By Deborah Van Hoewyk

We’ve probably all heard about the water crisis in Mexico City (see Julie Etra’s article elsewhere in this issue), but Mexico City’s problems are just the worst example of a country-wide shortage of water.

· Historically, 30 of Mexico’s 32 states have suffered from water scarcity; currently, drought conditions affect all of Mexico except Oaxaca and parts of Veracruz and Puebla. January to May of this year was the driest spring ever recorded.
· Having water is not the same as getting water – in places with plumbing, up to 40% of the water is lost through leaks in poorly maintained piping. Huatulco homeowners often experience water cutoffs (rumor has it that the water is diverted to the fancier hotels).
· Reservoirs have receded, leaving mudflats littered with trash, surrounding brownish ponds where once there were sparkling lakes; some have been closed. Perhaps worst off are the three reservoirs that comprise the Cutzamala system, which supplies Mexico City. Authorities started reducing the water distribution in October 2023; in June, they shut it down for 6 hours to make repairs. Fortunately, the rainy season has restored the Cutzamala system to 67% of capacity, from a low of 28% in June (the system is completely closed when the level drops to 20%).

Tourism and Water

Despite the water crisis, Mexico is a wildly popular tourism destination. In 2022, tourism employed 2.8 million people, over 7% of the Mexican workforce, who served over 38 million visitors. In 2023, Mexico as a tourist destination was 4th in the world, 2nd in North America; over 42 million tourists visited Mexico. In 2022, tourism spending constituted 8.5% of Mexico’s GDP; in 2024, estimates say it will make up 14.2% of GDP – tourism brought in $2.3 billion in June of 2024 alone.

All those tourists, including non-resident snowbirds, presumably come from places that are not experiencing a water crisis. And they bring their water consumption habits with them, along with a pretty accurate perception that drinking tap water is not a good idea in much of Mexico (see the Chaikens’ article elsewhere in this issue). A 2012 article on “Tourism and Water Use” in the journal Tourism Management indicates that each tourist visiting Mexico used 300 liters – just shy of 80 gallons – of water per day; in Randy Jackson’s article elsewhere in this issue, tourism consumed 15% of Huatulco’s water supply.

Current data on just how many tourists are using that water are hard to come by, outdated, and generally only count people who arrive by plane; we do know that nearly 500,000 people arrived at the Huatulco airport in 2018, and that arrivals this year are almost back to pre-pandemic levels. As tourism increases, so does tourist water usage. Rest assured, however, it’s not just that those folks are splish-splashing, taking a bath. Direct consumption of water is far from the only impact tourism has on Mexico’s water supply.

The Price of “Big Tourism”

There are those who argue that Mexico’s government privileges the interests of tourists and the tourist industry over those of local people, especially through large-scale tourism projects that bring more tourists. Referred to in 2023 as “anchor products” by then Secretary of Tourism Miguel Torruco Marqués, they include new and remodeled airports, the highway from Oaxaca to the coast, the largest aquarium in Latin America (in Mazatlán), the Callejón de Liverpool honoring the Beatles (also in Mazatlán), museums, arenas, and a Chinatown in Baja. More tourists, more swimming pools, more 5.3-gallon garrafones de agua.

The biggest “anchor product” of them all is the Tren Maya (Mayan train), pet project of Mexico’s last president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. Intended to promote – Torruco Marqués said “detonate” – tourism in the Yucatán, the train will transport visitors from Mayan ruin to Mayan ruin throughout the Yucatán Peninsula, with side stops for other attractions. The track runs for 1,554 km (about 966 miles); the seven sections run from Palenque in Chiapas up to Mérida in Yucatán, over to Cancún and down to Chetumal in Quintana Roo, and back over to Escárcega in Campeche. In addition to tourist passengers, the train will carry freight; notably, the primary freight client is Pemex (Petróleos Mexicanos), which will be hauling fuel.

Various efforts to make the Mayan Train sustainable have taken place. The train itself provides low-impact public transportation, reducing traffic emissions. Portions are electrified or hybrid ultra-low-sulfur diesel and electric, there’s an extensive tree-planting program to replace the clear-cutting for the track, there are safe passages for wildlife, and large portions of track have been elevated to avoid disrupting the landscape beneath the tracks.

The Mayan Train and the Great Maya Aquifer

Missing, however, seems to be any concern for the Great Maya Aquifer (Gran Acuifero Maya, or GAM) one of the world’s largest aquifers, extending through the states of Yucatán, Quintana Roo, Tabasco, and Chiapas. It provides drinking water for 5 million people – if you’ve ever gone swimming in a Yucatán cenote, a water-filled sinkhole, you’ve been in the GAM.

The Yucatán peninsula was once a huge underwater coral reef, but has risen out of the sea to form a plain composed of porous coralline and limestone, and the latter is water soluble. When rain, which is slightly acid, falls on the peninsula, it percolates through to the underground cave system, wearing away the limestone. When the limestone is weakened by serving as a water filter, it collapses into the underground system, creating the open-air cenotes.

The GAM is a network of underground caves and rivers. The Great Maya Aquifer Project, part of the National Institute of Archeology and History (INAH), is mapping the aquifer and investigating “cave archeology and paleontology” – basically, what fell, or what the Maya threw, in the water, along with artifacts and wall paintings done before the caves filled up.

The Mayan train speeds over the aquifer, sometimes on crumbling limestone only three feet thick. Track builders drove 15,000 long pilings down through the limestone and into the aquifer to support the train; the impact of construction on the aquifer has yet to be measured. The process coats once pristine caves with a shards of concrete and broken stalactites. According to Guillermo D. Christy, a civil engineer with the group Cenotes Urbanos, a voluntary collective focused on preserving the cenotes of the Yucatan, “Pouring concrete into a cavern, directly into the aquifer, without any concern or care – That’s total ecocide.”

Tourism’s Indirect Effects

Less direct are the impacts of increased tourism brought by the Mayan Train. As the Yucatán population has increased (Playa del Carmen had 46,000 people in 2000, and 304,000 in 2020 – a 661% increase), the cenotes have been filling with the trash and human waste generated by too-rapid urbanization. Nearly 50% of individual wells have registered contamination. The cenotes and the wells connect to the aquifer.

Contaminating the water supply destroys more than clean drinking water. One of Tulum’s more popular tourist attractions is a cenote park called Dos Ojos (“Two Eyes”). Dos Ojos is a community-managed attraction in the nearby ejido of Jacinto Pat (ejidos are community-owned lands). Recent explorations have revealed that Dos Ojos is connected with the aquifer. The path of the train was routed around the two main cenotes, but passes directly over several others.

Some Jacinto Pat residents are not happy. An article in Time magazine (by Soraya Kishwari, January 2023) focused on the Maya Train’s impact on indigenous lifeways. One villager spoke anonymously about not wanting the Mayan Train: “It will destroy the jungle, our home, and contaminate the cenotes, our life source.” Gabriel Mazón, a resident who refused to move to make way for the train, says, “As a people, we have allowed ourselves to be bought … there is no support from indigenous people [for the Maya Train]. If our ancestors could see what is being done in their name, they would die of sadness, knowing how they have been profaned, prostituted, and their culture and traditions used.” Mazón continued, “We are little more than a brand or marketing slogan for the government. The people have already been paid off. There will be no more benefits. All we have left to wait for now is the invasion.”

Changing a culture by changing its environment is a very complicated issue. As culture and local heritage are redefined to meet tourist expectations – as they are made into commodities that are more “salable” to outsiders – culture and heritage change to reflect the value placed on them by those outsiders. You can live without water for three days; living without your history is a long, slow death.