Hidden Gems of Modern Mexico City Architecture & Design

If you’re an architecture enthusiast in Mexico City, world class design spanning every era surrounds you. By exploring the metropolis, you can discover everything from Aztec engineering marvels to cutting-edge skyscrapers, colonial convents to stunning examples of 20th Century Mexican Modernism. While I love it all, the latter is my absolute favorite. The 1900s brought remarkable change to Mexico City’s built landscape.

This was the era of homegrown modernist architects like Luis Barragán, Teodoro González de León, a nd Mario Pani. They were accompanied by multitalented jacks-of-all-trades like Juan O’Gorman, Diego Rivera, and Vicente Rojo. Together, these revolutionary artists transformed Mexico City architecture into something uniquely chilango. They combined Prehispanic motifs and geometry with sleek modernist lines and materials. The result is a thrilling Mexican vernacular architecture that continues to fascinate me.

You may already be familiar with some of this Mexico City architecture. The Casa Luis Barragán, the Monumento de la Revolución, and the Ciudad Universitaria (University City) are all famed examples that no one should miss! But once you’ve checked these well-known marvels off the list, I strongly encourage you to discover the other sites below. I’m mostly focusing on lesser-known spots from these incredible architects and artists, giving you the chance to experience the rich variety of Mexico City modernism without the crowds. Keep in mind that I’ve honed in on 20th Century Modernism here, not 21st Century contemporary architecture! (I’ll save that for a future post.)

Casa Gilardi & Casa Prieto López

If you’re a modern architecture buff, your first stop in Mexico City is probably the Casa Luis Barragán. This UNESCO World Heritage Site served as the home of Barragán, Mexico’s most famous architect, for decades. An emblem of Mexican minimalism and a strong influence on architects even today, it’s beloved for good reason! But after you’ve visited the Casa Barragán, don’t forget to check out the architect’s other spectacular designs around Mexico City.

Casa Gilardi

Casa Gilardi is full of vibrant color and contrast.

The Casa Gilardi, just a few blocks away from Barragán’s own house, is a privately-owned home hidden on a quiet street in San Miguel Chapultepec. But the slice of bright pink on its exterior hints at the groundbreaking architecture within. Casa Gilardi exemplifies everything we associate with Barragán today: contrasting, brilliant yellows, pinks, and blues, clean lines, an innate understanding of natural light, and seamless integration of the interior and exterior patio.

Casa Prieto López

Not ready to fork out the cash to visit pricey Casa Prieto López? Grab a bite or take a yoga class at Tetetlán next door.

Head (much) further south in the city and you’ll arrive at the rocky Pedregal. Luis Barragán and colleague Max Cetto were the first architects to envision the Pedregal as a habitable urban space. Previously, chilangos saw this wilderness of undulating cooled lava as untamable. An area of tarantulas and snakes, it was fit for painters’ eyes and photographers’ lenses, but not for modern homes. Barragán and Cetto saw the Pedregal as an untouched canvas to enact their vision of a uniquely Mexican, wholly organic community where modernist homes would perfectly blend into to the wild landscape. After Cetto built his own home there (see below), Barragán moved forward with a daring development plan. This started with the Casa Pedregal, officially known as the Casa Prieto López.

While still exemplifying Barragán’s signature style, the Casa Prieto López’s greatest strength is the Pedregal itself. Rough curves and valleys of black volcanic rock surround the home, forming the singular garden and appearing in surprising ways within the structure itself. The contrast between dark, porous stone and highly saturated pops of color is spectacular.

How to Visit Casa Gilardi and Casa Prieto López

The family still resides in Casa Gilardi, only allowing tours on certain days.

Both these homes are privately owned, but open for small group tours on certain days if you reserve in advance. Write to the Casa Gilardi owners on their Facebook page here or at casagilardi@gmail.com. The Casa Gilardi has an entrance fee of $300 pesos and charges an additional $500 pesos for a photography pass. You can walk there if you’re in the Roma/Condesa area. Take an Uber/Didi from anywhere, or of course, take my beloved Metro. It’s close to the Juanacatlán (Línea 1) and Constituyentes (Línea 7) stops. It’s well worth the trip to see this unique Mexico City architecture.

As for Prieto López, the current owner has done wonders to restore the house and garden to their former glory. Write them at visitas@casapedregal.com to make a reservation. It costs $800 pesos for foreigners, $500 pesos for Mexicans, $450 pesos for foreign students, or $275 pesos for Mexican students. If you aren’t yet ready to fork out the cash, one part of the property has been converted into Tetetlán, a stunning restaurant focused on local and organic ingredients. It’s a little pricey as well, but has great food and is worth it for the floor alone. (Think: clear floors exposing the volcanic rock below.) You can take an Uber/Didi there fairly quickly (20-30 mins) from central areas of the city.

Casa Orgánica

On a clear day, enjoy the Casa Organica’s views of the Mexico City Valley.

When architect Javier Senosian finally announced that his famed Casa Orgánica would open to the public as a museum last December, I signed up for a tour immediately. But before I could go, Covid-19 cases rose drastically and the city slid back in the dreaded Semáforo Rojo lockdown. All museums, galleries, restaurants, and so on closed from one moment to the next, including the Casa Orgánica. As of June 2021, however, the house is back open for very small group private tours.

After my long wait, I was finally able to visit the Casa Orgánica recently. What I discovered was absolutely thrilling. Senosian, who studied under clean-lined functionalists at the UNAM, took his designs in the complete opposite direction as he developed his architectural practice. A strong believer in the power of natural, curved forms and textures, Senosian has become the foremost creator of organic architecture in Mexico. 1985’s Casa Orgánica, where he lived with his family for several decades, is a stunning example. The house eschews straight lines and angles. It literally embraces you in a labyrinthine, womb-like space of poured “ferro-concrete” bends and curves. (The uterus is actually a big inspiration for Senosian, who believes it’s the first space we ever experience.)

The home’s womb-like feel embraces visitors.

The Tour Today

The Casa Orgánica tour, led by Senosian’s knowledgable students, is a spectacular sensory journey from the outset. You must remove your shoes at the door, padding through the luxuriously carpeted house in your socks. Winding, arterial hallways lead into spacious rooms with thoughtful built-in furniture, from serpentine cabinets to curved, inviting beds. The house is just as Senosian left it before moving, filled with his art, clothing, and even books. It’s full of fascinating details, including a sculptural painted eye that stares straight at the Torres de Satélite, an architectural site designed by Barragán and Senosian’s teacher, Mathías Goeritz. The exterior of the house is just as jaw-dropping. Most of the Casa Orgánica is covered by curves of grass and climbing bougainvillea blooms. A shark-shaped addition emerges from the sod. Whether you’re a design student or a mere photo-snapping Mexico City architecture fan like me, visiting the house is incredible.

Take off your shoes upon entering, and enjoy the house’s soft floors and smooth edges.

How to Visit the Casa Orgánica

Learn more about the house, Javier Senosian, and scheduling a visit at https://www.casaorganica.org/visitas. Bring cash for your ticket. (And maybe some extra efectivo to buy one of the excellent books about Senosian’s architecture on site.) You can take Uber/Didi to Naucalpan to reach the house in about 30 to 40 minutes, depending on traffic.

Museo Anahuacalli

The museum rises, a temple to Mexican modernism and the prehispanic past.

When a family friend visited years ago, I told him about some of Diego Rivera’s most unique projects: the mosaic-ed sculpture Fuente de Tlaloc, his lesser-known portraiture, and of course, the Museo Anahuacalli. “No no no,” he mansplained to me, “You must be mistaken…Rivera was a muralist, not an architect!” Fortunately for us all, I was definitely not mistaken. Rivera’s sprawling career crossed disciplines and borders. It showed him to be a multifaceted Renaissance man who dabbled in everything from writing to fireplace-building.

But Rivera best expressed his vision on a monumental scale. The Anahuacalli Museum in far-south Mexico City is perhaps the greatest example of his brilliant creativity. (Other than his murals, of course.) Rivera’s great life passion — other than women — was collecting Mesoamerican artifacts. In fact, he amassed over 50,000 spectacular pieces over the years: a collection fit for a museum! So fit for a museum, in fact, that Rivera built one himself. He selected this lava-covered slice of the southern Pedregal for his temple to ancient Mexicanidad, combining Prehispanic influences with clean modernism for a truly one-of-a-kind building. The Anahuacalli Museum rises like a black lava fortress from the soil, half gothic and half mexica.

This artifact altar is one of the Anahuacalli’s most stunning spots.

The Museum Itself

The museum’s leadership describes it as “inspired by pre-Hispanic architecture, the work of Frank Lloyd Wright, and functionalist aesthetics.” If you think that sounds like a bewildering mix, it is. Yet the jack-of-all-trades artist makes it work, creating a uniquely Riverian modernist pyramid. It’s genuinely one of a kind within Mexico City architecture. The interior holds about 2,000 fascinating treasures over three stories, spanning every region and culture of Mexico. Each display case is a work of art, particularly the breathtaking “altar” on the ground floor. Finally, the outside and inside of the Museo Anahuacalli are studded with stone mosaics and motifs, which line the walls, floor, and even ceiling.

How to Visit the Museo Anahuacalli

I relish the texture of tezontle, rugged volcanic stone.

You can easily take an Uber/Didi to and from the museum. It’s also accessible via public transportation: take the Metro to Tasqueña, then hop on the Tren Ligero or a combi to get the rest of the way there. (It is a wee bit complicated this way.) The museum is currently open with limited capacity, and you must buy tickets in advance here.

Casa Estudio Diego Rivera & Casa Juan O’Gorman

The famed “bridge of love” connecting Frida and Diego’s homes.

Now let’s move on to a drastically different set of buildings, also associated with Diego Rivera himself. When Rivera and Frida Kahlo first married, they asked their friend Juan O’Gorman to design a house for them. The result was their functionalist yet whimsical Studio-House, independent homes connected by a thin bridge. While that’s the simple story we’re told in films like Frida, the reality of these groundbreaking designs begins much earlier.

Casa O’Gorman

Right next door lies the modest, yet groundbreaking Casa O’Gorman.

Just a few meters from Diego and Frida’s one-time home sits a humble red house in a similar style. In the late 1920s, O’Gorman built the house for his father Cecil, though Juan ended up living and working in it himself. A painter, muralist, and architect, Juan greatly admired the ideas of modernists like Le Corbusier. He seized this 1929 opportunity to build something drastically different from any other Mexican home. The result was the first functionalist structure in the country. Today known as the Casa Juan O’Gorman, the two-level concrete home features a simple yet elegant curved staircase and broad paneled windows. It was revolutionary in its simplicity and experimental form. O’Gorman’s neighbors in San Ángel, however, didn’t appreciate its beauty at first. Like the Eiffel Tower and plenty of other buildings before it, many hated the Casa O’Gorman. Traditionalists preferred the area’s classic, colonial homes.

Casa Estudio Diego Rivera

It’s only over the course of the 20th Century that we learned to appreciate this little house and its outsized significance in Mexico’s architectural history. Kahlo and Rivera, however, adored their friend’s avant garde spirit. Only a few years after he moved in, they commissioned their house right next door in 1931. It really functions as an extension of O’Gorman’s original aesthetic on a larger scale, adding elements of white and blue to the red-hued concrete, as well as a striking green “fence” of cacti.

Diego’s studio is a fascinating architectural space — and a glimpse into the mind of the artist.

Kahlo herself only lived here for few years before returning to her childhood home — today’s famous Casa Azul — but Diego continued painting and partially living here for decades. Inside the larger structure, Diego’s art studio is the inarguable star of the show, highlighting his eclectic work and folk art collection. Note the double-height paneled windows. O’Gorman designed these so that Rivera could transport the gargantuan pieces of his murals/mural studies out with a crane.

How to Visit the Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Casa Juan O’Gorman

In a fairly quiet, colonial part of southern Mexico City, these houses stand in stark contrast to the historic San Ángel Inn across the street. If you’re using public transportation, I recommend taking the Metrobus down to the La Bombilla stop. Then, you can stroll through a few lovely blocks of the cobblestoned, colonial neighborhood on your way to modernity. The houses are open Tuesday-Sunday, 10-5:30 PM. If you have a little extra cash, pop into the San Ángel Inn for a delicious breakfast.

Museums of Chapultepec Forest

Nestled among the lush greenery of Mexico City’s famed Bosque de Chapultepec — the lungs of the city, sprawling twice the size of NYC’s Central Park — lie three stunning examples of Mexican Modernism. This area is home to several of the city’s best museums: the Anthropology Museum, the Museum of Modern Art, and the Tamayo Contemporary Art Museum.

Anthropology Museum

Visit the Anthropology Museum an hour or two before closing for a courtyard sunset like this.

The Anthropology Museum is hardly a hidden gem. Still, it merits a mention not only for its jaw-dropping contents — astounding artifacts from Aztec and Mayan cultures, Gulf Coast and Teotihuacán, Tula and Monte Albán — but for its unique Mexico City architecture. In the 1960s, architect Pedro Ramírez Vázquez drew inspiration from the Precolumbian past and cutting-edge modernity for this hymn to clean lines and monumental volumes. The most striking feature is the long stone courtyard, centered by a towering column carved with stone reliefs by the Chávez Morado brothers.

Tamayo Museum

The clean, yet richly textured exterior of the Tamayo.

Right next door, I may not be a huge fan of the ultra-contemporary art within. That said, the architecture of the Tamayo Museum is striking in its own right. Designed by one of my favorite architects, Teodoro González de León, along with Abraham Zabludovsky, the angular, concrete building accentuates its natural surroundings, providing an eye-catching contrast without alienating the landscape.

Modern Art Museum

In addition to its lovely architecture, the MAM features an enviable collection of Mexican modern art.

Finally, there’s the Museo de Arte Moderno (MAM), one of my favorite Mexico City museums. This stunner holds both permanent collections and rotating exhibitions highlighting the best of Mexican modern art. Sitting a stone’s throw away across Reforma Avenue, the MAM doesn’t grab your attention from the outside. Along with many museums of the 1950s and 1960s in Mexico, this was an emblem of an emergent, modernizing country. The original design by Pedro Ramírez Vázquez (who also designed the Anthropology Museum) was never fully realized, but what they did create remains lovely. Divided into two structures, enjoy both buildings’ warm, surreal domes, which seem to glow from within like mother-of-pearl washed up on the coastal sand. In between the two buildings, a wonderful and varied sculpture garden lies among the trees.

How to Visit the Chapultepec Forest Museums

Due to their central location along Reforma Avenue, these paragons of Mexico City architecture are very accessible. You can easily reach all three via Metro (Line 7, Auditorio stop and stroll down to the museums) or the Auditorio stop of the Reforma Metrobus. Or make a fun day trip of it and enjoy a Sunday bike ride down Reforma (when it’s closed to cars), popping in to whichever museum suits your fancy. Oh, and they’re all free that day! The MAM and Tamayo are open Tuesday-Sunday, 11 AM to 5 PM. The Anthropology Museum is currently open Tuesday-Saturday, 10 AM to 5 PM (somewhat odd pandemic hours).

Espacio Escultórico of the UNAM

Image courtesy of the Fundación UNAM.

Once upon a time, the territory which the National University (University Nacional Autónoma de México) calls home was a singular wilderness: the Pedregal. After the volcano Xitle erupted 11,000 years ago, it left rolling coils of cooled, cracking lava across the landscape, creating a wholly unique ecosystem. While sadly, development has impacted much of this ecology, several forward-thinkers — most famously Luis Barragán, of course — recognized the untamed beauty of the Pedregal. Within the UNAM campus, sculptor Federico Silva completed his masterpiece, the Espacio Escultórico (Sculptural Space), in 1979.

The space consists of a giant circle of wild volcanic rock. The circle is surrounded by a wide path and looming, angled stone monoliths. Six huge modern sculptures lie scattered around, rising dramatically from the rugged landscape. Many consider this the largest outdoor sculptural installation in the world.

How to Visit the Espacio Escultórico

The space lies within the Centro Cultural Universitario (CCU). The CCU is easily reached via the Metrobus down Insurgentes Sur Avenue, to the stop of the same name. Unfortunately it’s only open from Monday through Friday, 7 AM to 4 PM, but access is free. It appears that the Espacio is still closed due to Covid, but I hope this changes soon! While you’re there, take a look at the Museo Universitario de Arte Contemporáneo (MUAC), a fairly recently-built, cutting-edge museum designed by Teodoro González de León. It’s currently open Friday-Sunday, 11 AM to 5 PM.

Museo del Chopo

El Chopo rises like a neogothic, post-industrial behemoth out of the everyday city.

When I first stumbled upon the Museo del Chopo on a walk through the Santa María la Ribera neighborhood, I had no idea what I was looking at — even more, I was completely unaware of this building’s bizarre, century-long history. Still, the odd structure, lined by two skeletal towers, entranced me. Rising like a steampunk factory on the edge of a traditional neighborhood, the museum is both out of place and perfectly fitting. After all, el Chopo represents the beginning of Mexico’s modernist era in many ways.

The story of this mysterious building stretches back, improbably, to Queen Victoria’s Great Exposition in London, and the Crystal Palace built to house its marvels. This sparked a craze for world and regional fairs, along with gothic-industrial buildings in a style known as Jugendstil, often combined with elements of art nouveau. In 1902, architect Bruno Möhring designed a particularly interesting structure for a fair in Dusseldorf — and that’s where the story gets weird. A Mexican exposition company took notice of the Dusseldorf building. Eventually, they shipped it piece-by-piece to Mexico, where it arrived to the capital via the old Buenavista Train Station, and was painstakingly rebuilt here. Since those bold days, el Chopo has served as a Japanese Pavilion, a natural history museum, an abandoned ruin. Today, it’s a gorgeously restored UNAM museum dedicated to avant garde art and performance, with a special focus on LGBTQ+ cultural expression.

The museum’s interior feels half barn, half River Rouge factory.

How to Visit the Museo del Chopo

You can access the area around the museum easily via the Buenavista Metro or Metrobus stations. This is the site of the old train station, though sadly no longer home to passenger trains destined for all of Mexico. Unfortunately, due to the pandemic, the museum itself remains closed. You can check the current status of its opening here, but for the time being, it’s nice to walk around the neighborhood and enjoy the building’s oddball exterior. In the 70s, el Chopo began hosting a punk/rock music tianguis, or weekly Saturday market. This eventually spread to the surrounding streets, and it’s still thriving today, with music, clothing, and much more. El Chopo has brought together the best of European and Mexico City architecture.

Casa Estudio Max Cetto

The Casa Estudio blends beautifully into its natural surroundings. Mexico City architecture in its most ecological form.

Before Luis Barragán, before Diego Rivera, in the Pedregal lived Max Cetto. This German Jewish architect fled the Nazis in 1938, later bringing his creative talents and collaborative design vision to Mexico City. A few years later, he became a Mexican citizen and moved to the untamed Pedregal of cooled lava, endemic plants, and crystal-clear views of the volcanoes to the southeast. (A rare occurrence in smoggy CDMX these days, sigh.) Cetto made himself right at home there, building the first ever modern house in the area.

The house combines elements of Mexican functionalism with richly realized artisanal details. The structure itself is lovely and interesting, but immeasurably enhanced by the natural environment. The gardens integrate seamlessly with the volcanic rock and greenery. The outside is brought in even more with floor length windows. Nearing the end of this article, can you tell that I love the Pedregal and volcanic stone (tezontle)?

An old agave springs forth from sheer rock in the back garden.

How to Visit the Casa Estudio Max Cetto

This house is no longer in the midst of the wilderness, but it’s still kind of tricky to reach via public transportation. I recommend taking an Uber/Didi there. Email contacto@casaestudiomaxcetto.com to schedule a visit.

Mario Pani’s Historic Multifamiliares (Midcentury Government High-rises)

Sunrise at the multi, overlooking the clear-skyed city far below.

To wrap up this rambling story, it’s important to remember that not all Important Mexico City Architecture with a capital A is built for wealthy patrons or elite artists residing in private homes — or for that matter, in the luxury apartments springing up around the city. In fact, some of the most significant architectural movements around Latin America have developed by or for the people. My favorite examples of this mass architecture are the multifamiliares dotted around Mexico City. The populist-oriented government constructed these “multifamily” complexes years before high-rise public housing came to the U.S. Often, these buildings have thrived even as their counterparts across the border fell apart.

Centro Urbano Presidente Alemán (CUPA)

The CUPA, or multi, as many neighbors know it, kicked off decades of urban growth in Mexico City. In stark contrast to the low, crowded vecindades most chilangos once lived in, this 15-building complex would bring modernity. It all started with legendary Mexican architect Mario Pani, designer of the famed University City. He obsessed over French visionary Le Corbusier’s ideas for “vertical cities” and habitational units. These grand functionalist designs, both men believed, could bring a greater quality of life to city dwellers. At the same time, they’d allow governments to house great quantities of people in tall buildings.

The interplay of color, texture, and form at the CUPA.

In the late 1940s, Pani convinced the Mexican government to finance his first project, and the CUPA burst into existence as the first multifamiliar building in Latin America. To hear Pani tell it, the CUPA may actually be a world’s first. Le Corbusier himself didn’t finish his (much more famous, hmph) Unité d’Habitation de Marseille until a year later, in 1949, and even then on a much smaller scale, as the French government was deeply skeptical of the architect’s radical ideas. These days, the CUPA may be a bit worse for wear after over 70 years of life, but it remains a vibrant, collective community that’s very close to my heart. Its gray-and-red exterior —endless repetitions of windowpanes and open hallways, hanging laundry and rich greenery spilling from built-in concrete boxes — forms a mesmerizing pattern that combines the best of Mexican functionalism and brutalism.

Tlatelolco

An apartment in Tlatelolco for 673 pesos a month, those were the days. Image courtesy of Mexico Desconocido.

Perhaps no structures hold a more complex, love-hate place in the Mexican zeitgeist than Tlatelolco. Designed by Mario Pani in 1960, this complex executed Pani’s vision on a stunning scale. It originally contained 102 buildings, with 11,916 apartments holding around 70,000 inhabitants. In fact, Tlatelolco remains the second largest apartment complex in North America. Its jaw-dropping scale and sleek, livable design represented the pinnacle of Pani’s funcionalist vision.

Yet that’s only the beginning of Tlatelolco’s story. In 1968, the Mexican government perpetrated the infamous Tlatelolco massacre on unarmed student protesters here. Snipers and police used the buildings to murder students in the plaza below, and hunt survivors. Tlatelolco became a symbol for the dark side of Mexican modernity, embodying both its promise and the ruthless consequences enacted by a government desperate to present modern, “civilized” perfection in the lead-up to the 1968 Olympics. Then, Tlatelolco was hit by yet another tragedy during the 1985 Earthquake. Built near the highly unstable center of the city, one of the high-rises collapsed entirely. Several others were damaged or not well-maintained over the years. Ninety buildings survive to this day, but sadly Pani’s vision of a city within the megacity has not survived fully intact.

How to Visit Mario Pani’s Multifamiliares

Unlike many of the buildings on this list, these are not museums or private residences open for tours. Instead, the CUPA and Tlatelolco are still home to thousands of residents from all walks of life. Many neighbors are friendly and fiercely proud of their home, but that doesn’t mean all are comfortable with tourist groups wandering around and snapping tons of photos. Both areas are open to the public, but I would ask that you be respectful and thoughtful while visiting these historic, integral parts of the fabric of Mexico City architecture.

You can reach Tlatelolco via the Metro Stop of the same name. There are also some slower buses that come here, but they get very crowded and I haven’t felt especially comfortable on them as a woman. The CUPA should be easily accessible with the 20 de Noviembre Metro Stop, but Line 12 is completely down. It’s been replaced by frequent, fairly speedy buses along Felix Cuevas avenue. (Or just walk 15 minutes from the Zapata or Felix Cuevas Metro/Metrobus stops.) As in any busier part of the city, be cautious and don’t carry around tons of valuables, of course. These complexes were truly designed as “cities within the city” complete with their own schools, green spaces, libraries, laundromats, stores, restaurants and much more. While you explore, support these local businesses with a purchase or two. Many of them are owned by or employ residents.

Five Underrated Mexico City Neighborhoods You Need to Visit

All too often, foreign visitors to the capital are directed to the same Mexico City neighborhoods. From Roma to Condesa, Coyoacán to Polanco, there’s nothing wrong with these beautiful areas of the metropolis, of course. This comfort zone might be easy, but hanging around only these well-heeled colonias can have downsides. You might end up surrounded by fellow foreigners, feeling a bit isolated from the rest of the city, culture, and language — not to mention having to deal with these areas’ tourist-oriented prices.

As a result, exploring some of Mexico City’s more off-the-beaten-track neighborhoods can be profoundly rewarding. All of the areas I’m sharing here are personal favorites that not only lie outside of the tourist bubble, but also have a stunning sense of history, from colonial Nueva España to the rapid growth and conflict of the 20th Century mega-city. Whether you’re a recent transplant to Mexico City or a future visitor, I hope you fall in love with one of these spots. I’m certainly enamored with all five.

1) Chimalistac

Jacaranda season transforms Chimalistac into a spring wonderland.

I hesitated to put this Mexico City neighborhood on the list at all, let alone at the very top. Why? Because it’s my favorite. Cobblestone-lined Chimalistac, crawling with colonial ghosts and bougainvillea, is one of the most peaceful, beautiful neighborhoods in the southern half of the city. The last thing I want is for hordes of tourists to flock here, so let’s keep this little secret between you and me.

Chimalistac sits right beneath Coyoacán and east of San Ángel, but receives a fraction of the visitors of these popular spots. Above all, this is because there’s not much to “do” here: the all-residential area has almost no restaurants or shops to entertain the easily distracted. So why go? Simply put, Chimalistac is one of the loveliest places — in the world, in my rather biased opinion — for a long stroll. Every idyllic street harbors colonial homes and thoughtful gardens, stone fountains and tiny, ancient chapels.

Just beyond the gates, busy Mexico City streets roar. But by this neighborhood fountain, tranquility reigns.

History

Like many of the areas on this list, Chimalistac was once an indigenous community (connected with Coyoacán) that paid tribute to the Aztec empire just north. Under Spanish rule, the neighborhood was settled by the barefoot Carmelite religious order, before becoming a more traditional family neighborhood. Today, you can pass over the same footbridge the monks once took to cross the Magdalena River — the water is gone though, replaced by Paseo del Río avenue. Enter the neighborhood from pretty Parque de la Bombilla, and after that, just wander aimlessly through the alleyways. Every time, I discover something new and delightful.

Chimalistac is one of the least-known Mexico City neighborhoods, making it a hidden treasure.

Eat at:

La Balance, a lovely little café and bakery nestled at the start of the neighborhood. Or cross Insurgentes Sur to San Angel, and eat at the famous (and deservedly so) El Cardenal.

Must-See:

The whole neighborhood during jacaranda bloom season (February-April), especially the area near the Casa de California. After that, don’t miss La Capilla de los Secretos (the Chapel of Secrets) in the center of a cobblestone intersection.

2) Tlalpan

Tlalpan is brimming with lovely colonial churches, traditional markets, and greenery.

Many chilangos (Mexico City residents) will tell you that Tlalpan is like Coyoacán was 20 or 30 years ago. Before Coyoacán, famed home to Frida Kahlo and Leon Trotsky, attracted tourists from around the city and world, it was a quietly bohemian neighborhood, still carrying vestiges of the outlying village it once was.

I agree with my chilango friends: today’s Tlalpan has much of that old world charm, without the crowds or souvenir hawkers. That said, the neighborhood isn’t some copy of Coyoacán, but a storied colonia with its own vibrant heritage. While Tlalpan is a sprawling delegation of Mexico City, I’m referring here primarily to the historic center of the area. But it’s absolutely worth visiting Cuicuilco just outside the center as well — it’s the oldest archaeological site in the city!

The Museo del Tiempo, or Museum of Time, is one of Tlalpan’s most unique offerings.

History

Tlalpan means roughly “on solid ground,” and while the city has constantly transformed around it, in the historic center of the neighborhood you will find that sense of solidity and continuity through time. Many indigenous communities have lived in the area through the centuries, including on the site of historic Tlalpan. Like so much of Mexico City, however, the most visible vestiges of the past come from the colonial and postcolonial eras. Wander through Tlalpan’s central plaza and encounter artisans, ice cream shops, and a lovely old town hall lined with murals. The real joy of Tlalpan is simply callejoneando: walking through the plaza and side streets, picking up a paleta here and some tacos there. In short, it’s a wonderful way to spend a Sunday.

Eat at:

Barra Alipus or the neighborhood market (in a brick building just behind the town hall)

Must-See:

Casa de la Cultura “Frisaac” and the Museo del Tiempo

3) Santa María la Ribera

Santa María la Ribera’s famed Kiosko Morisco makes a striking centerpiece for the neighborhood.

Now let’s head north of the city center to another of my favorite Mexico City neighborhoods. Santa María la Ribera is a lively, traditional colonia famed for its central plaza, the Alameda. Not to be confused with the larger Alameda park downtown, Santa María’s tree-lined plaza is home to the Kiosko Morisco. This architectural marvel is truly a Mexico City hidden treasure. Architect José Ramón Ibarrola built the Moorish-inspired structure for the World Exposition in New Orleans in 1884. After the festivities, though, the government brought it all the way to Mexico City, where the mesmerizing Kiosko has now sat, surrounded by jacaranda trees and street life, for over a century.

Santa María la Ribera, however, is much more than just its spectacular Kiosko. Diverse architecture lines the Alameda, from the neoclassical Museo de Geología to midcentury corners. Wander out from this central point, and you’ll find charming cafés and traditional neighborhood tianguis (temporary markets) throughout the neighborhood. Come on the weekend for a profusion of food, music, and artisanry all around the plaza. Head down to the Museo del Chopo on the southern edge of the neighborhood for quirky exhibitions. (Note: the museum hasn’t yet reopened at this point in the pandemic, but you can still enjoy its steampunk-esque architecture!) The stunning modernist Biblioteca Vasconcelos library is very nearby, in Buenavista.

Further south in the colonia, the Museo Universitario del Chopo stands out for its unique architecture.

History

Inaugurated in 1861, Santa María la Ribera was Mexico City’s first formalized, planned “neighborhood.” In the early 20th Century, rich chilango barons came here to escape the city and its pandemics of old (we’re talking Yellow Fever, not Covid-19). The area slowly opened up to working-class families as the rich left for newer developments, especially after the 1985 earthquake. If you’ve seen the film Roma, the neighborhood’s Alameda was also a part of the historical “Halconazo” massacre featured in the movie.

Today, Santa María la Ribera is a fascinating jumble. Blue collar families live side-by-side with young artists, academics who’ve been here for decades, feminist punks, and yes, a smattering of hipsters.

Eat at:

Kolobok, the best (and almost only) Russian restaurant in Mexico City

Must-See:

The Kiosko Morisco

4) Mixcoac

The small and inviting Plaza Gómez Farías is one of my favorite spots for a Sunday stroll.

During the worst moments of the pandemic, when even catching a cab seemed risky, I was eternally grateful for my close proximity to a colonial slice of Mixcoac. Within walking distance of my home, I’d first cross busy, modern Insurgentes Avenue and be transported to another era. Then, the sounds of the metropolis quickly faded away, and I was left in peace to wander through the cobblestone streets of Mixcoac. It’s truly one-of-a-kind amongst Mexico City neighborhoods.

History

Mixcoac means “place of worship of the cloud serpent” in indigenous Nahuatl. In fact, you can visit a small but interesting archaeological site in the neighborhood to learn more about its Prehispanic past. Most of what you see in the historic section of Mixcoac, though, comes from the 18th and 19th Centuries. During this era, it was a separate town outside the city. Moneyed chilangos built their summer homes here, and slowly roads and streetcars connected it to Mexico City until the megapolis swallowed Mixcoac whole.

The sprawling Parroquia de Santo Domingo de Guzmán is a beloved neighborhood icon.

You’ll find many vestiges of the past in Insurgentes Mixcoac, the traditional part of the neighborhood. For a tranquil afternoon stroll, start at the Parroquia de Santo Domingo de Guzmán, a lovely red parish church. From there, head north past the Universidad Panamericana buildings via Augusto Rodin Street. You’ll soon arrive at Plaza Gómez Farías, where another charming church and square await. Explore the surrounding streets or head to Parque Hundido to finish your walk. This “sunken” park was once the site of a brick factory — built on the factory’s dug-out foundations, it sits several meters below street level.

Eat at:

Cal & Maíz, a restaurant dedicated to bringing back native Mexican forms of maize, as well as other indigenous ingredients.

Must-See:

Plaza Gómez Farías on Sunday, so you can buy delicious pastries from the nuns outside their convent on the western edge of the plaza.

5) Azcapotzalco

In Azcapotzalco’s central plaza, even the monuments wear masks.

Of all the lovely, historic Mexico City neighborhoods on this list, I arrived at Azcapotzalco last. Due to its northerly location and industrial surroundings, this neighborhood is often overlooked. Fortunately, my dear friend Gina works here, and when I finally took her up on a long-standing invitation to visit the area, I was delighted by what I found.

If you search amidst the bustle of modern Azcapotzalco, you’ll find plenty of traces of its fascinating past. Surrounding by busy shopping streets and hawkers, the neighborhood’s Zócalo (central plaza) is an oasis of calm. Neighbors chat as they walk under arching jacaranda trees, curving around a lovely pink gazebo in the center. The sprawling Catedral de los Santos Apóstoles Felipe y Santiago Church lies along one side of the plaza — I highly recommend exploring its tree-covered grounds and peaceful chapels. From this central spot, you can also reach the busy Mercado de Azcapotzalco, which brims with fresh produce, chiles, homemade mole sauces, and even natural healers, their stands piled high with aloe vera spines and dried herbs. (Ojo: The market can get crowded and mask use, while decent, is not omnipresent. This may be a better spot to visit post-pandemic.) In general, I recommend visiting Azcapotzalco during non-peak times, to avoid busy streets.

History

Azcapotzalco is legendary — in more ways than one. The Aztecs and other Nahuatl cultures called the area “the place of the ants,” a name derived from an ancient legend. They say that the God Quetzalcóatl, disguised as an ant, stole corn from the heavens and brought this essential Mexican food to mere mortals. Azcapotzalco has always held an important place in the city, both metaphorically and physically. It’s served as a crucial link between indigenous civilizations, a colonial center, and presently, a vibrant hub where tradition and industry live side by side.

The jacaranda-lined Zócalo features a lovely pink centerpiece.

Eat at:

La Conchería, a bakery lauded city-wide for its delectable and creative concha pastries

Must-See:

The Catedral de los Santos Apóstoles Felipe y Santiago

The neighborhood’s central church grounds include this charming, minuscule chapel.

Wrap-Up

Of course, there are even more hidden treasures for you to discover around Mexico City. Likewise, the city is surrounded by many lesser-known spots in the metro area. Would you like a Part 2 to this piece featuring other off-the-beaten-track Mexico City neighborhoods soon? Or a Gringa’s Guide to the prehispanic sites around town? Comment below!

From climbing bougainvillea in Mixcoac to draped jacaranda trees in Chimalistac, these five Mexico City neighborhoods have so much charm and history on display.

Movie Lover’s Guide to the Best Mexican Films

The coronavirus pandemic and self-isolation are drastically changing the very fabric of society, from the way we work to what we do in our free time. For many of us, this means passing time indoors reading, exploring creative pursuits… and after that, lots and lots of streaming. In my case, I’ve been watching a hodgepodge of crime shows, old school comedies, and of course, beloved Mexican films.

More than just entertainment, our newfound watch time is an opportunity to learn about new places and cultures — to discover new directors and actors, countries and languages. With this in mind, I’ve assembled a few of my favorite Mexican films for your viewing pleasure! No list could ever capture the rich diversity of Mexican movies over the decades. Rather, this is a small sampling to pique your interest and give you a wide-ranging view on life and cinema here.

1. Y Tu Mamá También (And Your Mother Too)

Image courtesy of 20th Century Fox/FlixWatch.

Before Roma, before Gravity, before the Oscars and international renown, Alfonso Cuarón was a young Mexican filmmaker who wanted to capture a slice of life in his country. The result of his efforts was Y Tu Mamá También, the ultimate Mexican road trip movie and one of my all-time favorite films.

The movie follows Julio (middle-class) and Tenoch (upper-class), two Mexico City teen boys. They invite a beautiful Spanish woman, Luisa, on a road trip to the untouched beaches of Oaxaca. The spontaneous trip will bring unintended consequences for the trio. Meanwhile, Y Tu Mamá También propelled actors Diego Luna and Gael García Bernal to stardom and made a name for the young director.

With its contemporary soundtrack, heavy use of Chilango slang, and deep-seated class, political, and sexual tensions, the movie set the standard for a new era of Mexican films. It’s a deceptively simple movie. Yet Julio, Tenoch, and Luisa’s journey across Mexico expresses many subtle truths about both the country’s beauty and its sharp, cruel divisions. Y Tu Mamá También sketches Mexico at the turn of the 21st century. It depicts a rapidly changing society reeling from NAFTA’s transformative economic effects, yet still relatively calm before the start of the drug war.

Y Tu Mamá También is available on Netflix US and the Criterion Collection.

2. La Jaula de Oro (The Golden Dream*)

Image courtesy of sensacine.com

A starkly different kind of “road” movie. This little-known film from director Diego Quemada-Díez follows another trio, these young people moving across Mexico with much higher stakes. Juan, Sara, and Samuel are Central American preteens who leave home with a few belongings — seemingly without telling family. They head north, crossing into Mexico with the hope of reaching a better life in the United States.

Once in southern Mexico, they begrudgingly allow Chauk, an indigenous Tzotzil Mayan boy, to join their group. Together, the kids head north on la Bestia, the dangerous cargo trains that many migrants ride. This isn’t the first time this journey has been placed on film. However, La Jaula de Oro is by far the most beautiful and heart-wrenching depiction. These young amateur actors convey the innocence and hope, love and realism of young migrants who have to grow up far too quickly. The film immerses you in their world: where adolescent jealousies and a youthful sense of adventure coexist with the nagging, very real fear of assault, rape, kidnapping, and detainment.

La Jaula de Oro is available to rent on YouTube.

*A more accurate translation of the original Spanish title is “The Golden Cage,” however, the film’s creators chose the English title “The Golden Dream.”

3. Como Agua para Chocolate (Like Water for Chocolate)

Image courtesy of The University of Texas at Austin.

For a magical realist escape from reality, Like Water for Chocolate is a fun and fantastical romp through Revolution-era Mexico. The film is based on the famous book by Laura Esquivel. Both book and movie follow a Northern Mexican family through trials of love and loyalty during the 1910s and beyond. The action is centered around food, as the protagonist is a jilted woman who pours all her repressed desires and feelings into elaborate meals. The movie will have your mouth watering for baroque Mexican dishes. (Enjoy them for real at El Cardenal once self-isolation ends!) It’s a little fluffy and melodramatic — and a hell of a lot of fun.

Like Water for Chocolate is available to rent on Amazon Prime.

4. Rojo Amanecer (Red Dawn)

Image courtesy of La Izquierda Diario.

Rojo Amanecer is no escapist flick. On the contrary, it’s one of the most important Mexican films in history, depicting a moment shrouded in darkness and controversy. When director Jorge Fons decided to make a film about the 1968 Tlatelolco Massacre, he was risking his own reputation and career. It takes place over the course of one infamous day. On October 2, 1968, the Mexican army and paramilitaries opened fire on student protesters and killed hundreds in Tlatelolco Square. This occurred just 10 days before the Mexico City Olympics.

The film follows a middle-class Mexican family living in an apartment on Tlatelolco Square. As the day begins, the family bickers and goes about their daily routines. By nightfall, all of them have witnessed a brutal, state-sponsored mass killing. Their ordinary domestic life has been shattered, and more bloodshed is to come before the dawn.

Despite filming Rojo Amanecer two decades after the massacre itself, Fons still faced government censorship that nearly derailed the project. He shot the movie secretly in a warehouse, unable to show the full extent of the day’s violence. As a result, the film takes place entirely in the family’s apartment. We don’t see the massacre and chaos in the plaza itself. Instead, we see only the horrified reactions of the family witnessing the killing from their high-rise window. The effect is powerful. We feel their fear, the oppressive claustrophobia as they are trapped inside, phone lines and electricity cut.

One family’s apartment becomes a microcosm of Mexican society on that fateful day, reflecting the paralysis and bitter conflict that ensued. The result is an important, necessary, and difficult entry into the lexicon of Mexican films.

Rojo Amanecer is available on Facebook here.

5. Roma

Image courtesy of Rome Central.

Roma came out to so much fanfare in 2018, from Oscar nominations (and wins) to feverish praise from Mexican and international critics. So when I watched it, my expectations were already sky high. As a result, I couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit let down by the much-hyped film. After all, almost no movie could live up to such high praise!

While Roma isn’t my favorite Mexican film, it is very well done, and certainly worth a watch. The movie is a beautifully-shot exploration of the life of Cleo, a domestic worker in 1970s Mexico City. Roma follows her life during a tumultuous period for Cleo, the family she works for, and the city itself. Set in black and white, the film looks back at director Alfonso Cuarón’s own childhood through the eyes of his beloved nanny (a fictionalized version of her, anyway).

My advice is to go into the film without expectations, and without reading reviews beforehand. Watch with subtitles — in Spanish, ideally. (The movie features a lot of obscure Mexico City slang terms and can be hard to follow for non-native speakers.) Finally, appreciate Roma‘s sensory details. No film captures the sounds of Mexico City better than this one. The street musicians, the trash-collector’s bell, the camotero’s whistle, the melodic and chaotic cacophony. For this alone, the film is worth a watch (and listen).

Roma is available to stream on Netflix.

6. Miss Bala

Image courtesy of Encadenados.

This Mexican thriller from Gerardo Naranjo is unsettlingly, ominously quiet. We’re used to fast-paced Hollywood action movies with slick dialogue and frequent explosions. Miss Bala, however, is more of an inaction movie. It makes the most of actress Stephanie Sigman’s expressive face as she tries to survive an impossible situation through passivity and acquiescence. Most rational people would probably have done the same.

There is no hero in Miss Bala. It’s a movie about the ways Mexico’s problem with organized crime and violence takes away ordinary peoples’ agency and voice. All of this is channelled through Laura Guerrero (Sigman), a young beauty pageant contestant who becomes unwittingly wrapped up in Northern Mexico’s organized crime. The film doesn’t provide easy answers or a satisfying resolution. Instead, it focuses on the gray areas between criminal and civilian, government and cartel, that arise with a weak and corrupt state. These shadows make for fascinating, thought-provoking film.

Miss Bala is available to rent on Amazon Prime. Moreover, be sure not to confuse it with the widely-derided 2019 Hollywood remake.

7. María Candelaria

Image courtesy of El Universal.

This 1944 film is the oldest on the list, hearkening back to Mexico’s Golden Age of Cinema. María Candelaria takes place in Xochimilco. (This agricultural canal region of Southern Mexico City is so iconic, it’s been named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.) Legendary Mexican actor and director Emilio “El Indio” Fernández filmed in Xochimilco itself. As a result, the area really becomes its own vital character.

The film follows María Candelaria, a young woman (played by beloved actress Dolores del Río) who lives on a flower-covered chinampa (island farm) in 1909. The setting certainly seems idyllic, almost dreamlike. But María’s mother was a prostitute, and the villagers treat María and her fiancé as pariahs. When a renowned painter becomes obsessed with María’s beauty, a tragic course of events is set into action.

Nowadays, Xochimilco is a part of Mexico City, its famous canals and chinampas much diminished. But in the 1940s, the area was still pristine, small villages sitting far outside the big city. The location serves as a symbol for all of rural Mexico right before the violent, destructive Revolution and 20th Century transformations. With spectacular music, setting, and cinematography, the film is a well-deserved giant in Mexican film history.

Watch María Candelaria on Facebook here.

8. Güeros

Image courtesy of Quique Ollvervides.

Imagine an old school road movie — filmed in black and white, nostalgic soundtrack, friends on an epic quest as they drive for hours down endless roads. Both Mexico and the U.S. have their fair share of road movies, with plenty of beautiful landscapes and desolates highways to film on either side of the border. Güeros takes this age-old movie formula, and twists it. Here, the kids set off on their road trip…and basically never leave Mexico City.

This “urban” road movie follows a group of young students navigate the never-ending streets, traffic, slums and highways and even farms of Mexico City metro area. A troubled tween is sent from coastal Veracruz to the capital to stay with his older brother in the capital. After they both become obsessed with finding an old, obscure Mexican rock-and-roll star, this improbable quest sends them all through the city. Above all, it’s a joy to watch them meander through the UNAM (National Autonomous University), Chapultepec Forest, the center, even Texcoco. The Mexican film is a sweet and pensive rumination on the passionate curiosity of youth, exploring the city as its own self-contained universe.

You can rent Güeros on YouTube.

Mexican Films: Honorable Mentions

There are several Mexican films that for whatever reason, I 1) Just didn’t connect with personally and found hard to watch, or 2) Haven’t had time to watch fully yet, but come highly recommended by friends and colleagues. These are those films.

Los Olvidados (The Young and the Damned):

Firstly, this midcentury classic by Luis Buñuel. Los Olvidados is considered as one of the only films in history to unflinchingly depict young, troubled delinquents. It is a sad, often brutal film to watch, but a fascinating and important look at rough young lives on the outskirts of Mexico City. It’s become part of the fabric and historic and 20th Century Mexican films.

Amores Perros:

Secondly comes Amores Perros, a surprisingly hard-to-watch popular film. Everyone loves this fast-paced early movie that subsequently propelled director Alejandro González Iñárritu into the spotlight. It traces several storylines around the capital city, exposing fault lines of class and identity. On the other hand, I just can’t stomach its depiction of dogfights and other suffering dogs…and that’s the whole theme of the movie.

Canoa:

This film depicts a horrific real-life event. In documentary style, it follows a group of students who became the victims of anti-communist fervor during a hiking trip. Canoa depicts the heady atmosphere of political fear and repression in 1970s Mexico. It’s simply not in the main list above because, well, I still need to see it!

Museo:

This is the second film from Alonso Ruizpalacios, director of Güeros. While it didn’t receive as much critical acclaim as his first film, Museo was praised for its unique style. The movie retells a stranger-than-fiction heist from the ’80s. Then, a couple of slacker students decided to rob hundreds of priceless Prehispanic artifacts from the National Anthropology Museum. Improbably, they succeeded.

In short, Mexico has been home to an incredibly rich, diverse film industry since the days of silent movies. Because of this, keep in mind that this guide is only a small taste of Mexican cinema heritage. Finally, write the Gringa’s Guide a message on Facebook with your recommendations on what else to watch!

Christmas in Mexico City: Piñatas, Ponche, & Posadas!

For a Minnesotan living in Mexico City, Christmas feels a little different these days. The snowstorms and cold of my childhood holiday seasons just don’t happen here! (No complaints: I love the chilly nights and crisp, sunny days of December in Mexico City.)

Nonetheless, there are subtle signs Christmas is coming to the metropolis. You’ll spot little old cars topped with giant, brightly colored piñatas — their seven shiny points reflecting the Seven Deadly Sins. On the weekends, families head south to Amecameca, chopping down their Christmas trees at farms in the shadow of two volcanoes. Bright lights and decorations grace businesses and homes around the city. Every office and friend group celebrates with a posada, a lively Mexican Christmas party.

Here, I’ll be sharing a guide to the best places and events to experience the holiday season in and around the city!

Reforma Avenue

Reforma, the elegant main avenue of Mexico City, is a beautiful place to walk and explore any time of the year. But December brings an especially festive air to the grand boulevard: poinsettias! City workers seasonally change the plants on Reforma from spring flowers to marigolds for Day of the Dead.

Just a tiny fragment of the grand avenue, lined with thousands of poinsettias.

This time of year, that means the stunning red poinsettia. These flowers are native to Mexico, going by the name nochebuenas (midnight flowers). Today, poinsettias are a popular Christmas decoration in the U.S. and elsewhere. Long ago, however, they were used for medicine and ritual purposes by the Aztecs (Mexica). Centuries ago, the flower was called cuetlaxochitl and symbolized purity. When the Spanish arrived to Mexico, they co-opted the poinsettia in the 17th Century as part of their Catholic Christmas celebrations.

Poinsettias don’t just grow in cultivated gardens. Native to Mexico, the nochebuenas spring up all over and grow to be several meters high, as in this Mixcoac courtyard.

While not everyone is aware of all this backstory, the end result of the nochebuena’s history is striking: thousands of blooms lining Reforma Avenue for miles! Take a morning stroll along the avenue from Chapultepec Park and ending at the Angel of Independence for the most iconic view of the poinsettias. There, you’ll find a sea of red flowers with the famed golden angel statue glinting in the background.

Mercado Jamaica

Piñatas and poinsettias are two hallmarks of the Mexican Christmas season. Many shops like this one get their wares from the cavernous Mercado Jamaica.

As Mexico City families gear up for the holidays, there’s a one-stop shop for all their Christmas decorations. In the U.S., this would be a superstore, like Target or Michael’s. But in Mexico City, there’s somewhere much better: the Mercado Jamaica! This legendary downtown market stretches on and on. Year-round, it forms the heart of the city’s flower trade, supplying thousands of blooms to both vendors and direct customers.

The holiday season brings a special feel to the market, as it fills up with poinsettias and other Christmas-y flowers, the walls and ceilings of many stands lined with festive piñatas. It really gets you in the spirit of the Mexican Christmas season!

Last year, Chapultepec Park even exhibited colorful piñatas made of plants and flowers!

Atlixco

A few hours outside Mexico City, Atlixco is one of the region’s loveliest pueblos mágicos (magic towns). Perched in the mountains of Puebla and overlooking the region’s two volcanoes, the colonial village has a wondrous setting year-round. Christmastime means one thing in Atlixco: the annual lights festival, called “La Villa Iluminada” (The Illuminated Village).

Atlixco’s light festival is legendary, drawing visitors from around the country.

From late November through January 6, the town comes alive with elaborate lights displays lining every plaza and historic street. I recommend staying in lovely Puebla City for a night, then heading out to Atlixco (a half hour away) for a day of exploring, culminating in the incredible lights displays. Check out my full guide to the “magic town” here, and be sure to visit the gorgeous fields of poinsettias nearby!

Visitors stroll and ice skate under the lights.

Pastorela

Mexico has many unique Christmas traditions, but one of the most iconic is the pastorela. This is basically a play depicting the nativity, but it might not be exactly what you read in the Bible. In this dramatized version, shepherds traveling to see Jesus have to confront the devil in order to continue. While the Spanish introduced this custom to Mexico during their evangelization efforts, it’s become a wholly Mexican form of cultural expression, combining Christian beliefs with indigenous traditions.

The pastorela is based on the nativity story…with plenty of creative flourishes. Similarly, you’ll find many natividades outside homes and churches around Christmas in Mexico City.

A fantastic place to experience a traditional pastorela is Tepotzotlan, an old-fashioned town north of Mexico City. The play is held in the courtyard of a stunning colonial museum, making for an atmospheric setting. Even better, you get the chance to participate in a Christmas posada as well! During the show, enjoy ponche, classic seasonal foods like buñuelos (sweet fritters), and piñata breaking. These piñatas are made out of clay, the way they were centuries ago.

Folkloric Ballet

Imagine watching a ballet performance with this view — Chapultepec Castle rises above Mexico City’s skyline.

Finally, during December and a bit of January, Mexico City’s lauded Ballet Folklórico puts on a spectacular show: Navidades en México (Christmas in Mexico). This dance performance features Christmas customs and celebrations from around the country. But most importantly, the setting is the famous Chapultepec Castle, the historic fortress perched above the city. Enjoy panoramic views of Mexico City while you drink in the sheer diversity of Mexican traditions, centered around this one holiday.

Pilgrimage of the Bird-Sellers: A Tradition of Semana Santa in Mexico City

Mexico offers many of the most vivid, lively, and passionate Holy Week celebrations in the world. This holiday week, called Semana Santa in Mexico City and around the country, forms the week before Easter Sunday. It’s one of the most important holidays of the year in Mexico, a heavily Catholic country, and it shows. I began my Holy Week celebrations on Palm Sunday with a unique pilgrimage to the Basilica of Guadalupe. Every Palm Sunday, hundreds of pajareros, the traditional bird-sellers of Mexico, come from around the country to this famous basilica to bless their birds and businesses. The result is a surreal, unimaginably vivid sight.

The bird-sellers wait to enter the basilica for mass.

Palm Sunday at the Basilica of Guadalupe

The centuries-old Basilica of Guadalupe draws millions of pilgrims every year to worship Mexico’s Virgin of Guadalupe. I’ll have to do a post soon on the Basilica itself; there is too much to explain here! It’s the site where the Virgin of Guadalupe appeared to Juan Diego, an indigenous convert, in colonial times. Today, 12 million people come every year to behold the manta, the blanket, on which the Virgin’s image miraculously appeared. Palm Sunday was lively with worshippers from all over, including several I met from the Ivory Coast, and a group of Mexican cowboys who had ridden there on horseback.

The Basilica of Guadalupe is lively with worshippers on Palm Sunday.

The Basilica and the Bird-Sellers: A Mini-History

But for decades, Palm Sunday has meant one thing for the basilica: the pajareros, the bird-sellers. Over a century ago, there were thousands of bird-sellers all around the country, and one, they say, on every street corner in Mexico City. In colorful cages, they sold domestic and wild-caught songbirds, from parakeets to robins — popular pets at the time. This year (2019) marked the 77th anniversary of the bird-sellers’ pilgrimage to the basilica.

The pajareros create elaborately decorated bird cages to be blessed.

Today, songbirds are much less popular, and especially amid increased awareness for animal rights, the bird-sellers are slowly dying out. But this traditional profession lives on for some families, who have passed it down through the generations. On Palm Sunday, they arrive from throughout the country, walking up the long Calzada de Guadalupe until they arrive at the Basilica. Their colorful, incredibly tall cages strapped to their backs, birdsong fills the air.

Bird-selling is a long-standing tradition throughout Mexico, though it’s greatly declining these days.

The Ethics of Bird-Selling

Now, let’s get this out of the way: I don’t condone this kind of bird-selling, especially of those that are wild-caught. The birds are not for sale on Palm Sunday — the bird-sellers are forbidden from selling them in the Basilica grounds. But regardless, I have very mixed feelings about this practice in the modern-day.

Many pajareros bring photos of their parents or grandparents, to honor them and the family tradition.

That said, no matter what you think of its ethics, bird-selling has played an important traditional role in Mexico. I met families who’d brought their babies with them, strapping a tiny cage onto his back with tiny toy birds inside. Four generations of bird-sellers in the family were represented there, and others had placed photos of their deceased fathers, bird-sellers themselves, as a touching tribute on the cages.

Many families have passed on this calling for several generations.

The Artistry of the Pajareros

On top of all that, the artistry, passion, and creativity the pajareros put into these 10-foot-tall cages is unbelievable. You couldn’t imagine a more surreal scene: with an explosion of color and song all around, I couldn’t help but feel joy at that aspect of the pilgrimage. Pajareros paint every cage vividly and decorate them with thousands of flowers. These must have taken their creators a long time to make. Of all the celebrations I saw during Semana Santa in Mexico City, this was perhaps the most unique.

I know why the caged bird sings — this complicated practice invokes mixed emotions.

Finally, all this to say: it’s complicated. It made me sad to see many, many kinds of birds in cages, from exotic ones to common songbirds I’ve seen free in my Midwest backyard. There’s no getting around that. But I also appreciate the beautiful aspects of this long-standing tradition, especially the bird-sellers’ remarkable creativity. At the end of the day, I reserve my full judgement, because this is a way of life, and a way to make a living, for families who have passed this job from father to son, and mother to daughter. Do I hope songbird-selling continues, anywhere in the world? Probably not. But I hope this beautiful pilgrimage finds a way to survive and adapt, as societal values shift and evolve.

It’s easy to head north in Mexico City and visit La Villa, where the basilica sits.

How to See the Pajarero’s Pilgrimage

When:

This event takes place on Palm Sunday, which of course will vary every year. In fact, this day marks the beginning of Semana Santa in Mexico City. The Spanish name for the Catholic holiday is Domingo de Ramos. The pajareros get together in the morning, starting around 9 or 10 AM, but they don’t arrive at the basilica until around noon. That’s when I recommend arriving at the basilica to see them.

Pilgrims come from around the world to worship the Virgin of Guadalupe at the basilica.

Where:

The pajareros begin at the Glorieta de Peralvillo, a roundabout where the Calzada de Guadalupe begins. This is the long avenue that leads up to the Basilica de Guadalupe, and where pilgrims walk to the basilica. It’s a long walk, and I recommend you go straight to the basilica to see them. You can tell any cab or Uber driver “Basilica de Guadalupe”, and they’ll take you there — around 25 minutes from downtown, way to the north. The red Line 6 of the metro goes straight there, to the Basilica stop; or take the more centric green Line 3 to the Deportivo 18 de Marzo stop, and walk east for 10 mins to get there. The green line 7 of the Metrobus (the big red buses you’ll see in cordoned-off areas of major avenues) also goes there, getting off at the Garrido Stop.

Another touching tribute to a relative who’s passed away.

Above all, this is a day about tradition, creative expression, and family ties. It was clear to me that many bird-sellers were passionate about their professions, and took care of their small charges. Whether you find this tradition charming or outdated, it’s a memorable and fascinating experience. Most of all, this experience gave me insight into the complex contradictions of modern Mexico.

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