-grabbing by the U.S., Mexico ended up in debt to France again, which, who knows why they would, had once again come to Mexico’s assistance. However, then-president Benito Juárez declared a moratorium on paying foreign debts; France, Spain, and Britain invaded; Spain and Britain dropped out when they learned France was hell-bent to take over the whole country, which they did in 1862. Before they did, though, they suffered a defeat—en route from Veracruz to Mexico City, they were met with resistance. Led by Ignacio Zaragoza, Mexican forces occupied fortifications in Puebla. The French were unsuccessful in their attack, and were routed into complete retreat on May 5 by a young cavalry officer named José de la Cruz Porfirio Díaz Mori. Although the battle provided only a temporary halt to France’s victory over Mexico, it became known as “Cinco de Mayo,” and like the battle itself, isn’t a very big deal in Mexico. Porfirio Díaz, however, was a big deal, and more about him later.

By 1864, the French had installed Ferdinand Maximilian Joseph, an Austrian archduke from the Habsburg monarchy, as Emperor Maximilian I of the Second Mexican Empire (Iturbide’s brief rule was the First Mexican Empire). Some stories have it that his wife, the Belgian princess Charlotte/Carlota, pressured him to take the job, which he didn’t want. If so, Maximilian’s instincts were right; in 1867, he was executed by a Mexican firing squad as Benito Juárez led the uprising that liberated Mexico from foreign rule.

Juárez remained as president, defeating Porfirio Díaz in the 1871 election, until he dropped dead at his desk in 1872. Díaz began making moves to return to power. In 1876, he succeeded, and embarked on what was effectively a dictatorship (the “Porfiriato”) until 1911, with a little break from 1880-84 to give the semblance of presidential elections. He managed to maintain office by catering to the conservative wealthy and, not incidentally, the French tastes they developed courtesy of Maximilian. When he was finally overthrown in the Mexican Revolution, Díaz fled to Paris; he died in 1915, and is buried in Montparnasse Cemetery.

Despite their ignominious ends, Maximilian, Carlota, and Porfirio Díaz are responsible for lasting French influences in Mexico.

French Architecture

Maximilian brought 19th-century French urban design to Mexico City. Paseo de la Reforma connects the National Palace with Chapultepec Park, and could have been designed by Baron Haussmann, who laid out the Avenue des Champs Élysées in Paris. Remember the neoclassical Beaux Arts movement? That would be the Palacio de Bellas Artes. In Mérida, the Palacio Cantón was built during the Porfiriato and now houses the Regional Museum of Anthropology and History. In Orizaba, none other than Gustav Eiffel designed the Palacio de Hierro, a Neoclassical/Art Nouveau ironwork structure that was to serve as the municipal palace (today it houses offices and a series of small museums—soccer, beer, flags, ex-presidents, the “Roots of Orizaba,” the geography of Orizaba, and a planetarium). Eiffel also made it over to Baja California Sur to the small city of Santa Rosalia, to design the cast-iron Iglesia de Santa Bárbara, mostly notable for its interior barrel-vault ceiling.

Throughout Mexico, you can also see stunning examples of Art Nouveau architecture, courtesy of France, and the immediately succeeding Art Deco, courtesy of any number of countries, including the U.S.

French cuisine

Mexico’s first classic cookbook, El Cocinero Mexicano, was published in 1831 and is planted firmly in the tradition of classic French cuisine—despite its claims to serving up the best of Mexican food. (No one was going to publish a cookbook for indigenous food—that was for the lower classes and cookbooks were hardly necessary.) The continuous state dinners prepared for Maximilian, Carlota, and guests, would have been indistinguishable from over-indulgent 19th-century French banquets. Today, huitlacoche crepes, various mousses, cream soups (carrot with cilantro, perhaps mushroom with epazote, anyone?), and of course, those pastries and some desserts remind us of the French presence in Mexico.

French Fashion

Even before the arrival of Maximilian and Carlota, French fashion made inroads on Mexican taste. Starting as Las Fábricas de Francia in the 1850s (not the same as the current Fábricas de Francia, which is part of Liverpool), Frenchman Victor Gassier began building the fashion emporium that finally opened as El Palacio de Hierro in 1891. Although that building was destroyed by fire, and the store had problems during the Revolution, it reopened as the Palacio de Hierro in 1920 in a new Art Nouveau building (French architect, of course) in Polanco, complete with two stained-glass ceilings done to match ones in Nancy, France (a center of Art Nouveau architecture).   That building reopened in 2016, boasting a $300 million (USD) renovation and another 594,000 square feet of floor space. As you could during the Porfiriato, you can spend big bucks on the latest fashion from France: Chanel, Hermés, Louis Vuitton.