The streets were still half-asleep when the first drumbeats rolled down Avenida Vallarta, echoing off the shuttered storefronts and apartment balconies. One by one, the dancers appeared out of the darkness — plumes of red, turquoise and gold swaying in rhythm, the sharp scent of copal mixing with the early-morning chill. Metal barrels mounted on wheels served as drums, their deep, insistent pulse carrying the heartbeat of a city on pilgrimage.

At 82, Mikel Miller has quite a career behind him. As a kid in Missouri, he dove into journalism using his grandfather’s typewriter. He went on to report for United Press International from the Louisiana state capitol at the height of the U.S. civil rights movement, worked in the federal government and more. Later, in Ajijic and Guadalajara, he helped writers edit and publish independently, including Dr. Michael Hogan and his book “Lincoln and Mexico,” for which Miller enthusiastically helped marshal recognition and sales. 

Many adults associate learning a second language with years of unpleasant effort in a classroom, struggling with grammar and vocabulary. But things may be changing, as seen in the experiences of two young men who surged to fluency—one in English and one in Spanish—on the wings of new technology, and apparently taking delight in the challenge.

When Tran Dang is asked why her nonprofit is called The Rhizome Center for Migrants, she doesn’t hesitate.

“Rhizomes sprout more roots and more shoots in unexpected ways. A rhizome symbolizes growth that has no origin or end. It represents, for us, resilience across borders and interconnected journeys.”

For Tran, founder and director of The Rhizome Center for Migrants, the rhizome is the perfect metaphor for the people she serves: people returned and deported who must navigate complex realities of life in Mexico after being uprooted from the United States. Like rhizomes, they survive by adapting, surviving, and forming networks in nonlinear ways.

With tariffs and trade in the spotlight globally, last weekend’s Expo Auto Estrenos seemed a bellwether of the auto industry in Mexico. President Claudia Sheinbaum just announced a move, still unapproved by Congress, to raise tariffs to a whopping 50 percent on imports of Chinese and some other Asian cars, car parts and various products. 

The scent of sizzling pupusas and hot tamales mingled with the smoky tang of pho-seasoned chicken wings. Music spilled into the courtyard of a 400-year-old monastery-turned-Secretariat of Culture headquarters in downtown Guadalajara, where a crowd gathered beneath colorful banners. On stage, a Chicano rapper who goes by Wombay welcomed the audience with a freestyle, his rhymes weaving between English and Spanish. Around him, stalls brimmed with Cuban, Salvadoran, Peruvian, Indian, Vietnamese, Palestinian, and Mexican dishes.

This was the 3rd Feria Gastronómica y Cultural, held on September 21 to mark the World Day of Migrants and Refugees. Organized by The Rhizome Center for Migrants, the festival brought together more than 30 chefs, artisans, musicians, and community leaders, each one carrying a story of migration, resilience, and belonging.