Tag Archives: oaxaca

Escaping the Heat of the Coast

By Jane Bauer—

May is the worst time of the year on the Oaxacan coast. It is when the land is the driest, the ocean the warmest and it seems as though everyone is waiting for those first drops of rain. While many people come to the Oaxacan coast for the beaches, I am most enthralled by the mountains. Turn around and look behind you. They rise up in majestic tones of purple and blue. When it gets unbearably hot it’s time for a drive into the Sierra Sur, where the temperature drops, the air sharpens, and everything slows down. Within a few hours’ drive from Huatulco, a completely different world unfolds.

The journey itself is part of the ritual. Leaving behind the palms and salt air, the road climbs steadily, curling into the mountains. The vegetation shifts almost imperceptibly at first, dry brush gives way to greener growth, then to dense forest. Windows come down. The air cools. By the time you reach the higher elevations, you’re reaching for a sweater. This is the Sierra Sur: a region defined by altitude, cloud forests, and quiet.

San José del Pacífico: Where the Clouds Settle
Perched along the mountain highway, San José del Pacífico has built a reputation as Oaxaca’s most atmospheric escape. Known for its drifting clouds and panoramic views, the town often disappears into mist by afternoon, only to reveal dramatic sunsets hours later. It is also famed for the hallucinogenic mushrooms that grow there.

One of the highlights is that many cabins come with a chimenea, a fireplace, which keeps you warm and cozy. The pace is unhurried, slow, chilly mornings—listening for birds, watching steam rise from your café de olla. Travelers come for the cool weather, but they stay for the feeling of introspection and awe that the environment inspires. Whether sitting on a balcony wrapped in a blanket or watching the clouds roll through the valley.

San Mateo Río Hondo: The Quiet Alternative
A short drive, or an hour’s hike, from San Jose, lies San Mateo Río Hondo, a lesser-known but equally compelling destination. Down in the valley this town has some great hiking. Dirt roads, community life, and long forest walks define the rhythm. The smell of pine trees and woodsmoke. With fewer visitors, Río Hondo offers something increasingly rare: space to be alone with the landscape.

Pluma Hidalgo: Coffee in the Clouds
Just an hour from Huatulco, Pluma Hidalgo offers another kind of escape, one rooted in agriculture and tradition. This region is synonymous with high-quality coffee, grown under the shade of forest canopy and nourished by the same cool, misty climate that defines the Sierra. Visiting Pluma Hidalgo is a chance to see the slower cycles of rural life: coffee drying in the sun, families tending to their land, and a deep connection to place that feels unchanged by time. The air here carries the faint scent of earth and roasted beans, a sensory shift from the salt and sunscreen of the coast.

A Different Kind of Luxury
What ties these places together is not just the temperature, but the contrast. In a matter of hours, you move from heat to cool, from open beaches to enclosed forests, from movement to stillness. There are no beach clubs here, no urgency to fill the day. Instead, the luxury is found in simple things: a hot drink in cold air, a quiet night wrapped in fog, the sound of wind through pine trees. It’s the kind of reset that doesn’t announce itself loudly, but lingers long after you’ve returned to sea level.

For those living or visiting the Oaxacan coast, this mountain escape isn’t just a trip. It’s a seasonal rhythm. When the heat builds, you go up.

Jane Bauer is the editor of The Eye and a chef. You can follow her on Instagram @livingfoodmexico

A Team Transforming Rural Education with Technology, Commitment, and Heart

By Britt Jarnryd—

The Bacaanda Foundation, through its Escuela Rural Inteligente program, has developed an innovative educational model driven above all by its team. This extraordinary group of professionals, guided by vocation, consistency, and a deep sense of social responsibility, is transforming the educational experience.

The team is made up of six educational coaches, a technology engineer, and a project director, all working in close coordination to directly support teachers and students. In addition to conducting in-person visits to schools for 3 to 5 days each month, the team provides daily online support—guiding teachers in lesson planning, the design of teaching and learning strategies, and the effective use of educational technology.

During these visits, the coaches monitor, advise, and train teachers in the use of internet resources, smart screens, iPads, and educational apps, integrating them into Spanish and Mathematics curricula at the preschool, primary, and secondary levels. This hybrid model—combining in-person and virtual support—allows for continuous, timely, and personalized attention.

The role of the engineer is equally essential, overseeing the proper functioning of equipment, ensuring the effective use of technological tools, and providing timely technical solutions to prevent interruptions in the learning process.

Complementing this work, the project director coordinates efforts, ensures follow-up, and maintains the quality of implementation across the 53 rural schools currently served, guaranteeing consistency, efficiency, and alignment with the foundation’s educational goals.

In addition, the team maintains an active presence within the communities—observing and modeling classroom practices during school hours, and offering training sessions for teachers and parents in the afternoons. This close engagement strengthens trust, local commitment, and the long-term sustainability of the program.

Thanks to this consistent, hands-on and online support, the results have been clear: reduced gaps in literacy, steady improvements in mathematics, and significant progress in digital skills. The Escuela Rural Inteligente team has become a powerful example of how human guidance, combined with technology, can transform educational realities in rural settings.

Beat the Heat in Mexico

By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken

Here for business or pleasure? At the beach or in the city or in the mountains? The good news is: wherever you are in Mexico the temperature can climb pleasantly high. The bad news is: as the temperature climbs high so can yours. Rapidly rising body temperature can result in heat exhaustion or worse. So here are a few tips for creating a pleasurable stay in Mexico instead of a medical emergency.

Stay hydrated. Realize that while you’ve been dreaming of margaritas and cervezas, water is the key to hydration – not alcohol. Experiment and experience the many different kinds of flavored waters available in Mexico. Some of the favorites of local residents and long-time tourists are water spiked with tamarind juice, hibiscus flower (agua de jamaica), and cucumber (agua de pepino). We order our favorites in jarras (pitchers) and down the whole jarra during a meal for two.

Stay out of the sun. We wince when we see bone-white tourists laying prone in the sun on loungers around pools. Even with a high SPF suntan lotion, they are literally cooking themselves to dizziness and nausea. Exercise caution – even in the shade; the sun reflects off surrounding surfaces, especially water, and can cause roasting under that umbrella or palapa.

Plan your outdoor activities for the early morning and late afternoon. One of our granddaughters recently joined us in Huatulco for a week of rest and recreation with a bunch of friends whom she had met in med school. The young docs knew the nitty-gritty details of the havoc that heat can play on human metabolism. They rose early and went to the beach, beating the crowds and high temperatures. When the sun was rising high, they left the beach for indoor activities in air conditioned places. As the sun lowered enough to cast deep shadows, they brought their books and smart phones to the shade near a pool and took a plunge whenever the body temperature warranted a cooling. Evenings after dinner were their prime times for walks and other outdoor explorations. They pretty much held to the same schedule in city environments, touring in the morning and late afternoon and enjoying air conditioned museums midday.

Take cold showers. Even if you enjoy soaking in or spraying yourself with warm to hot water, before you towel off, stand under a shower that is as cold as the water gets. It’s the fastest way to bring down your body temperature. Returning from the beach or sweaty activities, a cold shower is not only enjoyable but necessary.

Dress to stay cool. The song might say “no shoes, no shirt, no problems,” but the absence of a shirt on tourists parading down city streets is a cringeworthy moment. Not only is it gauche but it increases the chances of overheating. Slip on a light-weight loose shirt, especially one with material designed to reflect sun. Lightly covered with room for air to circulate is acceptable in beach communities. In cities and the mountains, opt for several layers. Peel them off as the temperature rises during the day and replace them as the sun and temperature go down.

Siesta, siesta, siesta. Mexico is famous for its fiesta opportunities. But note that local fiestas typically begin around sunset. Midday is set aside for a long indoor snooze. You might try imitating the national pattern of having your largest meal (comida) in the early afternoon; the reason many stores and museums are closed midday is because the staff are enjoying comida during the hottest hours. Then as many local residents do, take a nap or at least rest while you digest. You’ll find that afterwards your body temperature will be normal and you’ll be raring to go.

Long-stay acclimatization. Many of us longer-stay Mexico visitors get used to the heat. It’s not psychological – it’s physiological. Our circulatory systems including our hearts adjust to keeping us cooler in hot weather. But it normally takes a week or more for our bodies to adapt – longer as we grow older – so we follow our own advice that we’ve given you during that period. We continue to follow it after acclimatization except that we don’t use air-conditioning. As soon as we arrive in Huatulco, we open windows and turn on all ceiling fans in our condo, leaving them on until we depart for the US. The fans and the sea breezes eventually replace the need for A/C.

Watch those babies! We love to see the babies and toddlers from north of the border in their floaties in pools and being wheeled about city streets. But please realize that their little circulatory systems take much longer than adults’ to adjust to heat at beaches and midday high temperatures in cities and mountains. When we hear the little ones wailing with discomfort, our hearts go out in hope that their parents are keeping them indoors and cool midday and providing bottles of water and cooling them off with baths and wet cloths.

Mexico’s weather is wonderful for visitors. It’s one reason tourists head south during below-freezing months in the U.S., Canada and Europe. But wonder can rapidly turn into woe – unless you beat the heat.

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

Cine Pobre: Where Film Isn’t About Budget

By Alicia Flores—

“Film becomes art only when its materials are as inexpensive as pencil and paper.”

The Cine Pobre Film Festival is heading into its 24th edition. At a time when most film production is tied to large budgets and industry backing, Cine Pobre focuses on something much simpler: films made independently, often with very limited resources, by people who choose to make them anyway.

The festival started in 2002 in La Paz, Baja California Sur, and relocated to Oaxaca in 2023. Over the years, it has built a network of filmmakers working outside traditional systems—people funding their own projects, working without strict formats, and often using whatever equipment they have access to.

The result isn’t a specific “look” or genre. Some films are polished, others are rough. What they share is a sense of intention. These are projects that exist because someone was determined to make them, not because they fit a market.

Working Without a Safety Net
There’s no romanticizing the limitations here—working without funding is difficult. But it does change how films are made. Smaller crews, fewer locations, simpler setups. Decisions tend to be practical, and that often leads to a more direct kind of storytelling.

Cine Pobre leans into that reality. It doesn’t try to imitate big-budget production. It presents films on their own terms, without comparing them to industry standards they were never meant to meet.

Beyond the Festival Circuit
The group behind Cine Pobre isn’t only organizing screenings. Over time, they’ve also produced and distributed independent films across Latin America, staying close to the kind of work they promote.

In 2024, they opened a small screening space in Oaxaca’s cloud forest, at about 2,400 meters above sea level. It’s not a commercial cinema—it’s a modest venue meant for small audiences, discussions, and ongoing programming.

That shift matters. Cine Pobre isn’t just an annual event anymore; it’s becoming a year-round presence.

Taking Film to Places Without It
One of the more interesting parts of the project is its outreach into rural communities. In many cases, these are places where people haven’t had much access to cinema, either as viewers or as creators.

The approach is straightforward: bring screenings, and encourage people to document their own lives. No expensive equipment required—a phone is enough.

In that setting, film becomes less about consumption and more about record-keeping, storytelling, and identity.

Cine Pobre doesn’t operate like a typical festival. There’s no focus on awards or competition. The selected films—often referred to as “the best self-funded films in the world”—are screened for their cultural value rather than ranked against each other.

The audience is just as important as the filmmakers. Screenings often take place in environments where people aren’t used to going to the movies, which changes the dynamic entirely.

The 2026 Edition
For its 24th edition, Cine Pobre will continue expanding in Oaxaca, including screenings in rancherías in the municipality of San Mateo Río Hondo.

These events are designed to be accessible—open-air or small-scale gatherings where people can watch films, ask questions, and spend time together. It’s less about a formal festival experience and more about creating a shared one.

The official selection will be announced on April 26 through the festival’s online platforms.

More than anything, Cine Pobre is a reminder that filmmaking doesn’t need to be complicated. It can start with whatever is available—and that’s often enough.

The festival is May 8th-10th, 2026 in San Mateo Rio Hondo.

More info:
https://www.cinepobre.com
Instagram:@cinepobre
WhatsApp for screenings: +52 951 148 6408

Editor’s Letter

By Jane Bauer—

In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life—no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground—my head bathed in the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space—all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing. I see all. The currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature 1836

The month of May for me is always a time when I am changing gears. From October to April I work long hours, juggle many tasks and all the while try to move through the world with a smile.

As the busy season winds down in April and the temperature on the coast rises, my heartbeat softens, my muscles relax, and I come back into myself. I remember that there is no reason to rush. But who am I when I am not producing, organizing and planning? There is a meditation I like to do where I sit and close my eyes, I allow my mind to focus on my breath and then I imagine myself at younger stages of life. I sit like I did when I was 4 or 8 or 16. What is the essence of me? What is the essence of each of us when we strip away our tasks and obligations?

In May I get to enjoy leisurely mornings, long swims in the ocean or walks by the river with my dogs. With this slowing down I get to sit and contemplate my life’s purpose. Everything in nature exists in a symbiotic relationship with everything else: tree roots intertwine with fungi in the soil, nourishing flowers that feed bees, which pollinate fruit that sustains animals—and so the cycle continues. I recently read that nut producing trees don’t produce each year. In the years when there is an overpopulation of creatures that live on nuts, nuts will not produce and the population will be culled. How do the trees know? As a species do we trust in those cycles or are we pushing against them?

It is a cop-out to think our life’s purpose is amassing more stuff; homes, cars, financial security. While those things bring comfort do they really represent our purpose? I look at the tree outside my window; a large guanacaste. The sunlight flickers through its branches, a squirrel runs along a branch, a chachalaca hoots good morning, a magpie jay and a grackle screech at each other.

For me immersion in nature is as close as I feel to my life’s purpose. To just be and feel my soul as a part of something larger. Humans do not have dominion over nature, it has dominion over us and the sooner we accept that, we can stop struggling, let go, and enjoy it’s beauty.

Happy Summer,

Jane

 

Mexican Photographer Citlali Fabián Wins Sony World Photography Awards’ Top Honor

Mexican photographer Citlali Fabián has been named Photographer of the Year at the prestigious Sony World Photography Awards, one of the most important global platforms celebrating contemporary photography.

Originally from Oaxaca, Fabián’s work is deeply rooted in identity, memory, and representation. Her winning series centers on Indigenous women and communities, offering an intimate and carefully constructed perspective that challenges conventional narratives. Through a blend of portraiture and conceptual storytelling, she highlights both personal and collective histories, bringing visibility to voices that are often overlooked.

The Sony World Photography Awards, organized annually by the World Photography Organisation, attracts thousands of submissions from photographers across the globe. Being named Photographer of the Year places Fabián among an elite group of image-makers shaping the direction of contemporary photography today.

Fabián’s recognition marks a significant moment not only for her career but also for Mexican photography on the international stage. Her work continues to bridge tradition and modernity, drawing from her Oaxacan roots while engaging in a global artistic dialogue. The award includes international exhibition opportunities and further cements Fabián’s place as a leading voice in visual storytelling.

http://www.citlalifabian.com

Yuyé Hernández, a Resilient Afro-Mexican Artist Standing Tall Even When Life Knocks You Down

By José Palacios y Román—

Adversity can test a person’s life and shape their path toward transcendence. Some individuals become true champions through that struggle. The state of Oaxaca ranks third in extreme poverty in Mexico. One of its regions is the Costa Chica, home to some two hundred thousand African descendants whose historical presence dates back to the 16th century and beyond.

Yuyé Hernández (Santa Obdulia Hernández Nicolás) is an Afro-Mexican woman born in 1980 in El Tamal, in the municipality of Santiago Pinotepa Nacional. At the time, it was a marginalized and largely forgotten community.

Despite humble beginnings, Yuyé developed a strong character and a deep commitment to her community. Today she is recognized in many roles: as an artist, a defender of her cultural roots, an advocate against abuses of power, a public speaker and lecturer, a national voice on gender equality, and more recently, a councilwoman responsible for culture and finance.

In the mid-1980s, a Catholic priest from Trinidad and Tobago, Father Glyn Jemmot, began promoting visibility and recognition for the Afro-Oaxacan community. Years later, in 1992, the Cimarrón Cultural Center was established.

It was there that Yuyé began her artistic journey, learning to draw and paint using her feet. Yuyé was born without arms. Through her involvement with the center and her relationship with Father Jemmot, she developed a strong sense of leadership and pride in her community and her Afro-Mexican identity.

Beyond her social and political work, Yuyé is a graduate in visual arts from the Benito Juárez Autonomous University of Oaxaca. Her principal mentor was the renowned Japanese master Shinzaburo Takeda, one of the most influential figures in Oaxacan contemporary art.

Following her creative impulses, Yuyé has participated in more than fifty exhibitions, where she has earned admiration not only for the creativity and quality of her work but also for the determination behind it. Without upper limbs, she paints with her feet, transforming what many might see as a limitation into a powerful artistic tool.

Her artistic production is rich in color, expressive brushstrokes, and recurring themes that explore the relationship between women and nature. Looking back at her work over the past decade, one can see increasing maturity, confidence, and interpretive strength in the subjects she chooses to portray.

Her paintings convey harmony, candor, and touches of naïveté, creating a romantic connection with the viewer.

Finally, it is impossible not to recall the example of one of Oaxaca’s most enduring figures: Benito Juárez. A Zapotec indigenous man born in poverty, orphaned at a young age, and raised without speaking Spanish, Juárez rose to become President of Mexico and successfully resisted the most powerful armies of his time.
His story reminds us that resilience is a form of strength.
Yuyé Hernández embodies that same resilience—standing tall even when life knocks you down.

Copalli Art Gallery, committed to promoting new talent from the Oaxacan coast, proudly welcomes Yuyé Hernández as part of its collection of emerging artists.

The gallery is located in Tangolunda and is open daily from 10:00 am to 7:00 pm. All are welcome.

Between Names: Yásnaya Aguilar on Being Mixe and the ‘Latino’ Moment

By Estefanía Camacho—

Latin American pride is rooted in a colonial and undeniably hierarchical category. This is how ayuujk (mixe) writer, linguist, and activist Yásnaya Elena Aguilar Gil (1981) described it in an interview during the San Miguel Writers’ Conference & Literary Festival in February 2026.

“If we were to arbitrarily mark the history of our peoples with the domestication of maize 10,000 years ago, we would have spent 10,000 years being Zapotec, Mixe, or Nahua, and of those 10,000 years, 500 as Indians and 200 as Indigenous. So where does ‘Latino’ come from?” questions Yásnaya, with her long, straight black hair, wearing black-framed glasses with a small cat-ear-like detail at the top.

She explains that “Latino” is a label that originated in France in the 19th century, coined to distinguish between two types of colonization in this part of the continent: Anglo-Saxon America and Latin America.

“’Latina’ has to do with the fact that we were oppressed (…) it is a category produced by a colonialist process. Therefore, there are peoples who have not been fully Latinized,” she explains, referring to the different Indigenous populations across the territory, who continue to keep languages alive outside Spanish and their own roots.

“Latino” in Spanish—not to be confused with how it is used in the United States—is a category that has not only regained relevance but has also gained strength in response to racist actions, especially in that country, primarily against Spanish-speaking migrants or racially profiled Americans.

Yásnaya, translator too, also understands the nuance of “Latino” as a “weapon of resistance,” but she asks that it should not be used as a folklorizing essentialization of something that comes from a violent process such as colonization, and that it remains as an external label.

The category of “Latino” and that of “Indigenous”
Yásnaya says that when she travels to other regions, she is invariably categorized as Latina, regardless of the fact that she is ayuujk and—if anything—identifies as Indigenous.

“In Europe I was Mexican, in Mexico I am Oaxacan, in Oaxaca I am Mixe, in the sierra I am usually from Ayutla. At some point I am Indigenous, but that was something I was told or intuited through contrast before the name even arrived. During an extraterrestrial attack, I will surely be an Earthling, and I will be so with passion,” she wrote in her first book “Ää: manifiestos sobre la diversidad lingüística” (Almadía, 2023).

She has frequently pointed out in her research and columns that patriarchal, colonial, and capitalist systems seek to turn “the other” as a mechanism into a homogeneous, monolithic entity in order to oppress them.

Just as with the category “Latina,” the same happens in Mexico when the category “Indigenous” is adopted as a whole, without mentioning the 68 Indigenous peoples who live in the country, including Afro-Mexicans, who represent at least 10% of the total population.
“Indigenous is a category created by a system of oppression; it is not an essence of our peoples. It is a political moment in our history. We were not always Indigenous,” Yásnaya said. “In the end, in the future, hopefully we can be Mixe without being Indigenous. Because that has already happened. That would mean there is no longer oppression,” the writer proposes.

She explained during her keynote lecture at the literary conference that in Mexico there are 11 Indo-American language families within the 68 groupings of languages, and these in turn belong to 365 distinct linguistic systems, according to the National Catalog of Indigenous Languages. “What generalization can be made about such diversity? None. What exists is a diversity of traditions and poetic mechanisms,” she added.

Now everyone wants to be Latino?
“Now everyone wants to be Latino, but they lack flavor,” sang the world’s most famous musician, Bad Bunny, in his song “El Apagón” during the halftime show of the 2026 Super Bowl.

The surge in pride around the “Latino” category was especially visible during this event in the United States, but it was also observed across much of the world. The Puerto Rican singer went on a global tour in 2025, although he skipped performing in the US out of concern that anti-immigrant raids could be organized at his concerts. The Super Bowl was the only performance he gave there, and the performance was loaded with symbolism, alluding to an independent Puerto Rico and America as a continent and not merely as the “country.”

However, Yásnaya questioned the emotional weight and sense of pride attached to the label “latino” in the days following the event: “That America that continues to resist the effects of colonization is not even America; it is Abya Yala,” she wrote a few days after the Super Bowl in her El País column titled “¿América Latina o América latinizada?. Xëëmo’oy”

There is still resistance to European colonization from the territory, just as there is today from communities resisting other processes driven by contemporary imperialism.

Spanish, its defense, and shifting contexts
In a context where speaking Spanish can be a risk in a country like the United States, or where it was fiercely defended once it was announced that Bad Bunny would headline the Super Bowl halftime show, Yásnaya explains that it is not a hegemonic language.
“I had always seen Spanish as an enemy because it is erasing my language, right? The first time I went to Los Angeles and spoke with migrant communities, I realized that their experiences were the same as mine in school and with discrimination. So Spanish is not always hegemonic; in reality, we cannot see it only as English versus Spanish and Spanish versus Indigenous languages. There are many layers of complexity,” she said.

During the interview, she also mentioned that as a linguist, she is aware that due to structural asymmetry, she cannot have something as basic as a Mixe dictionary. “Something that is so basic for another language,” she says, “you can go to a bookstore and buy books in Spanish and buy a dictionary where the words are in Spanish and the definitions are also in Spanish. I cannot have a dictionary in Mixe where the definitions are in Mixe. At best, they are bilingual.”
However, she does not see it as far off that a Mixe dictionary with definitions in Mixe could exist.

Defending diversity and multidiversity
“In short, I would not have learned about myself, about what I speak of, through the lens, the eyes, the language of others,” she also wrote in her 2023 book.

Yásnaya has been an activist for linguistic rights, Indigenous autonomy, and the revitalization of indigenous languages, while also consistently advocating against climate change and for the defense of land and resources.

She also writes about celebrating otherness and plurality, as she believes that at this moment in history there are too many “ideological political monocultures” threatening the world, as she warned during the conference.

“Let us remember that monolingual utopias, or futures designed in a monolingual way, are characteristic of the far right.”

Estefanía Camacho is a freelance Mexican journalist working across media and digital magazines. She is a specialist in gender, SMEs, economics, and business.