Tag Archives: tourism
Huatulco’s Next Wave: Adapting to Mexico’s Changing Tourism Priorities
By Randy Jackson
Each year, when we arrive at La Bocana for the first time, boogieboards tucked under one arm, we stop to see how the forces of nature have reshaped the beach since our last visit six months earlier. The sand is never the same; sometimes subtly shifted, sometimes dramatically reformed. But we always adapt. We watch the waves, find the rhythm, and surf. Huatulco, too, is shaped by forces of change, not only hurricanes and earthquakes but shifts in national policy and priorities. These changes may not be as visible as a redrawn shoreline, but they carry consequences just the same.
A New Presidency, Old Currents
This year, Mexico marks the first anniversary of President Claudia Sheinbaum’s term. She has been celebrated for breaking gender barriers and bringing a more academic tone to politics. But for resorts like Huatulco, the most significant shifts began earlier. The rethinking of tourism as an economic driver, along with the changes implemented by agencies like FONATUR, took root under the administration of former President Andrés Manuel López Obrador. So far, Sheinbaum appears poised to follow those policies.
The Fourth Transformation
To understand how Huatulco fits into this national realignment, it’s helpful to revisit what AMLO called the Fourth Transformation, his sweeping effort to redefine Mexico’s relationship with markets, foreign investment, and development itself. Drawing on three foundational periods in Mexican history—independence from Spain, the 19th-century Reform movement, and the Mexican Revolution—AMLO positioned his administration as the next great change. AMLO’s Fourth Transformation (4T) marked a departure from decades of neoliberal policies, aiming to reclaim national sovereignty and redistribute power away from economic elites, allowing the state to play a more active role in development.
Whether the 4T will live up to its historical billing remains to be seen. Still, President Sheinbaum has made her stance clear: “We are going to deepen the transformation, not reverse it.” For Huatulco, like other destinations born under FONATUR’s original vision, the Bob Dylan refrain still applies: The times, they are a-changin’.
FONATUR’s Rise and Retreat
Mexico continues to invest heavily in economic development, but large-scale, master-planned tourist resorts are no longer the centrepiece. When FONATUR was created in the 1970s, its mission was to plan, finance, and build integrated tourism destinations in remote coastal areas. The federal government would install airports, roads, water systems, and other infrastructure, setting the stage for private investors to bring hotels, restaurants, and jobs. The result was supposed to be a trickle-down boost for nearby communities.
In the 1980s, FONATUR transformed a string of untouched bays along Oaxaca’s coast into the resort of Huatulco. For some time, the concept seemed viable. But like the beachgoers adjusting to new surf, FONATUR found itself navigating shifting economic currents. The global tourism market for beach resorts became crowded, and other destinations, such as Caribbean all-inclusive resorts, and even competing FONATUR projects like Cancún and Los Cabos, offered cheaper and easier alternatives to Huatulco.
From Resorts to Railways
Still, the lesson took some time to sink in. FONATUR continued launching new mega-projects, such as Loreto in Baja California. In 2007, Loreto briefly topped destination real estate sales charts. However, the 2008 global financial crisis and subsequent U.S. recession halted the momentum. Investors paused. Projects stalled. And gradually, Mexico’s tourism strategy began to shift.
Under President Peña Nieto (2012–2018), a sector-wide review led to a curtailment of FONATUR’s expansion. Funding to destinations like Huatulco focused more on infrastructure maintenance than growth. Then came AMLO, who dramatically reoriented the agency. FONATUR’s traditional role in resort development and maintenance was significantly reduced. Resources were redirected to the Maya Train, a controversial infrastructure project billed as a tourism initiative, although it is perhaps better understood as a regional economic development initiative. President Sheinbaum has embraced and extended this strategy, most recently announcing the Maya Train’s expansion into Guatemala.
For Huatulco, this confirms what many already sensed: the national spotlight has moved elsewhere. The cartoon image below may exaggerate the moment, but the message is real: while some of us wave tourists into the surf, a much larger wave of policy, budget, and priorities is cresting behind us.
Still, FONATUR isn’t gone. It remains a significant landholder in Huatulco, controlling the unsold parcels from its original 1984 expropriation. The question is whether it can be repurposed as a steward, rather than a builder, which is less about launching new resorts and more about maintaining what already exists.
A New Kind of Partnership?
A new pivot might align well with Sheinbaum’s emphasis on sustainability. For Huatulco to ride the next wave, a new kind of partnership is needed —one that brings together FONATUR, the state of Oaxaca, and local stakeholders at the same table. A coordinated strategy could target essential needs, such as water and sewage infrastructure. Revenues from FONATUR’s Huatulco land sales, combined with FIDELO’s operational expertise and input from local businesses, could support a development plan that is realistic, sustainable, and tailored to the region’s needs.
Surfing Ahead
Whatever form it takes, the priority must be to protect what sustains Huatulco’s economy while preserving the natural beauty that draws people here in the first place. If successful, it could offer a model for other FONATUR-born resorts navigating similar transitions.
As President Sheinbaum completes her first year in office, balancing domestic pressures and global uncertainties, this type of pragmatic regional initiative could represent a meaningful path forward. The wave of change is real, and while Huatulco may seem like a small fish in Mexico’s broader political sea, it is of significant importance to us Huatulcoites. And as the surfers at La Bocana know, timing and effort often make the difference between riding the wave and being pulled under.
Papaloapan: The River and Region of Butterflies
By Deborah Van Hoewyk
In 1518, Juan de Grijalva (c. 1480-1527, killed by natives in Honduras) left Cuba with four ships and 200 men to explore the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. Although his uncle, conquistador Diego Velásquez, was angry that Grijalva built no settlements (actually, Grijalva’s instructions were not to do so), the mapping and reports from Grijalva’s expedition laid the groundwork for Hernán Cortés to settle the coast and move inland to conquer Mexico.
Along the coast of what is now Veracruz, Grijalva encountered a meandering, slow-moving river, naming it Río de Alvarado (River of Whiteness), now known as Río Papaloapan (Papaloapan comes from the Nahuatl papálotl, “the river of butterflies”). The Papaloapan Region of Oaxaca runs across Oaxaca’s northeastern border with Veracruz; the river crosses the foothills of the Sierra Norte and descends to the coastal plain, through Veracruz, and out to the Gulf of Mexico.
The headwaters of the Papaloapan arise in the Salado River near Tehuacán, in Puebla, and then join with the Tomillín River in Oaxaca. It takes the name Papaloapan near San Juan Bautista Valle Nacional, about 170 km (±106 miles) northeast of Oaxaca City. The Papaloapan River Basin, second only in size to the Rio Grande basin, covers over 15,000 square miles and portions of the states of Veracruz, Oaxaca, and a bit of Puebla.
The First Settlers
As the river slowed and broadened, it formed fertile levees that were attractive to settlement; the Olmecs, among the earliest (1200-400 BCE) Mexican groups to leave traces of their civilization, lived throughout the basin in Veracruz and somewhat into Oaxaca. There is ample evidence of trade between the Olmecs of this area and the Aztecs, in this case the Zapotecs, of Monte Alban.
In fact, the Aztecs gave the Olmecs their name, which means “the rubber people,” named for the gum rubber the Olmecs traded throughout southeastern Mexico. Rubber trees grew in abundance in the Papaloapan basin, and the Olmecs figured out how to convert the latex sap of the tree into a substance that could be cured, shaped, and hardened. What the Olmecs called themselves is not known – their literacy included only a small collection of glyphs, considered the earliest form of writing in the New World; most Olmec communication, however, was oral, and lost forever when their civilization collapsed.
The Olmecs began to disappear around 400 BCE; the cause is unknown, but archeologists have generally credited environmental change with damaging the resources needed for survival. It is thought that the river and its tributaries began to silt up so badly the water supply was cut off. Another theory is that increased volcanic activity in this time (Popocatépetel erupted almost constantly from 800-215 BCE) coated the earth with ashy mudflows, making it unsuitable for cultivation.
On to Modernity
Because of annual flooding, and the masses of mosquitoes it brought, the Papaloapan Region was not a popular place to settle. The Spanish conquistadors mostly passed through the area en route to better pickings – saliently, gold – in Tenochitlán (Mexico City). Eventually, the colonialists took over Tuxtepec, renaming it of course, as San Juan Bautista Tuxtepec, in 1811. After the War of Independence (1810-21), it became the head town of its own municipality in 1825; it is now the second largest city in Oaxaca, after the capital Oaxaca de Juárez, with a population just under 500,000.
Until the mid-20th century, the region languished. Flooding had become more severe, largely because of upland deforestation; in 1944, a terrible flood wiped out over a hundred people living in small villages or out on ranches. Shortly thereafter, Miguel Alemán, the first “civilian” Mexican president after the post-revolutionary chain of generals, and a native of the area, established Mexico’s first river basin commission. The Comisión del Papaloapan, formed in 1947, was in charge of everything from water (building dams, generating hydroelectricity, clearing swamps, etc.) to other infrastructure (building roads and towns) to social services. Signal achievements were two large dams, the Miguel Alemán dam (1954) and the Cerro de Oro (Hill of Gold) dam (early 1980s), which sharply reduced the threat of flooding, increased hydroelectric generation, and provided water via reservoirs.
This set the stage for economic development of the Papaloapan region; Victor Bravo Ahuja, governor of Oaxaca from 1968 to 1970, emphasized “modernization” of the region (he came from Tuxtepec). Bravo promoted new practices in agriculture and laid the groundwork for commercial and industrial development.
Visiting Papaloapan
This is not Mexico City, full of high culture and amazing food, nor is it the state of Oaxaca, replete with natural wonders. We have been to San Juan Bautista Tuxtepec, as it was rumored to have a wonderful Christmas celebration. It probably was great, but it happened the day before we got there, and it must have used up all the electricity, because we were on the 6th floor of a hotel with no power, no elevator. We climbed down and wandered about in the colonial part of the city, very nice, not very special.
The turismo bureau of Tuxtepec recommends the river, of course, but mostly its tributaries. The industrialization of the region has been so effective that the Papaloapan itself is heavily polluted – you are advised not to expose any part of your body to the water. If you are in Tuxtepec, you can walk across the Papaloapan on a suspension bridge that goes off the Muro Boulevard, or you can take a boat from the Paso Real Pier, in the heart of downtown.
The region does, however, boast special experiences. The rivers that run into the Valle Nacional River before it reaches the Papaloapan are crystal clear. There are spas on rivers that flow through lush tropical forests (the Zuzul, Los Cocos, Piedra Quemada, and Los Sauces rivers). Ecotourism is primary in the area, with hiking through the mountains, horseback riding through the jungles, exploring caves, and kayaking streams and lagoons are all available.
While there are indigenous groups in the Region (Mixtecs, Zapotecs, Chinantecs, Mazatecs), their presence is not prominent – with one exception. In San Mateo Yetla, just south of Valle Nacional, on Route 175 heading southwest towards Oaxaca, the Chinantec women specialize in embroidery. Led by Doña Carmen Vásquez Pérez, the embroiderers are working to preserve traditional needlework techniques and patterns. San Mateo Yetla is in a beautiful mountain setting; there is an ecotourism office in the town center that can advise you about jungle hiking, hikes to waterfalls, etc.
The Pineapple Dance – A Turismo Creation
Given the impact of the Papaloapan river and its connection with Veracruz, the region has always tended to see itself as a Jarocho (Veracruz) culture. In an interesting commentary on traditions and tourism, up until 1958, Papaloapan dancers always went to the Guelaguetza (the statewide dance festival held in July) with the Fandango Jarocho as their dance. Given the mountains that separate the Papaloapan region (in both Oaxaca and Veracruz), the audiences didn’t know the dance, and didn’t pay much attention to it. At that point, Oaxaca governor Alfonso Pérez Gasga decided there should be a more generally Oaxacan theme to Papaloapan’s dance. The pineapple was chosen as broadly representative of the region, and everyone knows pineapples! The Pineapple Dance costumes were based on the Chinantec huipiles; last came the music and the dance. Needless to say, it took older people a while to adapt to the Pineapple Dance.
At the End of the Papaloapan
Given the cultural connections across the Cuenca (Basin) de Papaloapan, if you go anywhere in Papaloapan Region, you should also make it towards the mouth of the river in Veracruz, to a town called Tlacotalpan. (There is no passenger boat travel between Tuxtepec and Tlacotalpan – if you’re not driving, you need to take the bus.)
Set up on what used to be an island in 1550, Tlacotalpan was declared a World Heritage site in 1988, mainly for its architecture and colonial layout along the river. It was established to serve as a colonial river port. For a visitor today, it’s not the architecture so much as the brilliant colors in which it is painted.
Local residents are voluble about their town – we had an impromptu guide who explained which houses he himself had painted, why the colors were what they were, and of course, where his cousin’s restaurant on the river was! Should you be lucky enough to be in Tlacotalpan on February 6, you can see the Virgen de Candelaria arrive by boat to be trekked through the streets to the cathedral.
Valles Centrales
By Julie Etra
The Central Valleys (Spanish: Valles Centrales) of Oaxaca—also known as the Oaxaca Valley—are a geographic region encompassing the municipalities of Etla, Centro, Zaachila, Zimatlán, Ocotlán, Tlacolula, and Ejutla. This area is home to important and well-known archaeological and cultural sites, including Monte Albán, Tule, and Mitla, as well as lesser-visited sites such as Yagul and the Guilá Naquitz Cave.
The cave is especially notable as the verified birthplace of the oldest distinctly recognizable ancestor of modern annual corn: teosinte, a perennial grass with tiny mazorcas (corn ears) about the size of a slender finger. More on that in a bit.
Geography and Climate
The Y-shaped valley lies at the intersection of two major Oaxacan mountain ranges: the Sierra Madre del Sur and the Sierra Madre de Oaxaca (colloquially known as the Sierra Norte), which is an extension of the larger Sierra Madre Oriental. (Sierra means “mountain range.” For context, I live on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada in northern Nevada—which, once upon a time, was part of Mexico.)
Oaxaca City sits at the heart of the valley at an average elevation of 1,550 meters (5,115 feet). With access to water from the Río Atoyac and Río Salado (though not in great shape today), the area has long been attractive for settlement. The valley spans more than 3,375 square kilometers (1,303 square miles), with about 1,100 km² (700 mi²) of arable land—by far the largest stretch of flat, farmable land in this mountainous state.
The Tlacolula Valley stretches 50 kilometers (31 miles) east, the Zimatlán Valley runs 100 kilometers (62 miles) south, and the Etla Valley extends 40 kilometers (25 miles) northwest.
The climate is subtropical highland, with warm temperatures year-round—something that often surprises winter visitors. Rainy and dry seasons are distinct, much like the coast, though less extreme. The valley averages about 69.5 cm (27.4 inches) of rainfall per year. Winter temperatures hover around 17°C (63°F) in November through January, rising to around 22°C (72°F) from May through August.
Geology
The Valley of Oaxaca has an ancient and complex geology. It features a mix of Precambrian metamorphic rocks (dating back 4.6 billion to 541 million years), Mesozoic sedimentary layers (252 to 66 million years ago), and Tertiary igneous rocks (66 million to 2.6 million years ago).
The valley floor is composed of gneisses (coarse to medium-grained metamorphic rocks) and mylonites (fine-grained rocks found along fault zones). Surface rocks include schists, granodiorite, and limestones, the latter indicating the presence of an inland lake or sea in the distant past. Sediment from surrounding mountain erosion has also filled much of the valley.
This is a tectonically active zone—part of the Oaxaca Fault System, where the Cocos Plate subducts beneath the North American Plate along the Middle American Trench. That’s why Oaxaca is so seismically active: about 25% of all earthquakes in Mexico occur here. The January 14, 1931, earthquake, which registered 8.0 on the Richter scale, flattened the city.
Further reading:
http://www.wiki.santafe.edu/images/4/45/Ch3-1.pdf
Economy
Besides tourism and crafts (alebrijes, ceramics, textiles), the valley continues to support extensive agriculture. Crops include corn, sorghum, beans, wheat, melon, watermelon, garbanzo beans, and of course, agave (maguey) for mezcal production. Corn remains the most culturally and economically significant crop.
Today, you’ll also see large greenhouses growing ornamental plants—visible when flying in with Aerotucán or driving into the valley from the south via Highway 175. Flowers such as flor de cempasúchil (marigolds, genus Tagetes), flor de borla or cresta de gallo (Celosia argentea, aka cockscombs), and terciopelo (velvet flower) are cultivated for Day of the Dead altars (ofrendas). Roses are also grown here and sold in markets, including those in La Crucecita.
Important
Archaeological Sites
Yagul
Located midway between Oaxaca City and Mitla on Highway 190, Yagul is a former Zapotec city-state first settled around 500–100 BCE. It remained occupied up through the Spanish conquest. The name “Yagul” is Zapotec: ya means tree and gul means old—“old tree.” (What specific tree? That remains a mystery.)
Excavated in the 1950s and 60s by archaeologists Ignacio Bernal and John Paddock, Yagul is built around a hill and includes a large ball court, palaces, temples, and tombs. Building materials included cobbles from the Río Salado and volcanic rock like basalt. The community likely reached its peak between 1250 and 1521 CE. After the conquest, much of the population relocated to nearby Tlacolula, which now hosts a well-known and colorful market.
Guilá Naquitz Cave
This site is particularly close to my heart. Back in the 1980s, as a student at Colorado State University, we had a few teosinte plants on the university farm. As a grad student, one of my jobs was to help propagate heirloom corn (maíz criollo) seeds to preserve their genetic integrity. Years later, DNA mapping confirmed that teosinte was indeed the ancestor of modern corn—and that it originated here, in Oaxaca.
Guilá Naquitz Cave (Zapotec for “white cave”) is located about 5 km (3.1 mi) northwest of Mitla, likely in a limestone outcrop. This site is of enormous ethnobotanical and paleobotanical importance, documenting the early domestication of crops like teosinte, squash (Cucurbita spp.), bottle gourds (Lagenaria siceraria), and beans.
Inhabited as early as 10,000 years ago, the area once supported a rich variety of edible plants consumed by hunter-gatherers—acorns, wild fruits and berries, prickly pear cactus (tuna), agave, nuts such as yak susí (the identity of which remains unclear), wild onions, and more. Sadly, centuries of land-use change have greatly diminished this ecosystem. The cave is located at the base of a cliff at an elevation of 1,926 meters (6,319 feet).
Highlighted Communities in the Valley
Here’s a small, somewhat random selection of communities we’ve passed through on our drives to Oaxaca City:
Ejutla de Crespo
Located at the southern end of the valley, Ejutla means “place of abundant greens” in Nahuatl. “Crespo” refers to Manuel Sabino Crespo, a contemporary of Morelos during the War of Independence. The town’s economy centers on agriculture and mezcal production.
Ocotlán de Morelos
With a population of around 23,000, this town was bypassed about a decade ago when a new commercial route diverted traffic away from its bustling central square. The name Ocotlán comes from Nahuatl and means “among the ocote trees,” referring to the pine species found descending from the oak-pine woodlands above. The suffix honors José María Morelos y Pavón, Catholic priest and independence leader. Agriculture is the main economic driver.
San Bartolo Coyotepec
Just five kilometers (three miles) south of Oaxaca City, this town is famed for its barro negro (black clay) pottery. The shiny finish comes from polishing and specific firing techniques. There’s a wonderful little museum on the west side of the main highway. Years ago, my sister and I eavesdropped on a workshop there.
Villa de Zaachila
This town and municipality is 6 km (3.7 mi) south of Oaxaca City along Highway 131. Before the conquest, it was the main city-state after the fall of Monte Albán. The name may refer to its 14th–15th century ruler Zaachila Yoo—or it may mean “large leaf of the purslane” (Portulaca oleracea), a crunchy succulent considered a weed in the U.S. but a valued quelite in Mexico. You’ll often find verdolaga in local markets and dishes (see The Eye Archives:
http://www.theeyehuatulco.com/?s=quelites).
The Eight Regions of Oaxaca
By Kary Vannice
Oaxaca, a state in southern Mexico, is officially divided into eight regions. These regions are not administrative divisions like municipalities or states, but they are recognized officially by the state government and widely used for planning, cultural identification, and statistical purposes.
How Did These Regions Come to Be?
There are a variety of reasons for the existence of the eight regions. The most basic is Oaxaca’s geography and ecosystems. The natural environment varies widely across Oaxaca—from mountains and forests to coasts and valleys—shaping economies and lifestyles. The mountains and rivers in particular can isolate one area from another, although rivers also provide transportation from one location to another.
Each region’s historical and cultural identity is determined by its distinct mix of indigenous groups, languages, traditions, and history, and how these characteristics and events have evolved over time.
The government planning agencies use the regional divisions in designing and implementing development projects, educational programs, and infrastructure efforts more effectively. INEGI (Mexico’s national institutes of statistics and geography) and other agencies use the regional breakdown for statistical data collection through surveys and census work, thus perpetuating the regional districts.
While the regions are not political divisions like states or municipalities, they are officially recognized and serve cultural and functional purposes. Here’s a brief summary of the defining characteristics of each region of Oaxaca.
Valles Centrales (Central Valleys)
– Capital region; includes Oaxaca City
– Cultural and economic heart of the state
– Known for Zapotec heritage and artisanal crafts
Sierra Norte (Northern Sierra)
– Mountainous and forested
– Strong indigenous communities (Zapotec and Mixe)
– Rich in ecotourism and biodiversity
Sierra Sur (Southern Sierra)
– Remote and rugged
– Primarily Zapotec and Mixtec populations
– Known for traditional farming and coffee production
Cañada
– Narrow region in the northeast
– Predominantly Mazatec population
– Noted for herbal medicine and natural springs
Mixteca
– One of the most culturally distinct regions
– Home to the Mixtec people
– Struggles with soil erosion and migration, but rich in ancient history
Costa (Coast)
– Includes Huatulco, Puerto Escondido, and other beach areas
– Ethnically diverse (Afro-Mexican, Chatino, Mixtec)
– Fishing, tourism, and farming
Istmo de Tehuantepec (The Isthmus)
– Geographically strategic narrow land bridge
– Predominantly Zapotec with strong Isthmus identity
– Known for wind farms, matriarchal traditions, and cultural festivals
Papaloapan (also called Cuenca (basin) del Papaloapan)
– Northern tropical lowlands along the Papaloapan River
– Ethnically diverse (Chinantec, Mazatec, Mestizo)
– Sugarcane and tropical fruit production, other small-scale industrialization
– Continuous with the basin and delta of the Papaloapan in Veracruz
Celestún: Then and Now
By Deborah Van Hoewyk
If you haven’t been to Celestún, you should go – and if you want an object lesson in how tourism can change a small fishing village, go twice, a couple of decades apart. (Not that Bahías de Huatulco doesn’t represent how tourism changes a place!)
Celestún is the head town of the municipio (basically, a county) of Celestún, in Yucatán state; it’s about 105 km (65 miles) west of Merida on the Gulf of Mexico. The Mexican Tourism Secretariat identified Celestún as a place to develop “low environmental impact” tourism, focused on the flamingo nesting sites in local lagoons.
Celestún Then – 2001
When the idea of wintering in Mexico first took hold, a friend’s father who spent his winters in San Miguel suggested that we could get a cheap charter flight to Cancún and explore the Yucatán.
We were neophytes at traveling in Mexico, our Spanish pre-beginner. Our previous, and only, trip had been in 1979, to Veracruz – where burros were staked out in the grassy sand dunes that stretched south to Boca del Rio, and to Jalapa, to visit my ex-pat friend teaching English at the University of Veracruz – pigs roamed the streets. Twenty years later, the sand dunes, the burros, and the pigs, not to mention the boat-up restaurant with drunken singers at lunchtime, were no more.
Going to Cancún, Getting Out of Cancún
The cheap charter was doable, so off we went. At the time, it was possible to book just the flight and not an attached vacation at some glass-towered hotel on the beach. Not interested in Cancún itself, we left the airport in our rental car and headed for Mérida, the capital of the state of Yucatán.
On the road into the centro, hubby John kept saying, “When is this street going to get better?” We clearly didn’t know then that most urban Mexican streets are crowded, dusty, noisy, frenetic. Right in the middle of it all, I said “We’re here!!!” Hopping out of the car and over to a blank but beautiful hardwood door, I entered the quiet lobby of the Dolores Alba hotel. The Dolores Alba displayed its colonial heritage in a lovely arched and beamed dining room replete with chirping bird cages. No street noise. Parking was through a bigger hardwood door next door, but of course John had to circle through chaotic one-way streets to get there.
Then as now, Mérida, and Progreso, north down the road to the beach, had much to offer: colorful Mexican markets, colonial architecture, outlandish beach architecture – some other story. We were bent on Celestún to see the flamingoes – in late winter, it is the largest nesting site in the world, with 25,000 to 35,000 flamingoes. Back then, what little information there was appeared in the Lonely Planet guide, Yucatán. And Celestún was definitely a Lonely Planet experience.
A Visit to Celestún
Driving from Mérida straight west on route 281, we crossed the bridge over a long, skinny lagoon, Riá Celestún, to “downtown” Celestún, located on the beach. A year earlier, in 2000, Mexico had declared the area a “biosphere reserve”; in 2004, UNESCO would make it an international biosphere reserve and the Ramsar Convention, an international wetlands preservation organization, would recognize it as being of international importance. None of this ecological significance was yet evident to visitors.
On the advice of our LP guide, we found a a hotel a block off the beach. Lunch was available on the beach – all you had to do was follow the giant black SUVs from Mérida churning their way through the “streets,” paths bulldozed through the sand. We also checked out how to visit the flamingoes, which entailed going down to the beach in the morning; when a given boat had enough passengers to make it worth their while, the voyage would begin.
By dinner time, the SUVs – and the restaurants – were gone. We drove hither and yon looking for food, ending up in a general store, where we found tinned sardinas, saladitas, and cervesa. Back at the hotel, we discovered that the only source of light to set up the sardine/saltine repast was a naked lightbulb about 8 feet up the wall. It did have a hanging string to turn it on and off.
The next morning, we went early to the zócalo, thinking surely there would be a restaurant. Not so much. Someone in the central market did offer coffee, which turned out to be Nescafé de olla – thinking Nescafe would be quick, I soon learned that, no, the de olla part is brewing it in a pot with a bit of brown sugar and cinnamon, and takes way more time than pouring boiling water over coffee granules. The time, however, allowed us to espy a turquoise door over in the far corner of the zócalo.
To which we proceeded after having our coffee, which was just enough time for the turquoise door to open and reveal a restaurant with a breakfast menu. “Oh, look,” I said, “Poffertjes!” Hubby is Dutch, and poffertjes are Dutch, wonderful little puffy buckwheat pancakes. My poffertje announcement caught the attention of the restaurant owners, a young couple from Delft in the Netherlands. They had come to Celestún a year before, promptly decided this was for them, went home for six months, sold everything they owned, and came back to open the restaurant with the turquoise door.
The Main Attraction: Flamingoes!
Full of poffertjes, we went back to the beach. No one was there yet, so we sat on a driftwood log. Eventually five other people showed up, that was enough, so we helped push the boat down to the waves and got on. I don’t recall that we had to wear life jackets. Not even sure that I recall life jackets at all!
From the beach, the boat captain found a tunnel cut through the mangroves to reach the lagoon. As we headed to where the flamingoes were supposed to be, he pointed out a crocodile perched on what appeared to be a log floating in front of the mangroves. Everyone rose up, sharply tilting the boat towards the water, to take pictures of the crocodillo. We continued on, until a faint coral line appeared along the far side of the lagoon – closer and closer until the line turned into thousands of flamingoes, heads down in the water, feasting on brine shrimp, tiny creatures that give the flamingoes their coral-pink colored feathers. It was an unforgettable sight.
After many, many (no doubt identical) flamingo photos, we set off on our return. The crocodillo was still there, turning lazily in the wind. Somehow the “log” looked more like a very large tire. When we coasted through tunnels hacked through the mangroves to reach our last stop, a petrified forest, I had enough Spanish to ask whether the crocodillo was muerto, and yes indeed it was dead as a doornail. Sort of a home-grown tourist attraction, although I didn’t have enough Spanish to ask how they stuffed it.
On our way back to Cancún (via Chichen Itza), we first went along what’s now called North Beach to inspect a beach house my sister had seen for rent. It was right on the beach, and we filed it away for future reference.
Celestún Later – 2020
We never did rent the two-bedroom beachfront villa, but we did go back to Mérida (the Dolores Alba now has a large swimming pool where the dining room was, and is called “Doralba” – but still lovely and quiet), and again on to Celestún. Mérida is now a stop on the Tren Maya, the pet tourism-cum-poverty-alleviation project of Mexico’s previous president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. Despite local objections to the Mayan Train’s negative ecological impacts, it has had a major impact on increasing tourism to the Yucatán peninsula – Mérida was the subject of a recent (Feb. 24, 2024) New York Times “36 Hours in …” travel article.
The time we spent in Mérida in 2020 was more akin to the “36 hours” idea than what we did in 2001. Art museums, historic houses, beautiful parks (with ice cream!), and paseo-ing on a boulevard to choose among the upscale restaurants.
After several days of this, we and my sister got in our rental car and went down that same road (Route 281) to Celestún, crossed that same bridge and located our hotel at the beach. This time we had reserved our two rooms in a hotel with a patio, where we were often the only people having wine and cheese (no sardines, no saltines) in the evening. We could walk along the main street and pick a restaurant, or walk on the beach and pick a palapa serving what we call “beach food.”
The Main Attraction: Ecotourism
This time, rather than take the boat tour to the big flocks of flamingoes, we went eco-touristing. The international recognition of the Riá Celestún biosphere and its wetlands (there’s an adjoining reserve of wetlands at the south end of the biosphere that extends into Campeche state, Los Petenes).
We searched out the Guardianes de los Manglares Dzinintún – the Guardians of the mangroves that ring the Dzinintún lagoon. It was a little hit and miss, but we found them. There were a couple of guys hanging out in hammocks; by now, our Spanish was good enough to say we wanted to go on the tour, and ask whether there would be flamingoes. Yes, that was good, come back tomorrow morning, and we would find flamingoes.
The next morning, after a little confusion about who we were and what we wanted, we hiked a bit to get to a “canoe,” more of a flat-bottomed boat than a canoe (they now offer kayaks for self-propelled adventures). The captain poled the boat through the mangroves, which was a great experience, and we did find small groups of flamingoes in the open areas.
We then went out into the lagoon. The boat captain was having some difficulty poling across the lagoon to get to the dock (return trip was a hike through the mangroves). The captain was struggling to pole the boat towards the dock, so John jumped out to pull, and ended up waist-deep in pale gray mud. The captain was probably appalled, but didn’t say a word! With that, my sister and I had no trouble getting out of the boat onto the dock.
On our hike back, mostly on a home-made boardwalk, every time we reached some clean water, the captain had John take off his pants and wash out the mud – it took three days of rinsing them with the hotel hose to finally get them clean.
Developing Ecotourism in Celestún
According to recent (late 2024, 2025) reviews on Tripadvisor, the Guardianes have come a long way. You reserve in advance with a WhatsApp call, and a tuk-tuk type mototaxi picks you up at your hotel. There are bilingual guides (ask in advance), plus the boat captain. The guide points out birds and wildlife, talks about the work of the reserve, and explains how the Guardianes work with other ecotourism organizations around the world. The tour sounds the same – the presentation has been “modernized.”
(www.guardianesdelosmanglaresdedzinintun.com/)
There is also an ecotourism company called Sheartails Expeditions (the Mexican sheartail (Doricha eliza) is a hummingbird native to Mexico) that started in 2002, after we were there; it was badly damaged by Hurricane Milton in October 2024, but is again offering some tours for birdwatchers; one specialty is a firefly float through the mangroves. (www.facebook.com/sheartailexpeditions)
Local Salt Production
We also took a tour, although you can apparently drive there yourself, of the colored, mostly pink, salt pans (charcas). The Maya settled the area around Celestún around 1800 BCE; they produced salt via evaporation and traded it throughout their empire and with other pre-Hispanic civilizations.
Our guide explained the Celestún salt industry; in the early 1900s, the town of Real de Salinas (Royal Salt Mines) was the production site for “dye wood” (Haematoxylum campechianum, or logwood) – a hardwood that can produce red, purple, and blue dye, and for salt. The town of Real de Salinas is now in ruins, although people ride bikes out to see the “ghost hacienda.”
The salt industry that remains in Celestún is small, no longer a major source of income or employment for many of the nearly 7,000 people who live there. There is a women’s cooperative society that produces and sells salts from the reserve (Sociedad cooperative salinas de la reserva); the coop wholesales and resales flor de sal, coarse salt, table salt, and sea salt, which you can buy locally. There is a more commercial product sold by a Cancun company called Gusto Buen Vivir (The Taste of Good Living) – Celestún Flor de Sal Gourmet, “Harvested, Collected, Dried, and Packaged by Hand.” You can buy it on Amazon for $30 USD for 26.5 ounces.
Ecotourism, Tourism, and Celestún
In January 2025, the governor of Yucatán issued a UNESCO-sponsored publication, Yucatán: Mosaicos de Experiencias. UNESCO’s goal is to strengthen the capacity of rural indigenous communities to design and manage their own “community-based tourism” (CBT) experiences; the tourism department of Yucatán state has a capacity-building program to help develop local CBT businesses as an alternative to the mass resort-style
model (really, is the beach in Cancún much different from the beach in Phuket?). CBT gives communities the chance to benefit from tourism experiences they design themselves; the outcome is equitable development that brings market benefits to marginalized local peoples. Both the Guardianes de los Manglares Dzinintún and Sheartails Expeditions are listed among the 14 CBT “social enterprises” in the Yucatán Mosaic catalogue.
And how well is CBT holding up in Celestún? When we first went to Celestún, there were nearly 6,000 people there, although the population rose to 10,000 in octopus fishing season, which begins August 1 (Mexico is one of the world’s largest exporters of octopus, and 98% of that octopus comes from the Yucatán). From 2000 to 2010, the population increased by less than 300 (± 5%), but from 2010 to 2020, it increased by almost 23%, to 8,389.
That population increase comes from migration in search of employment, a typical result of promoting a new tourism destination. Associate Professor of Anthropology Matilde Córdoba Azcárate has studied four tourism sites in the Yucatán, Celestún among them. Córdoba Azcárate looks carefully at how tourism exploits the places, people, and natural resources of any given location “in order to satisfy short-term consumer demands.” Like us, Córdoba Azcárate twice spent time in Celestún, first in the mid-1990s and then in 2002. In the 1990s, she found it was off the beaten path of tourism, but once Mexico defined the biosphere in 2000, and UNESCO recognized that, development started to accelerate. By 2002, the author found “all the trappings of modern tourism” – which limited access to the very natural resources Celestún was trying to merchandise, intensified social conflict, and increased crime and violence.
While development has increased the population, prosperity is not equally shared (please tip your hotel maid), there are not enough jobs to go around, there’s exceedingly limited health care. According to Córdoba Azcárate, increasing tourism has benefited only a few people, and failed to deliver the “promised sustainable and inclusive economic growth.” In our experience in 2020, 18 years after Córdoba Azcárate’s second visit, the situation may have improved – here’s hoping that the Yucatán’s CBT capacity building program for community-based tourism stays alive and well!
Córdoba Azcárate’s book is Stuck with Tourism: Space, Power and Labor in Contemporary Yucatán (Oakland, CA: University of California Press, 2020).
Cuernavaca To-do List
By Julie Etra
Robert Brady Museum
This almost overwhelming museum is located in the former home of Robert Brady, a wealthy American art collector who expatriated to Cuernavaca after being encouraged to visit Mexico—particularly Cuernavaca—by socialite and arts patron Peggy Guggenheim. She, along with other celebrities, became a lifelong friend. Born into a railroad-money family in the Midwest, Brady showed an early curiosity about art and, as a young adult with means, traveled extensively and began collecting.
In 1962, he purchased a deteriorated 16th-century monastery in Cuernavaca, which he restored and remodeled into a permanent residence. When he died in 1986, the home and its entire collection were donated to the municipality to be preserved as a museum, just as he left it. The collection is remarkable in both size and quality, with placards identifying the origin of each piece throughout the home. While much of the collection is Mexican, it’s also wonderfully eclectic—featuring art from Africa (notably the Masai), Indonesia, New Guinea, the Pacific Northwest, Haiti, India, South America, and Alaska.
http://www.museorobertbrady.com
Museo Regional Cuauhnahuac (Museo Regional de los Pueblos de Morelos)
“Cuernavaca” is a Spanish adaptation of “Cuauhnáhuac,” the original Nahuatl name used by the Tlalhuicas and Xochimilcas (and to a lesser extent the Toltecs)—and no, it doesn’t mean “horn of the cow,” as I once thought. To the Nahuatl, it meant “surrounded by trees.
The building itself is extraordinary. Construction began in 1526, just five years after the fall of Tenochtitlan, (present-day Mexico City, 65 km (40 miles) to the north), and was completed in 1531. Often referred to as the Palacio de Cortés, it was the home of Hernán Cortés and his second wife, Juana Zúñiga. It looks part fortress, part palace, and has served many purposes over the centuries. After being badly damaged in the 2017 earthquake, it reopened on March 30, 2023, with updated exhibits and structural repairs.
Now a regional museum, it includes excellent pre-Hispanic artifacts, natural history exhibits (did you know Mexico has the greatest diversity of pine trees in the world?), and a replica cuexcomate—a pre-Hispanic corn storage structure unique to Morelos. The second-floor highlight is eight murals by Diego Rivera from 1930 titled The History of Morelos: Conquest and Revolution, which are impressively preserved. There are also two oil paintings from 1938 by Spanish painter Salvador Tarazona and a mural by him on the upstairs vault.
After the post-earthquake repairs, it reopened as the Museo Nacional de Los Pueblos de Morelos (the National Museum of the Peoples of Morelos); it has a facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/p/Museo-Regional-de-los-Pueblos-de-Morelos.
Jardín Botánico y Museo de Medicina Tradicional y Herbolaría (Botanical Garden and Museum of Traditional Medicine and Herbalism)
This peaceful four-hectare garden is located on the former El Olindo estate, once home to a 19th-century summer house built for Maximilian of Habsburg (briefly Emperor of Mexico from 1864 until his execution in 1867). Called Casa de la India Bonita (House of the Beautiful Indigenous Woman), it’s now home to a lovely botanical garden focused on native and medicinal plants.
Although the museum (inside the summer house) was closed during our visit, the garden itself is thoughtfully divided by plant type. While some areas—like the medicinal plant section—could use a little extra care, most of the labels were still clear and informative. A standout was the cuajilote (Parmentiera aculeata), a small tree in the Bignoniaceae family. Its fruit and flowers grow directly from the trunk, and the fruit fibers were once used in making cuexcomates.
https://sic.gob.mx/ficha.php?table=museo&table_id=736
Sunday Night on the Plaza de Armas
We had a great view of the plaza from a second-floor restaurant in a nearby shopping complex. After dinner, we joined the action below. There were the expected food carts (this is Mexico, after all), and we tried the local version of gaspacho moreliano—a fruit salad in a cup—called excamocha.
A group of mariachis played for 300 pesos per song, and we requested two. A payaso (clown) entertained children seated in bleachers with tricks, pantomime, and acrobatics, with kids eagerly joining in. Fun fact: there are professional clown schools in Mexico! If you’re on Facebook, check out Escuela de Payasos México—it’s a serious craft.
Meanwhile, a group of teenagers played a fast-paced hybrid of hacky sack and soccer, weaving through the crowd, while adults placed bets on the outcome. It was a joyful, chaotic scene.
Xochicalco Archaeological Site and Museum
Just 30 minutes from Cuernavaca, this under-the-radar site is absolutely worth visiting. The modern museum building is thoughtfully designed to maximize natural light, reducing the need for artificial lighting.
Xochicalco, meaning “Place of the House of Flowers” in Nahuatl (xochitl = flower, calli = house, -co = place), was likely founded around 650 CE and thrived between 700–900 CE. Its mountaintop location wasn’t just for defense—it was ceremonial.
According to our guide, about 500 elite residents lived in the religious center, with another 15,000 or so spread across the lower terraces. The city featured an astronomical observatory (closed during our visit), clever drainage systems, and a massive cistern. Around 900 CE, Xochicalco was destroyed by fire and largely abandoned, though a small population remained. It was later recolonized around 1200 by the Nahuatl-speaking Tlahuica people.
Hacienda Vista Hermosa
We stayed at this restored hacienda after reading a glowing review in The New York Times last October. The article profiled several historic haciendas in central Mexico, but this one stood out for its history, location, and grounds.
Built in 1528 by none other than Hernán Cortés—he was granted the land as an encomendero—it was originally a sugar cane plantation. Like many haciendas, it was abandoned after the Mexican Revolution and agrarian reform, but has since been partially restored, likely in the 1990s (judging by the tilework, bathroom fixtures, and lack of air conditioning).
The property is stunning. With over 100 rooms, a huge pool that doubles as a fountain, stables with well-kept horses, and lush landscaping, it offers a charming (if slightly dated) getaway. We were lucky enough to get a private tour of the original dungeon—lit by cleverly designed skylights and with a hidden exit near the restaurant. Fun indeed.
Twenty-Four Hours in Puebla
By Marcia Chaiken and Jan Chaiken
Many people who drive from the U.S. or Canada to spend the winter in southern Mexico either bypass Puebla or stay at a hotel on the periphery of Puebla and leave the next morning. If you are one of those travelers or simply want to dip your toes into an interesting colonial city, we suggest that next time you plan to spend at least 24 hours in Puebla. Whether you’re interested in history, food, art, music, shopping, or simply strolling through picturesque streets and alleys, Puebla has it all.
Puebla is located east of Mexico City, usually less than a two-hour drive, and northwest of Oaxaca, about a five hour drive. Whether you are in a car or a bus, the trip from either city is through breathtaking mountains. Coming from Mexico City, snow-capped volcanos announce the approach to Puebla, and the giant Popocatépetl is unmistakable on the frequent days when it puffs vapor high above its peak. Traveling northward from Huatulco, in addition to the route to Puebla through Oaxaca, there is a longer and costlier, but perhaps faster, route via high-speed toll roads – you start out by heading east from Huatulco.
Once you reach Puebla we suggest you first check into your hotel. We’ve found that hotels outside the central area are relatively less expensive, quieter and more comfortable than hotels located in the city center. Taxis to and from the center can cost just a little more than the paid parking lots downtown and, unlike Mexico City, can be safely hailed on the streets.
To help you plan your 24 hours, head first to the state and municipal tourist offices within a block of each other in the center of Puebla near the cathedral. They will have a list of music, art and other events for that day and, if you are there on a weekend or holiday, there will be many. Those sponsored by the government are often free – but plan to get to those events early since you will be competing with families who live in Puebla. We’ve attended concerts where families of three and four generations can fill an unofficial block of seats.
The tourist office can also provide maps of the city and help you locate the venues of events that are of interest. Places are easy to find in Puebla once you figure out that all the roads are numbered but divided into a grid centered on the zocalo. Streets (calles) run north and south and change name to Norte and Sur at Avenida Reforma. Avenues (avenidas) divide into east (oriente)and west (poniente) at 16 de Septiembre. Avenues north of Reforma are even numbered; south are odd numbered. Similarly, streets east of the zocalo are even, and to the west they are odd numbered. Thus, traveling east, after Calle 6 comes Calle 8.
Once you pin down your time and place for a concert, recital or other event, here are our suggestions for filling in the rest of the time. Walk across the street to the central plaza (zócalo) and check out the cathedral. You may get distracted by the amusing antics of children, performers and other visitors to the zocalo as well as the mix of the restrained classical and more flamboyant baroque architecture of the exterior of the cathedral. But be sure to go inside.
Originally designed in the late 1500’s but not structurally completed until 1690 and decorated a century or more later, the ornate interior with its fourteen chapels may well provide the feeling that you’ve been transported over the Atlantic to Spain. At the very least, the cathedral provides an insight into the extreme wealth the Church invested in succoring the early conquerors and colonists and the burden placed on the shoulders of the native population who provided the labor for the edifice. If your passion is colonial architecture, you may want to spend the rest of the time exploring some of the more than 60 buildings of that era in the vicinity. But we suggest that you sample other Puebla delights.
No trip to Puebla is complete without exploring Talavera and perhaps buying some. It is exquisite brightly-colored hand-painted pottery. If you’re there on a weekday morning or early afternoon, head over to Uriarte (911 Avenida 4 Poniente) for a tour of their factory and drool over the magnificent items in the retail shop. If you’re in Puebla on a weekend, we suggest you head east on 4th Avenue and explore some of the Talavera shops that cluster on streets surrounding the crafts market El Parián on 6th Street North. The market itself is great for buying inexpensive gifts – yes, they will bargain – but look for the stores that display credit card signs, since they are likely to carry true Talavera, not cheap imitations. The owners are usually more than eager to explain the differences in quality.
North of the crafts market you will find a lively enclave of artists’ workshops that welcome visitors to view works in progress. The art is usually interesting and ranges from realistic to abstract; there is no pressure to buy any canvases. There are relaxing coffee shops and restaurants if you are in the mood for a substantial meal. But we suggest you wait until your main meal and be sure to have mole poblano elsewhere for comida (late lunch).
Puebla is famous for its mole (and poblano means “from Puebla”). It is unlike mole in Oaxaca or the rest of Mexico. There are two restaurants that allow you to sample a variety of moles, each more delicious than the last. They are Fonda de Santa Clara and El Mural de Los Poblanos, which as its name implies has a large colorful and amusing mural of famous people from Puebla.
Fonda de Santa Clara has two locations, one fairly near Uriarte (920 Avenida 3 Poniente) and the other closer to the zocalo (307 Avenida 3 Poniente). El Mural is also close to the zocalo (506 Avenida 16 de Septiembre). The staff at Santa Clara tend to push the specials, and we’ve found it’s best to thank them but order the mole. Although the moles at these three venues are all delicious, the atmosphere varies.
The times we’ve been there, Santa Clara near Uriarte seemed to attract relatively large families; Santa Clara near the zocalo, tourists downstairs and lively groups in the upstairs rooms where live music is played on Sunday afternoon. El Mural appears to be a business people’s favorite, quieter and a little more upscale than the Santa Claras. If you don’t want to wonder afterwards whether you chose the best mole, you can order enchiladas 3 moles. For you fans of chiles en nogada, you can also try the Puebla version.
A quick sample of Puebla’s many museums can best be achieved by a couple of hours in Museo Amparo, 708 Calle 2 Sur. We visit each time we are in Puebla, because the exhibitions change and every special exhibition we’ve seen has been engrossing. The permanent collection includes well over 1000 prize pieces of prehispanic art that are remarkably curated to give the visitor a glimpse into the culture and beliefs of the artisans. There are also exhibits of colonial and 19th century art and furnishings that make clear the opulence of the life of Poblanos for whom the cathedral was built.
Amparo functions as a cultural center, with programs for children and adults including storytelling, films, lectures and discussions (in Spanish, of course). Check their website for upcoming events: http://www.museoamparo.com
But we’ll bet this will be the first of many trips to what the Spanish called “Puebla de los Ángeles” for its many churches – there’s much more to see and do!
Sensory Sensitivity Meets Cultural Reality in Mexico
By Kary Vannice
For the sensory sensitive traveler, Mexico can be a challenge. If you’re planning to visit, or stay for a while, no doubt you’re already anticipating the delicious spicy food, warm hospitality, and the vibrant colorful culture that Mexico is known for. But there are some very real sensory and cultural differences that some foreigners aren’t prepared for until they come face to face with them. Being unprepared can turn something delightful into something disorienting or even disturbing, depending on your level of preparation and understanding. The key to truly enjoying Mexican culture isn’t to try to change it to suit your comfort zone—but to shift your expectations and adapt to your surroundings.
Even if you don’t identify as particularly sensory sensitive, Mexico may still throw you a few cultural curveballs, so knowing how to deal with them gracefully and respectfully in advance can mean you get to have a good time and you don’t have to ask Mexico not to be Mexico.
It won’t take long before you realize that most of Mexico is loud (at least by foreign standards). Whether it’s music blasting from a nearby store or café, fireworks before sunrise for a saint’s day celebration, or street vendors shouting their daily offerings through a loudspeaker—Mexico is a full-on auditory experience.
Celebration is a part of everyday life in Mexico. Music, fireworks, parades, and community gatherings often involve sound levels that would be considered noise violations in other countries. Most Mexicans aren’t conditioned to need silence to relax, so there are no “quiet hours.” These sounds aren’t disturbances—they’re expressions of joy. It’s Mexicans living their best life, and when foreigners insist on lowering the volume or making complaints, they are asking the locals to lessen their enjoyment of life.
But there are ways to cope. First, pay attention to daily rhythms—afternoon siesta often brings a lull and can be a great time to rest. If you see a party, join in instead of resisting. Mexicans are some of the most welcoming people on the planet and live by the ethos: the more the merrier. If you’re sensitive to sound, invest in quality earplugs or noise-canceling headphones. And most important, accept that the noise isn’t a cultural flaw—it’s a feature.
Another sensory difference that might catch you off guard is personal space—or the lack of it. In many Mexican communities, people naturally stand closer together, touch more often, and greet others with a hug or kiss on the cheek, even if you’ve only just met. For someone from another culture, this can feel like an invasion of space.
The local culture places high value on connection and warmth. Touch is seen as a sign of respect and caring, not a threat to autonomy or an invasion of space. Physical closeness indicates trust. But, if you don’t feel comfortable touching or even standing close to people you don’t know, Mexico can be a challenge.
It’s important to keep in mind that their perception of personal space is different from yours, so they genuinely won’t understand your discomfort. Relax your body when your personal space is invaded and set gentle boundaries after you build rapport but do it with humor and kindness. Mexicans love to joke around and are quick to laugh if you keep things light. It can also help to simply observe the locals as they move in and around each other. You’ll soon see that they are as warm with strangers as they are with family. You’ll likely learn to appreciate the beauty and tenderness of these simple gestures.
Time might not have a sensory quality, but for many of us, punctuality is a deeply ingrained expectation. And in Mexico, this will likely present a greater challenge than either noise or touch. Time here is flexible, fluid … and often late.
You may arrive at a dinner party “on time” and find you’re the only person there for the first hour. A plumber who promised to arrive “a las diez” might show up at noon. In Mexico, time is more suggestion than commandment.
This isn’t about disrespect. It’s simply that Mexican culture prioritizes relationships over rigid scheduling. Things unfold when they unfold. Trying to force your sense of urgency onto that rhythm rarely works, and often backfires. Taking it personally is pointless. Complaining about it won’t change deeply embedded cultural beliefs and ways of being. Complaining about lateness or feeling personally offended will only hurt you, because from a cultural perspective, no offense has occurred.
The best solution? Build in “buffer” time. Don’t schedule back-to-back commitments counting on things to run on time. Use this time to your advantage by always carrying a book, podcast or magazine with you. It’s a chance to loosen your grip on control and start living a little more in the moment, like the locals do.
If on your travels you find yourself wishing things were quieter, more spacious, or more “efficient” … pause. Take a minute to recognize that the discomfort you’re feeling isn’t a sign that something is wrong with Mexico. It’s a sign that your cultural expectations are being stretched.
Take a breath and remind yourself: this is the whole point of travel…growth, expansion, and understanding.
The most meaningful experiences come not from controlling your environment, but from surrendering to it. From witnessing a culture on its own terms, not yours. From expanding your comfort zone, not policing everyone else’s.
Allow the experience with openness, curiosity, humility, and a willingness to be changed.
Because if you let it, Mexico will not only surprise you; it will transform you.
The Art of Belonging: How to Live Like a Local in Mexico City
By Carole Reedy
Famed author Maya Angelou once said: “I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself.”
Wherever we are, most of us yearn for connections, familiarity, and comfort. You can find these feelings even while traveling … if you are armed with knowledge and savvy.
Here are some tips to assist you on your journey in one of the grandest cities of the world. If you have the luxury, allow yourself time to wander, absorb the culture, history, way of life, and routines of the locals.
Before the more practical recommendations, let’s reflect on a philosophical perspective. Despite the hustle bustle of the city, take time to roam (or as my friends and I say “flaneur”) through the neighborhoods (called colonias) that sprinkle the Valley of Mexico. Don’t pack too much in a day, as traveling around the big city takes time and energy, too.
Enjoy the unexpected and unanticipated joys of the moment. Look up and around … at the trees, sky, and skyscrapers. There are surprises around every corner. If you are fortunate enough to come in March, the jacarandas will be in full bloom.
Be open to the people on the street and metro or while shopping. Unlike the French, Mexicans will welcome you even though your Spanish may be not quite correct, or even if it’s nonexistent.
If you are like other visitors to this bewitching city, your memories will remain vivid long after you depart. Here are some practical ways to make your sojourn uncomplicated and rich.
Greetings!
First impressions are said to be the most important, and none is more so than the first words out of your mouth when greeting someone on the street, entering a room or a store, or addressing a waiter.
Friends visiting Mexico City (Ciudad de Mexico) are often surprised at how, in this heavily populated city, people take the time to greet one another. Americans in particular have a tendency to always appear to be in a rush, speaking rapidly and without the formality of a greeting.
The first words out of your mouth when entering a room, a meeting, or store, or simply on the street, should be buenos días (good morning), buenas tardes (good afternoon), or buenas noches (good evening or night). Another useful phrase is just buen día, short for que buen día (literally, may it be a good day – Spanish loves the subjunctive).
A smile goes a long way and is always appreciated. Mexicans always take time for a formal greeting before the chatter begins!
Time and pace
No hay prisa is a good motto to practice during your visit, be it for a week or a year. Literally the phrase means “there is no hurry.” Although some actions and attitudes may be interpreted as “slow and lazy” by some foreign cultural standards, Mexicans are deliberate and formal in their manners, which is actually considerably more sane than the frenzied manners of many foreigners.
Mexicans are patient. Often you will see lines of people waiting for a service. No one is yelling or complaining. People just wait and chat, somehow knowing that stress, and therefore raising their blood pressure, doesn’t do anyone any good or make the line move any faster.
“Why is everyone always late?” They aren’t. The concept of time is different south of the border. If you are invited to a party at 7 pm and show up at exactly 7 pm or, God forbid, earlier, you will be alone and your hosts may not even be dressed yet. It seems that guests stroll in when they want, and everyone thinks that is just fine. Not to worry. No one else will! You won’t miss dinner. If you’re invited for 8 pm, you may not eat until 11.
You may notice that if a business advertises its opening at 9 am, employees may not show up until 9:30 or so. Banks that open at 9 am (an institution you may think would be punctual) may open their doors on time but the employees will just be strolling in and preparing their desks for the day. Go with the flow.
Most entertainment events do not start exactly on time, but they do make an effort to begin within the half hour. Movies do begin on schedule, as do bullfights. When you’re at a supposedly sold-out live concert and you look around 10 minutes before it begins, you may wonder where everyone is. Look around 20 minutes later, and you will see a full house. Arriving early is neither the norm nor fashionable.
Ahorita is the most confusing Spanish word for foreigners. Literally, it means RIGHT NOW. But it never actually does. It can mean anywhere from five minutes to two hours, or even tomorrow morning. If a worker tells you he will return ahorita, the fact is you don’t know when that will be. Take it with a grain of salt. He may as well be saying “who knows?” If you do need a definite answer, ask a more definite question.
My Mexican friends know our northern habits, and therefore they do try to arrive close to the designated time when meeting me. You may not be able to change your lifelong habits, but wait patiently, and if you are on time by your standards, enjoy the ambience or, as I do, always carry a book with you!
Transport, Traffic, and La Hora Pico
Mexico City has a fine public transport system used by millions of people every day. The most used and popular are the Metro (mostly underground) and the Metrobus, which is a bus with its own lane. Cars NEVER drift over to the Metrobus lane; the fine for disobedience of this law is huge. Ambulances are allowed though.
Both systems are easy, and both use the same card for entrance. The metro is 5 pesos and the Metrobus is 6 pesos (basically 25 cents in US currency). The cards are available at all metro stations. There are maps online. Plus, there are actually two apps, chock full of information: Metrobus CDMX and AppCDMX.
The most important information to keep in mind, however, is La Hora Pico, or rush hour. It is a horror in Mexico City, and even the person who experiences no form of claustrophobia may experience a small panic attack when you observe the crushing hoards in action on public transport.
The hours to avoid public transport or driving: weekdays 7 am to 10 am and then again 5 pm to 9 pm. This applies to all areas of the city. Arrive at your destination early and enjoy a cappuccino if need be.
Metrobus and Metro cars are clean and efficient. The first car of each transport train is designated for women, children, and the elderly. Please honor this, as all of us do.
City buses are available in many parts of the city. There are lots of bike lanes, and it appears more people use them daily. If you travel north in the city or far south you may see cable cars as public transport. In Ixtapalapa, the home owners paint creative designs on their roofs for the enjoyment of the cable car riders.
Do beware of bikes and motorcycles. They seem to believe traffic laws are not written for them, running red lights and essentially just doing as they please. Helmet laws are in effect.
If you are an Uber user, you should be quite content with the service here. The cars are clean and well maintained, unlike many taxis. The drivers are, for the most part, a delight and very often talkative, some speaking English. If you do speak some Spanish, this is a good way to practice. Strike up a conversation; they too enjoy practicing their English.
In every way, Ubers are better than taxis, including reasons of safety and the price of your journey. Do not enter a taxi that accepts only credit cards; it is a scam that will charge your card more than the actual price. I do have a taxi sitio (taxi stand) in my neighborhood that I trust, but for the most part Ubers are the better choice, an important factor being that you are not watching the meter run while sitting in traffic.
Ubers know the quickest and safest routes. You can call them right on the street as well as from a designated location.
Banking
Here are a few money-saving and helpful tips about ATM withdrawals.
First of all, to avoid fraud, always use a bank ATM. A big money saver is to refuse the rate of exchange the bank ATM offers you when you enter your card. Most ATMs provide instructions in both Spanish and English. Just press NO when it reads “Do you accept this rate of exchange?” That way you will receive the exchange rate of your personal bank, which will be assuredly less.
It is best to do your cash withdrawals during weekdays. The ATMs run out of money on the weekends and especially during puentes, three-day weekends.
The cost of an ATM transaction also varies by bank, so if you are not happy with the rate at one bank, try another.
You will always get Mexican pesos at the bank ATMs. Should you need US dollars, you will need to visit a casa de cambio (money exchange).
The Joy of Eating
With the more practical matters out of the way, let’s end with a short discussion about Mexican eating habits and protocols.
The grand capital is replete with restaurants for every eating preference and idiosyncrasy. You may feel overwhelmed when you look online for your favorite. So, here are some general options to narrow down your choices.
The meals. Instead of breakfast, lunch, and dinner, all of México enjoys desayuno, comida, and cena.
Desayuno is eaten before 10 am. Comida, the main meal of the day, begins as early as 1 or 2 pm and is served until 4 or 5 pm. Cena is a light evening meal offered from 7 to 10 pm. This is the habit in Mexican homes. Restaurants often adapt to foreign timetables for eating, and since restaurant times may vary, best to check hours on line.
Street food. To eat or not to eat? My guests’ favorite question, and my advice is benign: It is up to you. There are risks involved everywhere, but more so from street vendors. Often there is no running water in the puestos de comida (food stalls), and employees often handle money and food simultaneously.
The food is usually delicious, and it’s certainly quite cheap. Millions of Mexican workers eat it every day. I confess to eating street taco carnitas occasionally, even though I may experience gastrointestinal backlash the next day.
Market eating. Everyone enjoys the huge buildings that house mountains of fruits, vegetables, meat, and often household items. There are also small restaurants inside the markets. One of my favorites is Mercado Medellin (located in Roma Sur on Campeche and Medellin streets). The market has two locations for restaurants, so be sure to ask one of the vendors where to go.
Chains. Here are some unexpected spots that serve great Mexican meals.
The most famous chain store that also houses a restaurant is Sanborns, owned by the world-famous entrepreneur Carlos Slim.
To this day, the distinct dress of the Sanborns waitresses is famous, going back more than a century ago. Collector and dealer of folk art and archaeological artifacts Francis Davis was invited to open a Mexican curio shop inside the Sanborns Casa de los Azulejos, located in Centro. Davis designed a uniform for the servers and according to some, it was loaded with typical Mexican references. It adds such charm to the restaurant.
Sanborns has a good variety of Mexican food which is quite tasty and traditional. There are Sanborns shops located all over the city. There you will find books, scarves, pharmaceuticals, jewelry, perfumes, and electronics, with the merchandise varying from store to store. It is a practical place to shop, and it is a legend.
Another excellent chain for Mexican food is the Bajio restaurants. Like Sanborns, they are located all over the city. The food is outstanding with a good variety. I frequent the one in the Reforma 222 shopping center. Carnitas are a specialty.
Tipping. Waiters and waitresses receive very small salaries – thus they depend on tips. Some owners do not even pay a salary, the workers’ only compensation being tips. Twenty percent is traditional if the service is good. So please tip your wait staff.
Crème de la crème restaurant. Since I’m always asked about this, I will reluctantly address it here. Based on the reaction of my visitors and reviews, the best upscale restaurant is Rosetta, located in Roma Norte, with the Rosetta bakery, located on the next block, as the choice for the best cafe. Definitely the best pastry is the cafe’s Mil Hojas, covered at greater length in my article “Where the Locals Hang Out: The Unsung Treasures of CDMX” (February 2025).
Soak in the sunshine and joy of this city that is unlike any other.
“One never reaches home, but wherever friendly paths intersect the whole world looks like home for a time.” Hermann Hesse
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