Trains rumbled overhead at Zapopan Centro station as vendors laid out honey, coffee, potted plants, handmade jewelry and clothing beneath the tracks, turning a busy transit center into a hub of homegrown, regenerative culture called the Festival de la Tierra. Over three days, hundreds of passersby stepped off the station stairway into a compact but dense gathering of workshops, ceremonies, performances and a “Solidarity Economy” street market that organizers describe as “a small spark made with a lot of heart and enthusiasm” for the Earth.

What the festival is

Now in its ninth year, The Festival de la Tierra is organized by a collective of collectives that has reshaped the event since the pandemic into a year‑round process, with activities tied to dates like the Aztec New Year on March 11-12 and International Earth Day on April 22.

Co‑founder Javier Reyes Rodríguez Curiel, who collaborates with the Escuela Campesina and the Mexican Institute for Community Development (IMDEC), said the November gathering in Zapopan marks the end of a nine-month process, spread across different locations.

He described the site under the train lines as a strategic place where small‑scale producers can meet an urban public in motion: three days where artisans, food producers, and land defenders converge at a human scale, even as “more than 300 people per hour” stream through the station.

Please login or subscribe to view the complete article.

Tonalá’s Paseo de los Guardianes de la Reina became a corridor of ceremony and artisanry this weekend as dancers, healers and families gathered for the Primera Expo de Espiritualidad Te Deum—a new festival blending Catholic and Indigenous traditions in a celebration of community identity and spiritual renewal.

Much has been written about “Dr. Atl,” the influential and Leonardo-esque artist born Gerardo Murillo in Guadalajara in 1875. John Pint wrote an excellent article in this newspaper in 2022, celebrating Dr. Atl’s birthday on October 3, and using good sources. 

Community leaders, academics, activists and legislators met last week in the Jalisco State Congress to challenge Mexico’s proposed reform to its National Water Law, warning that it would deepen rather than dismantle privatization of the nation’s water.

The huge bronze snake head displayed under trees near the soaring “Imolacion de Quetzalcoatl” in Guadalajara’s Plaza Tapatia actually belongs on top of the imposing, twisted snake sculpture that sits in the center of a nearby fountain. “It represents a failure,” says my guide, Alexandra Duncan.

The applause echoed through the vaulted halls of the Centro Cultural El Refugio in Tlaquepaque as 18 women stepped onto the stage, one by one, to receive their plaques of recognition. Each name carried its own story — of perseverance, innovation, and care — together forming a living portrait of the theme chosen by the Instituto Electoral y de Participación Ciudadana (IEPC) de Jalisco for this year’s Reconocimiento al Affidamento: “Confianza que transforma, redes que sostienen” — Trust that transforms, networks that sustain.