Author: Carlos Rosado van der Gracht

  • Tequila Jalisco Was Abandoned by Tourists. Now it Hopes to Win Them Back

    Tequila Jalisco Was Abandoned by Tourists. Now it Hopes to Win Them Back

    Tequila, the world-famous spirit that gives its name to the town of Tequila, Jalisco, with this name being nearly synonymous with Mexico.

    The town of Tequila in Jalisco, Mexico, was once a major tourist destination. People came from all over the world to see the agave fields and learn how the famous libation is made. They would come by train on the famous Tequila Express or by busloads from nearby cities like Guadalajara. 

    But in recent years, the number of tourists dropped sharply. Residents say organized crime has been a problem for a long time. The criminals moved through the town openly, and the nearby mountains made it easy for them to operate. 

    The agave field and tequila distilleries that tourists once came to see were targeted by organized crime and abuses of power by government officials. The Jose Cuervo company, one of the largest tequila producers, filed a lawsuit over what they called extortion money dressed up as property taxes that were 20 times higher than the legal rate. They also faced a fine of more than 5 million dollars. 

    In early February 2026, federal authorities arrested the mayor of Tequila, Diego Rivera. They also arrested the town’s security director and the heads of public works and land registry. Officials say these leaders worked with the Jalisco New Generation Cartel to extort money from tequila and beer producers. The government says the group also stole public money.

    Following the arrest, the state government quickly put plans in place to bring tourism back. Governor Pablo Lemus visited the main plaza and announced a large investment of 500 million pesos for the year 2026.

    A major part of the plan is security. The governor promised that extortion in Tequila must stop. He said that 200 state police officers, along with the Mexican Army and the National Guard, will stay in the town permanently. He asked tequila companies, hotel owners, and agave farmers to invest again, promising them that their money would be safe.

    The government is also spending money on buildings and roads. Plans are also underway to remodel the main streets and the historic center. Another major project is the National Tequila Museum. It had been closed because the previous mayor tried to turn it into a private residence. The state government promised to reopen it with a new exhibition before the 2026 FIFA World Cup.

    The town will also get more promotion to attract visitors from Mexico and other countries. The governor said the previous administration stopped cultural events. Now, the state plans to hold concerts and activities to bring life back to the town.

    The interim mayor, Lorena Marisol Rodríguez Rivera, is working with the state government. Officials held meetings with teachers, shop owners, religious leaders, and farmers to make sure the plans help everyone. The governor stated his goal clearly: to help Tequila recover its beauty and its visitors.

    All About Tequila

    Long before the Spanish arrived, the native peoples of Mexico, such as the Mexica, made a drink from the agave plant. They fermented the sweet sap of the agave to make a beverage called pulque. They used this drink in religious ceremonies. This practice dates back to around 1000 B.C.

    Everything changed in the 1500s when Spanish conquistadors came to Mexico. They ran out of their own brandy. To make a new alcoholic drink, they used European distillation methods on the local agave plant. This was the birth of mezcal, the first distilled spirit from the Americas. The town of Tequila, located in the state of Jalisco, became a central hub for this new spirit. By the early 1600s, the Marquis of Altamira built the first large-scale distillery there. In 1758, the Cuervo family started making tequila, followed by the Sauza family in 1873. 

    Tequila
    A jimador is a laborer specialized in harvesting agave for tequila or mezcal production, using a long wooden pole with a sharp disc at the end known as a coa de jima.

    Today, the rules for tequila are very strict. It has a Denomination of Origin, just like Champagne. This means tequila can only be legally produced in five specific states of Mexico: Jalisco, Guanajuato, Michoacán, Nayarit, and Tamaulipas. The vast majority comes from Jalisco. To be called tequila, the spirit must be made from at least 51% blue Weber agave. The best tequilas are labeled “100% de agave,” meaning they use only that plant and no added sugars. If it is made from this same agave plant but outside of these five Mexican states, it cannot be called tequila. It is usually just labeled as an agave spirit or mezcal.

    For tequila, the agave hearts, called piñas, are steamed or baked in large ovens above ground. For mezcal, the piñas are roasted in underground pits that are lined with hot rocks. This underground roasting gives mezcal its strong, signature smoky flavor. Tequila generally has a cleaner, earthier taste with notes of citrus and cooked agave.

  • El Insurgente; CDMX – Toluca Train Is a Game Changer for Commuters

    El Insurgente; CDMX – Toluca Train Is a Game Changer for Commuters

    For years, the daily commute between Mexico City and Toluca has been long and exhausting. The roads, especially the highway, are often congested. The distance of  60 kilometers (37 miles) can take hours. 

    This problem affects tens of thousands of people every day—students, workers, and families. Now, after a very long wait, a new solution has arrived. 

    The Mexico-Toluca Interurban Train, called ‘El Insurgente,’ is finally fully open. This project took 12 years and three presidential terms to be completed. On February 2, President Claudia Sheinbaum inaugurated the last 8.4 kilometers. This final section links the Santa Fe to the Observatorio Metro station in Mexico City.

    El Insurgente’s goal is simple but important: to connect the Toluca Metropolitan Area with the western part of Mexico City. This connection aims to improve regional mobility at scale. 

    Most impressively, El Insurgente can transport 140,000 passengers per day, operating with 20 trains, each with a capacity of 719 passengers (326 seated).

    Why El Insurgente is a Big Deal

    El Insurgente provides a reliable, predictable, and safe alternative to cars and buses stuck in traffic. The train covers a total distance of 58 kilometers. It is not just a link between two major cities. It also connects to the Observatorio station, which is a major transportation hub for Mexico City’s Metro and bus networks. This makes it easy for people to continue their journey.

    On El Insurgente, the full route takes roughly 50 minutes as the train’s dedicated tracks mean it is not affected by road traffic. This saves people hours every day, and the need to leave home for work or school as early as 4 a.m. to guarantee arriving on time. 

    How the Train Works

    The train has seven stations along its route: Zinacantepec, Toluca Centro, Metepec, Lerma, Santa Fe, Vasco de Quiroga, and Observatorio. Trains run often, about every 10 to 15 minutes. This means people don’t have to wait long for the next one. The service hours are long to help early birds and night owls. From Monday to Friday, it runs from 5 in the morning until midnight. On Saturdays, it starts at 6 a.m., and on Sundays at 7 a.m., both running until midnight. The last train leaves Zinacantepec at 11 p.m., and the last one leaves Observatorio at midnight.

    El Insurjente’s Fair Fare System

    The cost of tickets on El Insurgente depends on the number of stations travelled, with short trips within the State of Mexico or within Mexico City costing 15 pesos, and the full trip from terminal to terminal, Zinacantepec to Observatorio or back, costs 100 pesos. When we consider the cost of gas, tolls, car maintenance, and the value of time saved, this fare is an outright bargain for most commuters.

    “Honestly, I would be happy to pay twice as much. Travel via bus is a nightmare and incredibly unsafe. And taking the car is out of the question,” said Toluca resident Manuel Escovedo.

    How to Ride

    To use El Insurgente, commuters need a Tarjeta de Movilidad Integrada (Integrated Mobility Card), or TUMI. This card is personal and cannot be shared. You can buy it and add money at the stations. You tap the card when you enter and tap again when you leave the station. This system automatically calculates the correct fare based on where you started and ended your trip. Riders are responsible for their own card and its balance. The train authority notes that if the card is lost or stolen, it cannot be replaced free of charge.

    Part of a Larger Trend

    El Insurgente joins other new public transit programs designed to make life in Mexico City’s metro area more livable. Other examples include CDMX’s Cablébus expansion, the ever-growing Metrobus network, light rail, and one of the world’s largest Metro systems

  • Mexico’s Fracking Reversal: Why President Sheinbaum Changed Course

    Mexico’s Fracking Reversal: Why President Sheinbaum Changed Course

    The decision by the government of President Claudia Sheinbaum to permit fracking is not merely a minor policy change. It signals a willingness to prioritize practical economic results over long-held ideological promises, including those of her predecessor and political ally, Andrés Manuel López Obrador. 

    For a country that relies heavily on imported gas and has a state oil company, Pemex, in financial trouble, this debate is now about real-world governance.

    The issue is particularly sensitive because it strikes at the heart of the political project that brought Sheinbaum to power. For years, rejecting fracking was a key environmental and ethical symbol for the ruling party, beyond just its economic feasibility. Reopening this door means accepting internal political costs and acknowledging that the new government’s early stages will involve uncomfortable decisions that break from the promise of pure continuity.

    What Is Fracking?

    Fracking, or hydraulic fracturing, is a method to extract oil and natural gas from deep underground. It involves drilling vertically and then horizontally into shale rock formations. A high-pressure mixture of water, sand, and chemicals is then injected to fracture the rock and release the trapped hydrocarbons, which flow back to the surface.

    Fracking is legal in many countries, including the United States, Australia, and Canada. However, it’s countries like France, Germany, and the Netherlands that have enacted national bans. But it’s not only wealthy European countries that have banned the practice; South Africa, Bangladesh, Uruguay, and Tunisia, among many others, have also closed the door to it. 

    Why Is Fracking So Controversial?

    Environmental and public health groups strongly oppose fracking due to several documented risks:

    • The process of hydraulic fracturing uses large volumes of water and generates wastewater that can contaminate groundwater with chemicals and naturally occurring radioactive materials.
    • Methane leaks from fracking, extraction, and transport can undermine climate goals.
    • Fracking is associated with air pollution, heavy truck traffic, and community disruption.
    • The injection of wastewater into deep disposal wells has been linked, though not conclusively, to increased seismic activity.

    Political Costs and Redefining the Path

    Beyond the immediate political noise, this episode marks a turning point in Sheinbaum’s leadership style. The decision to proceed, even without complete consensus, suggests a leader willing to tolerate internal friction to preserve decision-making capacity. 

    The practical message is clear: the government’s stability will not rest solely on ideological loyalty, but on its effectiveness in securing energy, investment, and economic functioning.

    This is not just about an extraction technique, but about defining priorities in a context of real constraints. If the government can manage the resulting tensions without paralyzing its agenda, it will have consolidated its authority. If it cannot, the cost could weaken the ruling coalition and the narrative of transformation it is still trying to redefine.

  • The Contentious ‘Water Debt’ Between Mexico and the US

    The Contentious ‘Water Debt’ Between Mexico and the US

    The “water debt” between Mexico and the United States is a recurring and deeply contentious issue. It is not merely a technical matter of water management but also a source of political tension and public anger that taps into feelings of national pride and sovereignty.

    The Core of the Water Debt Conflict

    A 1944 treaty governs the situation. This agreement is vital for both countries. It requires the U.S. to release a specified amount of water from the Colorado River downstream to Mexico. In return, Mexico must send water from the Rio Grande’s tributaries to the U.S. The water from the Rio Grande is crucial for farmers in South Texas.

    The treaty sets delivery cycles. Every five years, Mexico must deliver an average of 350,000 acre-feet of water per year from Mexican tributaries like the Conchos River to the Rio Grande. If Mexico falls behind, it is said to have a deficit — a water debt.

    The conflict is sharpest in northern Mexico, particularly in the state of Chihuahua. Farmers and residents in the area are experiencing a severe water crisis. Their reservoirs are at historically low levels, crops are failing, and cities face strict rationing. When the Mexican federal government, following the 1944 treaty, releases water from these dwindling reservoirs to send to the United States, it is met with fierce resistance.

    Local farmers and activists have repeatedly taken direct action. They have occupied dams, blocked highways, and physically stopped water releases. They argue it is unjust and unsustainable to send vital water north while their own communities suffer. For them, the “debt” is an abstract concept that threatens their livelihoods and survival.

    The Mexican Political Divide

    This puts Mexican politicians in a difficult position, caught between international law and domestic pressure. Governors and local officials from affected northern states often lead the opposition. They frame the water releases as a betrayal of their people to fulfill an outdated treaty. They argue that national sovereignty entails prioritizing Mexican citizens, particularly during a drought not experienced when the treaty was signed 80 years ago.

    The federal administration has emphasized that, independently of the fairness of the accord, Mexico is a nation that honors its legal commitments. Failing to meet the treaty obligations could lead to serious diplomatic and legal repercussions from the United States, including potential lawsuits in international courts or retaliatory measures. The government states it is working to balance its duties and manage water as efficiently as possible, but it must uphold the law.

    Ordinary Mexicans: Anger and a Sense of Injustice

    For many ordinary Mexicans, especially in the north, the issue fuels a sense of injustice. There is a widespread perception that Mexico is being forced to give up a precious resource to its wealthy and powerful neighbor during a time of shared scarcity. The narrative often framed in local media is, “Why should we sacrifice our water for American farmers when our own people are thirsty?”

    A broader historical context of perceived U.S. dominance amplifies this sentiment. The water debt is widely viewed as an unequal relationship, in which Mexico is compelled to comply despite severe domestic costs. It feels less like a partnership and more like an imposition.

  • Mexico’s Struggle for Time: The Battle Over a 40-Hour Workweek

    Mexico’s Struggle for Time: The Battle Over a 40-Hour Workweek

    For millions of Mexicans, the workday begins before sunrise and ends long after dark. The idea of clocking out after eight hours can feel like a distant dream. This is why a proposal to change Mexico’s official workweek from 48 to 40 hours has ignited one of the country’s most heated political debates in years. 

    The initiative also aims to strictly enforce the payment of overtime as a fundamental right to improve the quality of life in a nation known for its grueling work culture.

    Currently, Mexican law defines the maximum workweek as 48 hours, spread over six days. While the law mandates double pay for hours beyond this, unpaid overtime is the norm in practice, especially in informal and low-wage jobs. 

    The proposed reform would establish 40 hours over five days as the new standard, with any time beyond that paid at 100% overtime from the first extra hour, rising to 200% after nine extra hours. Supporters argue that these standards would align Mexico with global standards, but opponents warn that it could cripple businesses.

    Some new workplace rules have been implemented, such as the ley silla (chair law), which recognizes workers’ right to sit during their workday, but only if their duties permit it without interfering with normal operations. But the rule has become somewhat of a joke online, with thousands of social media posts pictured partially broken plastic chairs cordoned off with tape, sign-in sheets, and, in many cases, even cameras to make employees feel watched. The message sent by employers is clear: we will comply with the law, but not with its spirit.”

    The controversy is fierce because it strikes at the heart of Mexico’s economic model. On one side are the supporters: labor unions and a growing number of young professionals. The issue is framed as one of dignity, health, and family. They point to data showing that long hours lead to burnout, stress-related illness, and less time for family and community. Advocates of reform also argue that a shorter week could actually boost productivity, as seen in other countries, and create more jobs by forcing employers to hire additional staff to cover shifts.

    Frustration is especially loud among young workers who have formed social media communities explicitly about poor working conditions. One example is the subreddit r/lacamiseta, which draws on the expression “ponte la camiseta,” which roughly means to be a team player. The subreddit is full of photos and videos of terrible work environments, stories of crazy or illegal requests from employers, and plenty of comment threads about government betrayal over the unfulfilled promise of the 40-hour workweek. 

    Arrayed against workers’ interests are powerful business groups, particularly representing small and medium-sized businesses, which form the backbone of the Mexican economy. Their opposition is grounded in fear of cost. They argue that a sudden shift to a 40-hour workweek, with its strict overtime rules, would dramatically increase payroll expenses. Chambers of commerce argue that companies would be forced to cut jobs, reduce salaries, or even close down. They contend that Mexico’s economy, still developing and competing with lower-wage countries, cannot absorb such a shock without severe consequences. The debate is often framed as workers’ well-being versus business survival.

    The urgency of this reform becomes clear when Mexico’s work habits are compared internationally. According to the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), Mexican workers log some of the longest average annual hours in the world, consistently ranking near the top, far above countries like Germany, France, or even the United States. Yet this immense investment of time does not translate into proportional economic productivity or higher wages for most people.

    Compounding this issue is Mexico’s paltry vacation allowance. By law, a first-year worker is entitled to only six paid vacation days, with that number increasing slowly with seniority. This is among the lowest statutory minimums in the OECD, where the average is around 20 days. When combined with the long workweek, it paints a picture of a workforce with precious little time for rest, leisure, or personal life.

    Beyond the immediate debate, the 40-hour workweek proposal opens the door to broader conversations. One is the vast informal economy, where over half of Mexican workers labor without contracts or legal protections. 

    Any new law would be difficult to enforce in this sector, potentially widening the gap between formal and informal workers. According to the latest data from Mexico’s national statistics agency, INEGI, approximately 54.6% of the country’s workforce is engaged in informal labor in the first quarter of 2024. This figure translates to roughly 32.5 million people out of a total employed population of about 59.5 million. 

    INEGI defines informal employment broadly, encompassing workers in unregistered businesses and employees by formal companies who pay them “under the table,” thereby denying them access to programs such as social security, pension contributions, and housing credits. This last group highlights that informality can exist even within otherwise legal businesses. 

    Another idea is a more gradual transition, perhaps reducing the workweek to 45 hours first, to allow businesses time to adapt. Some also argue for linking the reform to more vigorous enforcement of existing labor laws, as without robust inspection systems, even a 40-hour law could be ignored.