Tag Archives: huatulco

Huatulco

Un Nuevo Amanecer: A Community Lifting Children Toward Their Full Potential

Leave a comment

By Dan Thompson—

Starting their 31st year, Un Nuevo Amanecer (UNA) has been one of Huatulco’s most essential community organizations, dedicated to providing therapy, education, and support to children and adolescents with disabilities. What began as a modest local initiative has grown into a respected center offering physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy, psychological support, early stimulation, and inclusive education programs.

In 2024, UNA delivered more than 1,700 individual therapy sessions, and its 2026 plan includes increasing its reach by at least 15%, serving more families who depend on specialized services not available elsewhere in the region.

A Growing Network of Support

For many years, the annual Blues on the Beach concerts provided nearly 60% of UNA’s annual funding, establishing a strong foundation for the organization’s growth. As awareness has increased, UNA’s support base has broadened significantly.

Donors include local residents as well as members of Huatulco’s international community, demonstrating the shared commitment behind UNA’s mission. Additional support now comes from local businesses, community events such as Vamos Huatulco, and long-time private donors from Mexico, Canada, and the United States. This diversification has strengthened UNA’s financial stability and expanded its ability to meet increasing demand.

Support From Across Borders

Canadian donors may contribute to UNA through Amistad Canada, a registered Canadian charity that partners with vetted nonprofit organizations in Mexico. This partnership ensures transparency and allows Canadians to make tax-deductible donations, further supporting UNA’s long-term sustainability.

Impact With Measurable Results

Each year, more children learn to walk, speak, develop independence, and gain confidence through UNA’s programs. Families receive guidance, emotional support, and the tools needed to help their children reach their full potential. Behind every therapy session is a story of progress—sometimes small, sometimes life-changing, always meaningful.

Looking Ahead

UNA’s goals for the coming years focus on expanding therapy services, strengthening professional staff development, improving equipment and facilities, and ensuring that every family seeking help can receive it. Continued community support—local, national, and international—is essential to achieving these goals.

Un Nuevo Amanecer stands as a testament to what a dedicated community can accomplish. Through ongoing generosity, the children and families of Huatulco can continue to look forward to a future filled with dignity, opportunity, and hope.

Friday, January 16, 2026
Casa Bocana, Huatulco

Artists Lineup:
Emiliano Juárez with Dai Gallo and the WestCoasters

Special Guest: Cat Wells — powerhouse Canadian rhythm, soul, and blues vocalist

Donation: 5,000 pesos per person (goes directly to UNA)

Via Paypal:
http://www.paypal.com/paypalme/unnuevoamanecerhux

or for Canadian donors, receive a CRS receipt via AMISTAD Canada http://www.AmistadCanada.org/donate Select Un Nuevo Amanecer as beneficiary

Your support funds therapy and education for children with disabilities in our community.

Can’t Attend? You Can Still Help:
Sponsor a child: 15,000 pesos provides one full year of therapy and educational support.

Learn more: http://www.facebook.com/huatulcobluesonthebeach

Huatulco

The ALMA experience, chapter 2: Sustainability

Leave a comment

An interview with the creators of ALMA,
Frédéric Baron and Noémie Bourdin-Habert—

In this interview, we continue the conversation with Frédéric Baron and Noémie Bourdin-Habert, the developers behind ALMA, an architectural project in Huatulco that blends design, sustainability, and community. They share what sustainability really means behind the scenes—beyond labels, and beyond marketing.

Where does the sustainability commitment behind ALMA come from?

Noémie: Sustainability is deeply rooted in the genesis of ALMA and closely tied to my own professional background. I spent much of my career working in renewable energy and environmental solutions, so seeking out responsible and ecological approaches has always felt quite natural to me.

I moved from France to China at 23 and began working in the photovoltaic sector. Over the following twelve years, across China, Europe, and California, I met many innovators developing sustainable solutions with real impact.

What fascinates me is how unknown or underestimated many of these solutions still are when it comes to reducing the environmental footprint of both construction and the daily operation of a home. Bringing these cutting-edge innovations to a place like Huatulco feels both meaningful and necessary.

Why choose Huatulco to create and develop ALMA?

Frédéric: Before deciding to live in Mexico, we spent eighteen months traveling extensively throughout Asia. Time and again, we encountered places that were saturated, polluted, or developed without restraint.

We’ve felt despair on beaches covered in plastic, frustration in resorts built in tropical climates with no consideration for shade or natural airflow. We’ve witnessed deforestation for palm oil, untreated sewage flowing into pristine rivers, and absurd contradictions like indoor skiing in the desert. All of this pushed us to look for a place with a genuinely sustainable DNA — not just on paper, but reflected in daily decisions.

When we discovered Huatulco in 2020, along with the long-term federal vision behind its development beginning in the 1980s, it felt different. In many ways, Huatulco was ahead of its time.

And while continued investment in innovation will be necessary for Huatulco to maintain its commitments, we genuinely want to be part of this positive movement.

With so many developments claiming to be sustainable, how do you recognize sustainability in real estate?

Noémie: I spent fifteen years as an international director working in both marketing and sustainability — two fields that, unfortunately, still often share the same budget because sustainability is too frequently treated as part of the storytelling.

In reality, sustainability is much more than that. It is about “meeting the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.” It requires understanding, measuring, reducing, mitigating, and compensating for all of our impact. Solar panels or certifications can help, but they mean very little if a project relies heavily on air conditioning, wastes natural resources, or completely erases native biodiversity.

Some of the most impactful initiatives implemented at ALMA:

1. Low density: ALMA includes 47 properties where FONATUR permits 83, building at just over half the allowed density. This is the most meaningful sustainability decision a developer can make, as it directly impacts profitability.

2. Material reuse: All stone excavated on site is reused for walls and landscaping, avoiding quarry extraction and significantly reducing construction impact.

3. Water management: ALMA built a 300,000-liter potable water cistern, providing greater flexibility for municipal distribution, and treats 100% of the residences’ wastewater on site — even during construction. Treated water is fully reused for irrigation and green roofs. ALMA is the first private residential project in Huatulco to refrain from sending wastewater to the municipal sewage system, and the only one to use treated water for all irrigation, reducing its overall water footprint by 35–40%.

4. Bioclimatic design: Homes are naturally cooled to minimize air-conditioning use — the primary source of energy consumption in high-end residences. Green roofs reduce temperatures by up to 4°C (7°F), wide overhangs provide cooling shade, and cross-ventilation enhances natural airflow. Inverter fan-and-coil air-conditioning systems further reduce energy use by at least 30%.

Many other initiatives coexist as well — from waste management to sustainable material and supplier selection — and we’re always happy to share details.

Does sustainability make a real difference for your clients?

Frédéric: Absolutely. Sustainability translates into very tangible benefits for ALMA residents.

Forever-preserved views: Strict low density and height limits ensure long-term views and tranquility while green roofs of the lower properties benefit higher-line property owners by blending seamlessly into the landscape.

Lower utility costs: Natural cooling strategies and water reuse drastically reduce electricity and water consumption.

Enhanced privacy: Low density and abundant vegetation to ensure greater privacy.

Biodiversity at home: Native vegetation and green roofs attract birds, butterflies, and squirrels year-round.

Resilient value: Well-designed, climate-adapted properties tend to appreciate more over time, much like well-insulated homes in colder regions outperform poorly insulated ones.

Is there a cost to sustainability, and are buyers ready to pay for it?

Noémie: Yes — the cost is actually significant. Green roofs versus conventional roofs, low density versus high density, full water treatment versus standard sewage systems — all of this represents a substantial investment. In reality, sustainability is still often seen by many clients as simply the cherry on the cake.
Now, I can already hear you wonder: “So why do it?”. Actually, for the same reason you choose a reusable bottle over plastic, sort your waste, or bring your own grocery bag—it’s simply the right thing to do.

For our clients. For our legacy. For future generations. For biodiversity, landscapes, resources, and the quality of life that makes Huatulco so special.

ALMA aims to make architecture and sustainability inseparable. It is no coincidence that the project was recently awarded Best Sustainable Project in Mexico, and named Best Sustainable Project in the Americas, from Canada to Argentina, at the International Property Awards — one of the most respected distinctions in the industry.

All of us here found something extraordinary in Huatulco. We believe preserving it is a shared responsibility.

For more information: http://www.alma-huatulco.com

If you’ve missed the first chapter on ALMA, its architecture and finishes, you can scan and catch up here : https://theeyehuatulco.com/2025/11/30/inside-alma-craftsmanship-sustainability-and-signature-design/

Huatulco

Enrique Flores Workshop and Artists of Oaxaca

Leave a comment

By José Palacios y Román—

In the mid-twentieth century, Mexican muralism experienced a turning point. Yet by then, Diego Rivera, José Clemente Orozco, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and Rufino Tamayo had already secured a central place in modern art. Among them, Rufino Tamayo, a native of Oaxaca, stood out not only for his artistic genius but also for his generosity.

In Oaxaca City, Tamayo’s deep commitment to culture lives on in the Museum of Pre-Hispanic Art of Mexico, a carefully curated collection he donated in January 1974. That same year, through the initiative of Roberto Donis, the Rufino Tamayo Workshop of Visual Arts was founded. Tamayo contributed resources to create a space dedicated to the artistic training of young people from rural communities. From its first generation, the workshop became an important reference point for artistic education in Mexico and Latin America. Among those early students was Enrique Flores.

In 1981, Rufino Tamayo and his wife, Olga Tamayo, made another extraordinary gift to the nation: the Tamayo Museum of Contemporary Art in Mexico City. Their collection includes works by many of the great masters of twentieth-century art — Picasso, Miró, Dalí, Bacon, Dubuffet, Calder, Warhol, Vasarely, Magritte, and others. Today, the museum is recognized as one of the finest in the world.

This legacy is closely tied to the ongoing vitality of Oaxacan art. Enrique Flores, painter and educator, has built an extensive career that he combines with the work of the Enrique Flores Cultural Center and Workshop, which he has sustained for over thirty years in San Pablo Huitzo, near Oaxaca City. The workshop has become a vital meeting point for the teaching and exchange of artistic techniques — printmaking, stained glass, ceramics, sculpture, and high-quality editions in engraving.

Now, Copalli Art Gallery in Huatulco is honored to present, in celebration of the 30th anniversary of the Enrique Flores Workshop, a new exhibition featuring recent works by the master. On this occasion, he is joined by ten internationally recognized Oaxacan artists, reflecting the strength and diversity of contemporary art from the region.

The exhibition, “Enrique Flores Workshop and Artists of Oaxaca,” opens on December 21 at 6:30 p.m. and will remain on view until January 18, 2026, at Punta Tangolunda (across from the entrance to the Golf Club). The opening event will feature Chef Eusebio Villalobos and live music.

Huatulco

Reviving Rail: A New Era for Mexico’s Transportation

Leave a comment

By Randy Jackson—

For fifteen years, our annual migration south meant driving the length of Mexico—from Nuevo Laredo to Huatulco. But not anymore. Over time, the toll roads have steadily improved and extended, now reaching all the way to the Oaxacan coast. But as the roads improved, so too did the volume of semi-trucks. What began as an encouraging sign of economic growth, especially in the northern half of Mexico, has become a source of gridlock. The tollways are now truckways—clogged with freight traffic that slows travel and occasionally brings highways to a standstill.

And it’s not just the highways. Urban congestion is becoming unbearable. Try stopping in San Luis Potosí, and you may find yourself mired in a 24/7 rush hour. The operations of global manufacturers like General Motors and BMW largely drive that gridlock. Efficient transportation is vital to economic life, but Mexico’s current road-based system is straining under pressure. For the first time in decades, the country is signalling a shift—from asphalt to steel—investing in rail projects that aim not only to reduce road traffic, but to position rail as a driver of future growth.

MEXICO’S GOLDEN AGE OF RAILWAYS

Mexico’s golden age of rail came under the pre-revolutionary presidency of Porfirio Díaz. When Díaz took office, Mexico had just 670 km of rail; by the end of his term in 1910, that number had jumped to 24,700 km. The building boom was fueled by concessions to foreign investors, a practical but flawed approach that produced inconsistent track gauges and just three nationwide connections. The destruction and disorder of the Mexican Revolution halted progress. Later, foreign-owned railways were nationalized, which helped standardize track width and improve interconnectivity.

Though rail suffered for decades from poor maintenance, corruption, and union strife, it still marked a major step in Mexico’s industrialization. In its early days, rail was up to ten times faster than roads and slashed freight costs by as much as 80%. But under investment, administrative failures, and shifting government priorities gradually relegated rail to a secondary role. Roads took precedence, and the consequences—congestion, emissions, economic bottlenecks—are now coming home to roost.

A DETOUR INTO ASPHALT

In 1995, under President Ernesto Zedillo, Mexican railways were privatized. The national rail system was divided among three major companies that still operate today: Kansas City Southern de México (KCSM) in the northeast, and Ferromex and Ferrosur, both now owned by the conglomerate Grupo México.

Over time, these private operators shut down nearly all passenger services, citing a lack of profitability. For many years, only two tourist trains remained: El Chepe in the Copper Canyon and the José Cuervo Express on the Guadalajara–Tequila line.

That downward trajectory began to reverse under President Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO), who made passenger rail a national priority. His administration launched high-profile projects like the Maya Train and the Interoceanic Corridor and passed reforms requiring private freight lines to support or offer passenger service.

His successor, Claudia Sheinbaum, has pledged to continue this shift—supporting existing projects while proposing new routes. Together, these efforts signal a strategic turn: new rail infrastructure designed to support regional economies, diversify tourism, and ease the country’s dependence on highways.

STEEL AMBITIONS
Mexico’s new rail projects are large-scale passenger projects and freight modernization, aiming to cut road dependency, stimulate tourism, and strengthen industrial corridors.

Tren Maya – This project’s cost has ballooned to $28B USD—a passenger train stretching 1,500 km across five southeastern states. The train is now partially operational, with more sections and stations scheduled to open in the future. It aims to spread tourism away from the Riviera Maya’s concentration, create jobs, and link new economic hubs. However, the project has also been a source of significant controversy due to its environmental and social impacts.

Mexico–Toluca Interurban Train – With costs swelling to nearly $10B USD, this 58-km commuter line connects Toluca with western Mexico City. Well-publicized delays have pushed full operation out to 2026, though partial service began in 2023. The train is designed to ease congestion and reduce emissions. Its escalating costs and long delays, however, have demonstrated the hurdles faced in new infrastructure construction in Mexico.

Mexico City–Pachuca & Querétaro Lines – Two proposed high-speed routes, with the Pachuca line estimated at $2.5B USD and the Querétaro line at $7B USD. Construction began in 2025. They are intended to extend rail northward, linking the capital with fast-growing industrial centers. Strategically, they would strengthen central Mexico’s manufacturing corridor, provide alternatives to crowded highways, and reduce emissions. Political will and financing are key uncertainties for moving these projects forward.

Interoceanic Corridor of the Isthmus of Tehuantepec (CIIT): This is a freight modernization project with a reported cost of over $7 billion USD. It upgrades a 300-km rail line between the ports of Salina Cruz on the Pacific coast and Coatzacoalcos on the Gulf of Mexico. While limited passenger and freight services began in late 2023, the project is still undergoing major expansions, with the full system expected to be completed in 2026. This project is strategically significant as it is meant to create a competitive alternative to the Panama Canal. It also aims to stimulate economic development in one of Mexico’s poorest regions. Besides port expansions, the project’s plans call for new industrial parks along the route to attract investment. As promising as the project is, questions remain about its ability to attract sustained international shipping and investment.
RELIEF IN RAIL? THE VIEW FROM THE DRIVER’S SEAT
After decades of pouring resources into asphalt, the shift back to steel marks a strategic bet on efficiency and economic development. For those of us who have spent long days driving south, boxed in by semis on endless tollways, the return of rail isn’t just policy; it feels like long-overdue relief. Still, with costs climbing and schedules slipping, the success of these projects will depend on sustained political will and the willingness to commit serious resources in the years ahead

Huatulco

María Mayoral: A Lineage in Thread

Leave a comment

By Bianca Corona—

There is a pace to the coast that does not translate in cities. It is slower, but never lazy. It is intentional. The light moves differently here, and the wind carries salt and sound in a way that makes you stop without realizing you have stopped. Even the fabric you wear asks you to release anything heavy and choose something that breathes. When I first sat down with María, this was the feeling that met me before she even spoke. A quiet, grounding presence. Not shy. Just someone whose voice comes from a deeper place, the kind of place most people forget to visit once they leave the coast.

Born in Pochutla, a town 45 minutes from Huatulco, Maria’s family came to the coast decades ago, long before tourism reshaped the shoreline. They arrived to work. Work that demanded patience. Work taught by hands rather than classrooms. Work that held their identity in cotton and color.

“We practically lived in the hotel,” she told me, remembering the Sheraton before it became the Barceló. She described the smell of sunscreen mixing with thread, the sound of tourists moving in and out, the constant presence of sand under her feet. Childhood for her was not divided into playtime and work. It was one space. One long rhythm set by the loom.

Her mother wove. Her father wove. And slowly, María learned too. First watching. Then assisting. Then creating. She began weaving at 12, sewing at 15. Not because someone told her to. But because the rhythm of the loom teaches by itself if you sit close enough. Press, release. Press, release. A heartbeat made audible.

But lineage is rarely a straight line. It bends. It tests. It takes you away from home so you can return with a different perspective. María left the coast to study International Design in Puebla. She wanted to understand fashion in a broader sense. “Where I studied, the approach was very artistic,” she said. “It gave me a wider range of what fashion could be.” She liked that contrast. Traditional weaving in one palm, modern design in the other. She could feel how they might meet without contradicting each other.

After graduating, she tried to stay in the city. Everyone always told her to go big or go home. To prove yourself in a larger place. To move fast. To produce more. She tried to believe it, but her heart disagreed. “I couldn’t keep up with that life,” she said. “I missed breathing.” So, she returned to Huatulco. Back to the coastline. Back to the thread.

I then asked, “What stories would you say are figuratively woven into your pieces?” She shared, the first thing to come to her mind was when her mother began losing her vision. The woman who once guided every stitch, whose presence was the essence of their workspace, slowly entered a world without images. María told this part of the story without dramatizing it. She simply explained how the workshop changed, and how she changed with it. She started weaving differently, adding dimensions that her mother could feel with her fingertips. Texture became language. Color became memory. Craft became closeness. “I changed the way I weave so she could still be part of it,” she said. Her tone held no sadness. Just devotion. A very soft but very steady kind of love.

But life never teaches one lesson at a time. While she was caring, adapting, holding her craft close, another part of her self-development broke. A brand she previously helped build was taken from her. Her designs, her work, her name. “They robbed the brand from me,” she said. And around the same time, projects she depended on slowly unraveled. Her income disappeared. Her confidence wavered. She took a job as a waitress. Long shifts. Late nights. A kind of exhaustion that demands all of you. She worried that maybe she had stepped into a life that would not offer anything beyond survival. Meanwhile her family encouraged her to come back to the workshop and begin her own brand from scratch. She was resistant at first. Pain makes us hesitate. Starting over feels heavier when the loss is still fresh.

She laughs when she talks about this now. Not because it is funny, but because distance gives shape to things. She says it taught her something very clearly. “I realized I couldn’t let go of what I love just because someone else was dishonest or because things did not work out the first time.” So, she returned to the loom. And from that return, her brand took its true name, María Mayoral. Not born from inspiration or timing or trend. Born from refusal. A refusal to shrink. A refusal to disappear.

And now, when she talks about her work, she does not speak like someone trying to sell you something. There is no presentation. She speaks from inside the process itself. “When someone wears my pieces, I want them to feel something. To feel astonished at themselves,” she said. Not astonished as in spectacle. Astonished by the soulful care webbed through the fabric. Astonished as in remembering something ancient in the body. Something warm. Something that feels like home even if you are far from it.

Because here, in Huatulco, clothes are not stiff. The heat demands breath and softness. The ocean demands movement. Cotton is not an aesthetic choice. It is the only fabric that lives well with the climate. Nature decides. The land chooses the material. The coastline decides the palette. Her colors shift with seasons and tides. The marigold dye that blooms today will not bloom the same next year. Rain changes the tone. Soil changes the shade. Emotion changes the hand. Nothing repeats. Not because she refuses repetition, but because the land does not repeat itself.

Her atelier holds eight looms of varying sizes. The sound inside is steady and meditative.

And when you watch a piece being made, you understand instantly why a garment created in this space cannot be compared to anything made in a factory. “The piece that took me the longest took three months,” she said. Three months of touch and patience and presence. Machines can imitate the pattern but not the weight of meaning. Not the warmth. Not the life. Visitors who spend time in the workshop leave with reverence because they see what cannot be massed produced… time.

Her first collection, the one that gave real shape to the brand, was inspired directly by the ocean. Not as metaphor. As literal memory. Textures that mirrored tide lines. Movement that echoed waves. Only six pieces. They sold out in two weeks. It was the beginning that confirmed everything she believed. Her next collection draws from Tangolunda and the memory of the old Camino Real. The coastline there holds a specific glow. The sand is filled with tiny spiral shaped shells. She will bring those spirals into her designs. Not traced. Remembered.

María also collaborates with families of embroiderers in the Valley. Women who carry techniques older than any written history. She respects the knowledge they hold. She asks before using something with ancestral meaning. She learns the symbols. She refuses the imitation culture that has taken root in Oaxaca’s markets. There are stitches she keeps hidden. Marks meant only for the women who will wear her pieces close to their skin. “Something just for them,” she said. A private language made of thread.

When I asked María where she sees the future of her brand, her answer surprised me. Her dream is not global exposure. It is continuity. She wants to create her first runway in Oaxaca and take her mother with her. She wants the community to rise alongside the brand. “First Mexico,” she said. “And when Mexico knows us, then the world.”

This is not a comeback story. It is a return. A realignment. A remembering of who she has always been. Her pieces are not garments. They are memory held in cotton. They are lineage moving forward. They are devotion stitched into form. They are a daughter refusing to let love, or craft, or identity be dimmed.

These pieces are woven time.

Contact for designs WhatsApp: + 52 958 587 8556
Instagram: @mmariamayoral

Photo: Elias Cruz

Huatulco

Continuing My Dream: Empowering the Future of Rural Youth

Leave a comment

By Britt Jarnryd

In rural communities, attending high school requires more than academic effort; it also means long distances, high costs, and emotional challenges that many families simply cannot take on. In response to this reality, the “Continuing My Dream” scholarship was created—an initiative deeply committed to supporting young people with limited resources who want to continue their education but live far from upper-secondary schools.

Currently, 16 students are part of this new program. Each one has received comprehensive support that includes school supplies, footwear—both athletic shoes and formal shoes—and financial assistance to cover enrollment, uniforms, and other essential academic expenses. In addition, they receive a monthly stipend for transportation, food, rent, and basic needs, ensuring that financial limitations do not become an obstacle to their education.

As an essential part of digital learning, every scholarship recipient received an iPad, a tool that allows them to access online libraries, educational platforms, and resources that broaden their study and academic development opportunities.However, the project goes far beyond financial aid.

“Continuing My Dream” includes a network of six mentors- professionals and volunteers who are strongly committed to fostering each student’s personal and academic growth. Through in-person and online sessions, the students participate in workshops on soft skills, leadership, English, math, study habits, and self-awareness, strengthening their confidence, future vision, and life skills.

Join us in transforming lives.Every step we take is possible thanks to those who believe in education as a driver of change. Today more than ever, your support can change the course of a life. Every donation—big or small—becomes a real opportunity for young people who dream of studying and building a better future for themselves and their communities.

We invite you to learn more about this and other projects at Bacaanda.org.

Donate, share, support… and be part of this growing chain of dreams. Together, we can go further.

Huatulco

Wearing My Roots: A Queen’s Journey Through the Vela 27

Leave a comment

By Daira Moreno —

When I reflect on my roots, I picture myself beautifully dressed in Tehuana attire. It brings me back to my ancestors, especially my grandmother. The beauty of these dresses lies not only in their embroidery, but in the way they are passed from one generation to the next. Today, only a few artisans still know how to make Tehuana attire in its traditional form. The Zapotec language, along with the traditional techniques, is at risk of disappearing. Wearing the dress is an act of resistance, a way to keep our identity alive. The reaffirmation of Zapotec identity through the figure of the Queen of the Vela 27, embodied in my own experience of wearing the Tehuana dress, is a form of empowerment for the people of my town, the Ixtepecanos. It is also a way of preserving our culture at a time when many traditions are being lost in an increasingly globalized world.

Ciudad Ixtepec’s cultural identity lives within its traditional attire, the Tehuana dress, and in the fact that only a few artisans continue to make it in the old way. This fragility, of both language and dressmaking, shows how urgent it is to preserve these parts of our heritage. The Tehuana attire has also found its place in the larger story of Mexico. Iconic figures such as Frida Kahlo and Salma Hayek embraced it, drawing inspiration from Isthmus women and, in Hayek’s case, from her own Ixtepecana roots. Lupe Vélez immortalized the style in her film La Sandunga, helping introduce Oaxacan culture to national and international audiences. Many consider the Tehuana costume the most beautiful in Mexico. These cultural references strengthen the idea that Zapotec identity carries a significance that must be protected.

In this piece, I offer a brief reflection on my experience as queen of the Vela 27 and on the meaning of a Vela, with special attention to the clothing I wore throughout the five-day celebration which culminates in the coronation, where I step into the same role my mother and cousin once held, continuing a legacy begun by my grandmother, one of the festival’s founders.

This year, I served as queen of the Renombrada Vela 27, held in honor of San Jerónimo Doctor. It is characterized by dancing throughout the entire night, waiting for dawn to arrive. “Vela” is the name given by the friars to the indigenous festivities dedicated to the deities called “Za” or “Binnizá,” meaning “men of the clouds,” according to the agricultural calendar. With evangelization, these rituals were transformed into patron-saint festivals dedicated to Catholic saints, following the mission and religious order of the friars during the colonial period. The word vela comes from velar, meaning “to stay awake, to keep vigil all night,” which remains at the heart of the celebration today.

One of the most striking parts of the Vela is that all attendees must wear the Tehuana gala dress; otherwise, they are not permitted to enter. Women showcase their finest traditional gala dresses and high heels, each one striving to look as spectacular as possible. Men must wear a plain white guayabera with no floral embroidery.

The use of gold, coins, and ornaments in the festivities has its roots in practices of prestige and offering. In the case of coins, their presence is more recent, linked to the arrival of the Trans-Isthmus Railway and the port of Salina Cruz in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Gold in women’s attire also symbolizes the empowerment of Isthmus women, as well as well-being, economic stability, and even wealth. The use of minted coins changes the meaning significantly, which is why I emphasize empowerment.

Many of the pieces I wore are family heirlooms, and when I put them on, I feel the presence of my grandmother, my mother, and the women in my family who have kept these traditions alive. Each garment reflects the work of artisans whose techniques are at risk of disappearing.

To understand the significance of each day and the meaning behind every outfit, it is helpful to look at the schedule of the Vela 27 and the Tehuana attire I wore throughout the celebration.

The Vela 27 Schedule:
September 26 (evening): The festivities begin with the Calenda (traditional street parade) at 8 p.m., continuing until 2 a.m. The streets of Ixtepec come alive with dancing, fireworks, and music, announcing the start to the Vela 27. That evening, I wore a coordinated skirt and huipil made with the cadenilla technique, featuring pink and yellow greca designs crafted by the artisan Francisco Javier Reyes Vázquez from San Blas Atempa. My hairstyle followed the traditional style of the women of Ixtepec: two braids intertwined with a pink ribbon and adorned with artificial flowers. To complete the muda, I wore a three-strand espejito azucena necklace with a calabaza pendant in pearls and gold filigree, along with matching earrings and a bracelet made from 2.5-peso Mexican coins embellished with rubies and alejandrina.

2nd Day of Activities:
September 27 (morning): The queen’s Mañanitas begin at 7 a.m. and include serenades, prayers, and dancing. The organizers of the Vela attend, making it one of the most beautiful moments of the celebration, filled with emotion as the family prepares for the day. Breakfast is offered at the queen’s home to those who came to serenade her, and gifts are given to the attendees. This festivity also commemorates the birthday of the patron saint, San Jerónimo Doctor. For my muda during the Mañanitas, I wore a circular stylized yellow rabona skirt with a hand-stitched cadenilla huipil. I accessorized with a choker made of hinged coins and matching cross-shaped earrings.

September 27 (evening): The most significant and symbolic day of the Vela 27 gathers about 3,000 people. It begins at 9 p.m. and lasts until 7 a.m. The highlight of the event is the queen’s coronation, which includes her arrival, her first dance, and her speech. Past queens, as well as the queen from the previous year, also make their appearances. After the ceremony, the community spends the rest of the night dancing. On the day of my coronation, I proudly wore an original, hand-embroidered traditional dress crafted by the artisan Antonia Morales Lobo from the town of Santa Rosa de Lima. This community is distinguished by its mastery of the Tehuana gala dress, an art practiced by both its women and men. The making of this outfit was commissioned a year in advance.

The dress is a replica of one of my mother’s gala dresses, which she wore when she served as queen in 1985, although for my version I chose a garden of yellow Castilian roses. The outfit consists of the enagua (skirt) and the huipil (blouse). I also wore a gold fleco made of gusanillos and canelones, a distinctive accessory that sets the queen apart from the general public. My hair was styled in gathered braids with a rosette at the nape of the neck and a floral adornment on the left side, leaving the top free for the crown. The crown and its matching scepter were crafted exclusively for my reign by the master goldsmith Hugo Charo from the town of San Blas Atempa. My Tehuana attire was complemented by a set of gold doblón dos María jewelry and a matching ahogador, along with a bracelet, rings, earrings, and a hair brooch. All of these are family heirlooms in gold, passed down from generation to generation.

September 29: The lively and colorful Regada de Frutas fills the streets with decorated buses carrying the queens or captains, who toss food and gifts to the townspeople. Horses, bulls, and captains in traditional attire parade alongside, accompanied by children’s orchestras playing music from the buses. This day symbolizes giving back to the community.

During the Regada de Frutas, we rode on a float designed to match the colors and floral motifs of the outfit I wore that day. With great pride, I wore a huipil and enagua featuring multicolored orchids. This traditional ensemble from Salinas del Marqués, an agency of the municipality of Salina Cruz, Oaxaca, was crafted by the artisan Francisco Gallegos. The design itself was created by my mother, making it especially meaningful. The technique used for this dress is crochet work with yellow filled stitching. The outfit was completed with a two-strand lazo, a choker (ahogador), earrings, a bracelet, and a ring.

October 1 (noon): A mass is held in honor of the Vela 27’s patron saint, San Jerónimo Doctor. Afterward, the queen and princesses take a long walk accompanied by the music group until they arrive at the lavado de olla, where the founding members and the community await them. To enter the church and offer floral arrangements to San Jerónimo Doctor, I wore a yellow velvet Tehuana dress created with two traditional techniques known as flor en medio. The central floral motif was made using crochet work, while the edges featured geometric stitched patterns. I also wore the traditional gold fleco, and on this occasion the jewelry I used included a doblón necklace and a choker (ahogador) of great sentimental value, as both pieces belong to my mother. This dress was crafted by the artisan Francisco Javier Reyes Vázquez from the town of San Blas Atempa. This Tehuana dress uses an ancient technique that is now being revived, since velvet (terciopelo) is rarely used in contemporary Tehuana dressmaking.

As the final notes of the Vela faded, I realized that this experience was not only a personal honor but a reminder of the responsibility we carry. The Tehuana dresses, the rituals, the music, and the devotion of the community showed me how culture survives through practice, through memory, and through each generation choosing to keep it alive. Serving as queen of the Vela 27 strengthened my belief that our heritage is not something of the past, but a living tradition that continues to shape who we are.

Huatulco, San Miguel de Allende

Four Fashionable Mexican Heads of State

Leave a comment

By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken —

Fashion statements have been made for millennia by the Heads of State in Mexico. Whether in pre- or post-Columbian eras, the most important political Mexican figures have always signaled their relationship with the common people (and sometimes with their gods) with their attire. Here are the fashion statements made by four of the most known.

King Pakal the Great, (aka K’inich Janaab Pakal), who ruled over Palenque from age 12 for 68 years until his death in 683, may be best known for interpretations of engravings on his sarcophagus that led him to be called the Mayan astronaut or time traveler. The engravings show him sporting paraphernalia that looks like space flight equipment. But whether he was human or extraterrestrial, his funeral dress clearly indicates that he was considered more than a mere mortal. Adorned with a king’s ransom of jade, from his death mask to the multiple ear pieces, necklaces, bracelets, and rings, even in death he was an impressive sight. The jade mask is most startling because of the inlay of obsidian “eyes”.

Many engravings of Mayan rulers show them wearing elaborate headdresses. But anthropologist Alyce de Carteret described the primary fashion piece of Mayan rulers: “A bark-paper headband adorned with a diadem of jade or shell was bound to the heads of rulers the day they acceded to the throne.” However, existing clay figures of Pakal show him wearing a bird mask, a headdress of quetzal feathers and a long elaborate gown decorated with necklaces of jade. We can surmise that the gown was made from finely woven cotton, since only the wealthiest Mayans could afford that material.

Montezuma (aka Moctezuma II) was the 9th ruler of the Aztec Empire and was the head of state for eighteen years until his death in 1520. Unlike Pakal whose living attire requires some conjecture, Montezuma was well known to the conquistador Cortez, who arrested him.

He was an impressive fashion figure on first formal meeting. His headdress alone was spectacular and described as including “the green upper tail coverts of the quetzal bird, the turquoise feathers of the cotinga, brown feathers from the squirrel cuckoo, pink feathers from the roseate spoonbill, and small ornaments of gold.” His mantle or cape was completely embroidered in primary colors, and the designs depended on the day, the audience and the ceremony he was attending. He rarely wore the same outfit twice, keeping a small army of embroiderers constantly busy. His outfit was completed with a loincloth and sandals – some of jaguar skin, most with jewels.

For the most solemn occasions, much of the finery was omitted, and Montezuma wore a simple loincloth and a dark cape decorated with skulls. After his arrest, Montezuma was not required to wear today’s orange jump suit but rather continued as a figurehead under Spanish rule and wore his diminishing costumes until he died of his wounds after an uprising of his former subjects.

Empress Carlota (née Princess Charlotte of Belgium) was the one and only empress of Mexico for a very short reign from 1864 to 1867. She and her husband Maximillian were placed on the throne by Napoleon III. Given their very progressive ideas about educating and raising up the Mexican populace, they were quickly deposed and Maximillian was shot.

Although the royal couple’s ideas about ruling Mexico were violently rejected, Carlota’s fashion sense was much more captivating. Given her wish to become the benefactor of “her people,” she began to combine European fashion with the costume of the hoi polloi of Mexico. Although the wide skirts and rich materials were retained, the bodice of her dresses and overskirt resembled the china poblana traditional dresses worn by Mexican women – especially on occasions celebrating Mexican identity. She also adopted the bright primary colors of Mexican dress.

Her rule was short-lived but her incorporation of Mexico’s traditional styles into high fashion has lived on. Many of the high-fashion designers of Mexico today merge traditional embroidery or decorations into ultra-modern designs. Just walk down Avenida Presidente Masaryk in CDMX today, and fashions based on Carlota’s innovations come alive.

Presidente Claudia Sheinbaum The first woman president in Mexico, who took office almost two years ago, is scrutinized for fashion as no president ever before. She uses this attention to benefit women all over Mexico. For ceremonial occasions, in addition to her presidential sash, she often wears replicas of dresses from different regions of the country including the huipil, the china poblana, the Tehuana (from Oaxaca) and the Chiapaneca. The many artisans who create and decorate her dresses are publicly noted and often find themselves swamped with orders from ordinary citizens and beyond.

Of course, given her intense meeting and travel schedule, she also slips into comfortable pants and blouses. But the styles are business-appropriate. And unlike the wives of many heads of state, she avoids expensive designer clothes and instead wears fashions that are affordable for the majority of working Mexicans.

From Pakal to Sheinbaum, the Mexican heads of state have had distinctive styles worn as political statements. Some such as Carlota and Montezuma have had ruinous careers. Some such as Pakal and hopefully Sheinbaum have made positive contributions to lives of their people. All will likely be remembered for what they wore.

Drs. Marcia and Jan Chaiken have been married for 62 years and have published many justice system research reports together.