For the second time in less than three years, Guadalajara’s urban agriculture community is mobilizing against proposed regulations they say criminalize planting in public space and threaten long-standing agroecological practices across the city.

At last month’s International Book Fair in Guadalajara (FIL), amid Expo Guadalajara’s crowded aisles and the buzz of new releases, the story of a small rural town in the Altos de Jalisco reclaimed the spotlight — carried, once again, by the voices of women.

On December 7, the Mexican Institute for Community Development (IMDEC) presented “Tres experiencias de lucha en tiempos de despojo y resistencia,” a book that documents three emblematic struggles against extractive megaprojects in Mexico. But the heart of the presentation was Temacapulínand the women who refused to let their town be erased by the Zapotillo dam.

As we hang up our 2026 calendars, it seems a perfect time to recall that Mexico’s ancient ancestors long ago devised a remarkably accurate calendar system, closely approximating the modern calculation of Earth’s annual rotation around the Sun.

As with other major Mexican celebrations—most notably Independence Day, which peaks on the night of September 15—the focal point of Christmas is Nochebuena, the eve of December 24. Key festivities commence then, when families gather for the Christmas meal and adults often open presents—frequently brought by El Niño Dios (the Child Jesus) rather than Santa Claus.

The United States government has slid into fascism, says a group of Guadalajara-based musicians, and they want you to know it. 

As mid-December approaches, a familiar anticipation builds across Mexico. Employees in the formal sector, as well as domestic and many part-time workers, are counting down to December 20, the legal deadline for employers to pay the aguinaldo — a mandatory Christmas bonus of at least 15 days’ wages.