By Leopoldo Gomez Diaz
The author is a retired Engineer from Mexico City who studied and taught at the National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) and worked for 40 years at the Mexican Petroleum Institute.
He also earned a Master’s degree from Cambridge University and a Ph.D. in Management from Mexico City. He
has been in California since 2016. He enjoys writing essays, studying English, learning Metaphysics, reading novels, hearing music, playing soccer, and drinking early coffee.
Mexican culture is a vibrant, deeply rooted tapestry shaped by a rich blend of ancient Indigenous traditions and Spanish heritage. Mexico celebrates its culture through religious festivals, Indigenous traditions, national holidays, carnivals, regional fairs, music, dance, and food. Many celebrations are rooted in local history, so they offer a wonderful way to understand the diversity of Mexican identity.
Mexico does not celebrate every tradition in the same way everywhere. The food, music, costumes, religious practices, and even the dates of some events vary by region and year. That diversity is part of what makes Mexican culture so rich.
What does Mexico mean to me?
Mexico is not only the country where I was born. It is the culture woven into who I am. It is my family, my people, my childhood, my memories, my favorite flavors and aromas, and many of the most important lessons I learned throughout my life—from home, the streets of my neighborhood, to the university and beyond.
Mexico is where I learned about solidarity, teamwork, courage, alertness, and the simple joy of simple things, where I learned the meaning of friendship and how to be a good friend; It is also where I faced uncertainty and learned to live with it—even without certainties, yet often with confidence. I can say that all of this was learned and enjoyed through our Mexican customs and traditions, which are wonderfully expressed not only in festivities, celebrations, carnavales, and feats, but also in everyday life.
Mexico is where I learned that happiness can be found not only in parties and celebrations, but also in the ordinary moments of everyday life.
Mexico is much more than my country. It is an essential part of who I am. It is part of my essence.
Mexican Traditions
What Mexico Taught Me About Life Through My Ancestors
Family
Family in Mexico means a close and lasting bond among grandparents, parents, children, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and extended family. Family members stand by one another in difficult times, celebrations, and everyday life.
Family is about affection, friendship, support, teamwork, shared adventures, laughter, and learning across generations. It is knowing that there are people who are there for you—not only when you need them, but simply because you belong together.
The Kitchen
Ah, the kitchen! In my family, it was much more than a place to cook. It was the heart of the home.
Filled with aromas, music, conversations, laughter, and opinions, the kitchen was where we talked about almost everything while preparing our meals. Chopping onions, garlic, tomatoes, cilantro, chiles, and other ingredients became opportunities to share our joys, frustrations, achievements, and everyday challenges.
It was also a place of learning. Family members shared experiences, offered advice, solved problems, and passed knowledge from one generation to another.
The Dining Room and After-Dinner Conversation
In Mexico, dinner does not necessarily end when the plates are cleared. Sometimes, that is when the most interesting part begins.
The dining table becomes a place for conversation, where everyone can share an opinion, tell a story, express a concern, or offer advice. On weekends, these conversations can last for hours. We talk about family memories, jokes, everyday life, politics, and sometimes a little gossip.
There is no hurry. We simply enjoy being together, listening, talking, and learning from one another. These moments strengthen family bonds and connect different generations.
Having dinner at home is like sharing a candlelight dinner—not for two, but for the whole family.
The Mexican Happy Hour
The Mexican happy hour at home, La Hora del Amigo, might begin around two in the afternoon, especially on weekends. It is not simply a time to have a drink; it is an opportunity to slow down, relax, and enjoy each other’s presence—even in comfortable silence.
A few drinks might be accompanied by simple botanas—peanuts, chips, guacamole, salsa, quesadillas, or whatever is available. Someone puts on some music, and the conversation begins. Before long, stories from childhood, family memories, jokes, and everyday experiences become part of the afternoon.
There is no strict schedule and no hurry to leave. The Mexican happy hour is less about drinking and more about creating time for one another. It is a small celebration of friendship, family, hospitality, and the simple pleasure of being together.
Sometimes, the best moments in life are not planned. They happen when we slow down and make room for each other.
The Wisdom of Mexican Mothers
In the traditional Mexican family, parents, especially mothers—often play a central role in guiding their children. Grandparents, when present, also contribute their experience, stories, and wisdom.
I have always believed that Mexican mothers possess a special kind of wisdom. They seem to sense what is happening even when nothing is said. They listen not only with their ears, but also with their hearts. Looking back, I realize that many of the most important lessons in my life came from women.
Esperanza, the mother who raised me, was a wonderful example of the traditional Mexican mother of her generation. Although she had only an elementary-school education, she taught our family values that have remained with me throughout my life: resilience, compassion, empathy, gratitude, kindness, generosity, honesty, responsibility, and determination.
After my father passed away, she had to fulfill both parental roles. She faced this responsibility with remarkable strength. She was hardworking, wise, loving, and an excellent counselor. Rather than simply giving me answers, she often asked thoughtful and challenging questions that encouraged me to think for myself.
She also founded and managed La Fe, our small family convenience store on Triángulo Street. One by one, my siblings and I worked there, learning responsibility, discipline, teamwork, schedules, and how to manage money. Trips to La Merced, the huge market in Mexico City, taught us additional lessons about patience, negotiation, self-reliance, and recognizing quality products.
Looking back, I realize that La Fe was much more than a family business. It was our first school of life, with a twenty-four-hour teacher at home.
From Mothers to Grandmothers
As mothers become grandmothers, their wisdom and capacity for love often seem to grow even deeper. The relationship between grandparents and grandchildren can become a special bond that combines affection, friendship, and shared memories.
This was true of the relationship between Esperanza and my two sons. They were very close, almost like good friends. Their bond began when they were babies and continued throughout their lives. They traveled together to Guadalajara and Puerto Vallarta, shared experiences, and cared deeply for one another until her passing in 2012.
My wife represents another expression of motherhood. With a very different educational background, she devoted herself to encouraging our two sons to study, develop their abilities, and do their best. She taught them discipline, responsibility, and perseverance. She did the same with our three grandchildren.
Mexican mothers, like many others from my family, show that there is no single way to be a mother.
Wisdom can come through education, experience, intuition, sacrifice, love, and example. What matters most is what we pass on to the next generation.
Legends
Legends show another side of Mexican culture: imagination, fear, spirituality, family stories, and the way oral traditions are passed from one generation to another. Every culture has stories that explain what people fear, what they love, and what they cannot fully explain. Legends can be viewed as part of Mexico’s cultural memory, where Indigenous traditions, colonial history, Catholic beliefs, and popular imagination became intertwined.
Mexico has an extraordinary collection of legends that have traveled from generation to generation, changing a little with every storyteller. Some are frightening, some romantic, and others mysterious. But behind many of them there is something more important: a piece of Mexican memory.
La Llorona is probably the most famous. The basic story tells of a woman who wanders at night, usually near rivers, canals, or other bodies of water, crying for her children: “¡Ay, mis hijos!”, but there are many others like El Charro Negro — a mysterious black-clad horseman, often interpreted as a figure who represents temptation, greed, or a pact with the devil. La Mulata de Córdoba, a beautiful woman from colonial Veracruz who was accused of witchcraft and supposedly mysteriously escaped from prison.
Also read: The Day of the Dead festival at https://journals-times.com/2022/11/01/find-out-all-about-mexicos-day-of-the-dead-festival-2022/
El Callejón del Beso, a romantic legend from Guanajuato about two lovers whose balconies were so close that they could kiss across the narrow alley. El Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl — the tragic love story traditionally associated with the two volcanoes near Mexico City.
Mexican Food, Memories, and Belonging
Mexican cuisine is famous for its incredible variety of flavors, and every region has its own dishes, ingredients, and ways of preparing food. But for me, Mexican food is much more than what is on the plate. It is memory, family, and a sense of belonging.
And then there are the salsas. Salsa is an essential part of Mexican food, and sometimes its flavor becomes the reason people return to a particular restaurant or food stand. A good salsa can transform a simple dish into something unforgettable.
Cooking was also part of the education I received at home. I grew up mainly with the flavors and traditions of Jalisco, and by middle school I was already learning to cook. After school, everyone had responsibilities: helping prepare food, cleaning the house, working at La Fe, or serving customers during busy hours.
Special occasions brought the family together around food. For Christmas, New Year’s, Independence Day, and birthdays, we prepared dishes such as mole, tamales, atole, pozole, chiles rellenos, bacalao, chiles en nogada, rompope, and other family favorites.
Making mole was an experience in itself. We bought the different chiles, toasted them, prepared the other ingredients, and took everything to the mill. It was truly homemade mole—and it was delicious! These activities were much more than cooking. They were moments of learning, cooperation, entertainment, and sharing.
Certain aromas and sounds can still transport me to my childhood. The smell of pozole and mole, the taste of tamales, and the laughter of siblings and cousins can suddenly bring back people, places, celebrations, and emotions from another time.
Food also takes me on a journey through Mexico. Mole reminds me of the markets of Oaxaca and the wide varieties I encountered there. Birria takes me to Jalisco, barbacoa to Michoacán, and dishes such as pejelagarto and cochinita pibil remind me of the distinctive culinary traditions of Tabasco and Yucatán.
Mexico’s regional cuisine is like a map of memories. Every dish has a place, an aroma, a flavor, and a story.
Food as a Bridge to the Past
Mexican celebrations and the food prepared for them create opportunities for families and friends to gather, strengthening belonging, affection, friendship, identity, and community.
Living in California, whenever I encounter a familiar Mexican flavor or aroma, something inside me changes. For a moment, I am transported back to Mexico—to the people I love, the places I remember, and the celebrations that shaped my life.
Food connects my present with my past. It touches my heart and soul, bringing memories to life and reminding me where I come from and who I am.
The Traditional Serenatas
A serenata is a romantic Mexican tradition in which a man goes to a woman’s house at night and sings romantic songs outside, usually beneath her window. It can happen before a relationship begins, when a man wants to express his interest, or after a relationship has started, as a way of reaffirming his affection. Serenatas can take place between young lovers as well as between husbands and wives. Know more about Mexico at https://revista.drclas.harvard.edu/navigating-the-diversity-of-indigenous-cultures-in-mexico-a-personal-view/
Traditionally, the man might hire a mariachi or a trio and carefully choose the songs he wants to dedicate to the woman. Her response could reveal whether his feelings were welcome. If she was interested, she might turn on the bedroom light, appear at the window and wave, or even invite him inside for a drink or coffee. If she was not interested, she might simply ignore the serenata.
But there was always a risk! Instead of the beautiful woman appearing at the window, an angry father or brother might suddenly show up and tell the young man to leave. Sometimes, the romantic evening could become much less romantic—and much more dangerous!
Tequila, Mezcal, and Mariachi Music
Tequila, mezcal, and mariachi music are deeply connected with the festive side of Mexican culture, particularly in Jalisco, but also throughout Mexico. Agave spirits and mariachi music often accompany celebrations, family gatherings, and special occasions.
Together, they create an atmosphere of joy, friendship, and celebration. Whether at a serenata, a family gathering, or a festival such as a carnaval, mariachi music and traditional agave spirits can become part of the experience of sharing happiness with loved ones and friends.
For many Mexicans, mariachi is more than music, and tequila or mezcal is more than a drink.
Together, they evoke celebration, affection, nostalgia, and a strong connection to Mexican identity.
Some Mexican Festivities
Mexican celebrations are not simply dates on a calendar. They are more than traditions passed from one generation to another; they are opportunities to come together, strengthen family and community bonds, remember where we come from, and celebrate who we are.
Mexico has countless celebrations, each with its own history, meaning, and character. Seven have always attracted my special attention: Independence Day, Día de Muertos, Las Posadas, Christmas, New Year’s, the Carnavales, and the Guelaguetza.
Together, they reflect different sides of Mexican culture—from history and spirituality to music, food, dance, creativity, generosity, and community. They are moments when people put aside their everyday routines and make time to celebrate life and share it with others.
Independence Day
On September 15 and 16, Mexicans celebrate their independence from Spain. The celebration begins on the night of September 15 with the famous “Grito de Independencia.” In Mexico City, the President leads the ceremony from the National Palace, while thousands of people gather in the Zócalo to celebrate, shouting “Viva México”.
There are fireworks, music, food, and drinks. In homes, streets, and neighborhoods, families and friends gather and often celebrate late into the night. Pozole is one of the most traditional dishes for this occasion, although tostadas, pambazos, and sopes are also commonly prepared.
On September 16, the celebration continues with the traditional military parade in Mexico City. During September, Mexican flags can be seen everywhere—in the streets, on cars, in homes and schools, and on government buildings.
Independence Day is a celebration of Mexican pride and national identity, expressed through music, food, fireworks, and the feeling of being part of something larger than ourselves.
Día de Muertos
Día de Muertos is one of Mexico’s most distinctive and emotionally powerful traditions. It is a time to remember and honor loved ones who have passed away through food, music, flowers, candles, photographs, memories, and the things they enjoyed while they were alive.
For me, Día de Muertos is much more than a celebration. It is an emotional ritual and a unique way of reflecting on the relationship between life and death, sadness and happiness, tears and smiles.
In places such as Janitzio, near Lake Pátzcuaro in Michoacán, and Mixquic, on the outskirts of Mexico City, families gather in cemeteries to honor their departed loved ones. Some remain there throughout the night, surrounded by hundreds of candles. In the darkness, the candlelight creates an almost otherworldly atmosphere, as if the living and the dead could somehow be together again.
Families also create ofrendas, or altars, at home or in cemeteries. They may include photographs, candles, calaveras, cempasúchil flowers, favorite foods, and drinks. These offerings are expressions of love and remembrance, helping keep the memory of those who have passed alive in the hearts of those who remain.
The tradition has deep Indigenous roots and has evolved over centuries, incorporating Catholic and other contemporary influences. During November 1 and 2, cemeteries and public spaces can become vibrant places filled with flowers, food, music, candles, and people sharing memories of those they have lost.
There may be sadness, but there is also laughter, music, food, and a sense of connection. The aromas of flowers, food, candle wax, and even cigarette smoke become part of the experience. For a while, it can feel as though life and death coexist in the same place.
Perhaps this is what makes Día de Muertos so powerful. It does not simply ask us to remember the dead; it invites us to reflect on what remains after someone is gone. We may lose a person’s physical presence, but their love, memories, teachings, and influence can continue to live within us.
I do not know what happens after death. Perhaps it is the end; perhaps it is the beginning of something we cannot yet understand. But Día de Muertos opens the door to these questions and allows us to contemplate them without fear.
Perhaps death does not completely separate us from those we love. Perhaps, in some mysterious way, they continue to walk with us through our memories, our values, and the lives they helped shape.
Las Posadas
Las Posadas are beautiful and meaningful Mexican traditions that combine faith, family, community, food, music, and hospitality. More than a Christmas party, they commemorate Mary and Joseph’s search for a place to stay in Bethlehem before the birth of Jesus.
The word posada means “inn” or “lodging.” Traditionally, Posadas are celebrated from December 16 through December 24, with nine nights representing their journey.
A traditional Posada begins with a procession. People carry candles and images of Mary and Joseph while singing the traditional Letanía, asking for lodging. Those inside initially refuse, but eventually recognize Mary and Joseph and open the doors to welcome them.
Once the doors open, the religious ceremony becomes a joyful gathering. Families and friends share food and drinks, sing, talk, and celebrate together. Children often break a piñata, followed by candy and fruit for everyone. Traditional foods and drinks include tamales, ponche, buñuelos, and atole.
The traditional seven-pointed piñata has a religious meaning: the seven points represent the seven deadly sins, while the blindfold represents faith and the stick symbolizes the strength to overcome temptation. When the piñata breaks, the falling fruit and candy symbolize the blessings that follow.
Today, the piñata is also simply a joyful part of the celebration, especially for children. But its deeper message remains: faith, perseverance, and the joy that comes after overcoming difficulties.
Christmas in Mexico
Christmas and New Year’s in Mexico are not simply days on the calendar. It is a season of faith, family, food, music, and togetherness that begins with the Posadas and builds toward Nochebuena, Christmas Eve, and New Year’s.
For many Mexican families, December 24 is more important than December 25. On Nochebuena, relatives gather for a large dinner, share stories, music, drinks, and laughter, and sometimes participate in a religious ceremony at home or attend church. At midnight, the family may celebrate the birth of Jesus, place the baby Jesus in the Nativity scene, exchange hugs and good wishes, and sometimes open gifts.
December 25 is often quieter, with families visiting relatives, sharing leftovers, resting, and continuing the celebration.
The Nacimiento
The Nacimiento, or Nativity scene, has traditionally been an important part of Christmas in Mexican homes. In many families, it can be even more central to the celebration than the Christmas tree.
A Nacimiento may include Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus, along with shepherds, animals, angels, the Three Wise Men, mountains, rivers, houses, and entire little villages. Some families create remarkably elaborate scenes and add new elements every year.
Christmas trees and gifts are also common today. Traditionally, however, Día de Reyes on January 6 was especially associated with gifts for children.
Food is another essential part of the celebration. Depending on the region and family, the Christmas dinner may include tamales, pozole, bacalao, romeritos, turkey, pierna, and buñuelos. Warm ponche, made with fruits such as guava and tejocote, along with cinnamon and other ingredients, fills the house with a distinctive Christmas aroma. Music and villancicos complete the atmosphere.
In my family, with roots in Mexico City and Guadalajara, Christmas was deeply connected to faith and family. On December 24, relatives might attend church or gather at home for prayer and religious songs before dinner. Then came the food, conversation, music, and celebration.
For me, all these traditions are connected: Las Posadas open the door, Nochebuena brings the family together, the Nacimiento keeps the spiritual meaning alive, and Christmas gives everyone a reason to celebrate love, family, faith, and belonging.
New Year’s
New Year’s celebrations can take many forms, but they usually share the same spirit: being together, celebrating what has passed, and welcoming what is yet to come.
For many couples, deciding where to celebrate can be a family tradition of its own. They may choose to spend Christmas with one family and New Year’s with the other. Others prefer to celebrate with friends or take a trip and welcome the new year somewhere different.
At midnight, one of the most cherished traditions begins: eating the twelve grapes, one with each stroke of the clock, while making wishes for the twelve months ahead. Then comes the midnight toast, followed by hugs, good wishes, laughter, dancing, and singing. For a few moments, everyone seems to share the same hope for a happy and prosperous year.
The New Year’s meal is often very similar to Christmas dinner, with many of the same traditional foods appearing on the table. But the meaning is slightly different. Christmas looks back toward family, faith, and tradition; New Year’s also invites us to look forward—to imagine new possibilities, make plans, and begin again.
Carnavales
Carnavales are public celebrations filled with music, dancing, colorful costumes, parades, fireworks, and community participation. They show another side of Mexican culture: exuberant, playful, joyful, and creative. They give people an opportunity to celebrate together and temporarily leave behind their everyday routines.
Although there are carnivals in many cities and small towns in Mexico, the most famous ones take place in Mazatlán and Veracruz. These traditional festivities are usually celebrated around the end of February and the beginning of March. They transform the streets into lively spaces filled with large crowds celebrating together.
The parades are one of the main attractions. Beautifully decorated floats, dancers, musicians, and people wearing imaginative costumes create a colorful and energetic atmosphere. In the evenings, concerts and live music continue the celebration, bringing together people of different ages.
Guelaguetza
The Guelaguetza is not only Oaxaca’s most important festival; it is also one of Mexico’s greatest celebrations of cultural diversity, indigenous heritage, community, and generosity. It is a festival in which indigenous and regional delegations present traditional dances, music, clothing, crafts, food, mezcal, textiles, and customs from the eight regions of the state of Oaxaca.
The word Guelaguetza comes from the Zapotec language and refers to the idea of sharing, mutual help, cooperation, and community spirit. These values are at the heart of the celebration, making it much more than a cultural event—it is an expression of identity, generosity, and solidarity.
The festival takes place in Oaxaca City during the month of July, mainly in an open-air auditorium located on Cerro del Fortín, a hill overlooking the city. Thousands of visitors gather to enjoy colorful performances, regional music, and traditional dances such as the Jarabe Mixteco, the Danza de la Pluma, and the Flor de Piña.
One of the most distinctive moments of the Guelaguetza occurs when dancers throw gifts to the audience, including fruits, bread, sweets, or local products, symbolizing the spirit of sharing that gives the festival its name.
Some Mexican Behaviors
- Necessity Drives Mexican Creativity
Creativity is deeply rooted in Mexican culture. Mexican people often find clever and resourceful ways to solve everyday problems. Sometimes creativity is used for humor and fun; other times, it is applied in very practical ways.
In Mexico, people with limited resources often try to repair an appliance, a car, or another valuable object before thinking about buying a new one. We say, “It can be fixed,” and then try to find a way to save time and money.
I grew up with a kind of “do-it-yourself first” culture. When something needs to be repaired, we imagine different possibilities, choose one or two, improvise when necessary, adapt to the circumstances, and keep working until we find a way to make it work. If we cannot do it ourselves, we ask someone for advice or help.
This is also the way I have seen many Mexicans work here in California. You can find Mexican plumbers, electricians, builders, mechanics, gardeners, and many other skilled workers throughout the state. They often combine practical knowledge, experience, creativity, and resourcefulness to deal with challenges and get the job done.
When I have a problem at home or with my car, I often ask my Mexican friends or relatives for advice. Most of the time, we find a way to solve it. Other times, all I need to do is watch a video about the specific problem and then try to apply what I have learned myself.
For me, Mexican creativity means doing a lot with few resources, adapting to circumstances, and finding a way forward even when the solution is not obvious. It is a practical form of intelligence: using what you have, learning from others, improvising when necessary, and not giving up easily.
Markets
More than places to shop, Mexican markets are schools of life. They are wonderful places to observe creativity in action.
Sellers often work right in front of you, preparing, repairing, or making their products. You can admire not only their experience, but also their ingenuity, technical skills, practical knowledge, and ability to solve problems. Every market offers lessons about how things are made, how people adapt to circumstances, and how they interact with one another.
As a boy, I often went to La Merced, one of the largest and most famous markets in Mexico City. Sometimes I went alone; other times, I rode behind my brother on his motorcycle. Those trips taught me many things. I learned to pay attention to my surroundings, observe how people worked, negotiate, and respect the effort behind what they sold.
Those were some of my first lessons in survival and community. I learned that necessity can teach you to be resourceful and that creativity does not always require sophisticated tools or technology. Sometimes, it simply requires observing, thinking, trying, adapting, and not giving up.
Mexican Albures
Mexican albur is much more than simply telling a double-sense joke. It is a sophisticated form of wordplay, double meaning, improvisation, and verbal competition that is especially associated with Mexican popular speech.
An albur often works like a verbal game. One person throws out a phrase with a hidden meaning, or a verbal “trap,” and the other tries to turn it around with a quick response. The challenge is to understand the double meaning and answer before the other person gains the advantage.
But what makes an albur an albur?
The sentence may sound completely normal on the surface, but it contains a second meaning, often sexual or related to the body. Words can be manipulated by joining, separating, rearranging, or replacing sounds. Timing is essential because the response has to come quickly. Above all, an albur requires ingenio—cleverness and imagination. The best albures do not simply use vulgar words; they create an unexpected connection between words and meanings.
In streets, markets, schools, games, and cantinas, you could hear people exchanging different kinds of albures. They are part of a form of Mexican humor in which both men and women can participate. There can be an albur for almost any situation, place, or topic.
For example, when a fruit seller sees an attractive woman approaching his stand, he might jokingly call out, “¡Qué buena papaya, güerita! ¡Pásele, pásele!” The words appear to be an innocent sales pitch, but the expression contains a playful double meaning. Understanding the joke—and responding to it—requires cultural knowledge, quick thinking, and a sense of humor.
Albures can sometimes be vulgar or offensive, depending on the context. But at their most playful, they demonstrate an important aspect of Mexican popular culture: the ability to turn ordinary language into humor through creativity, improvisation, and cleverness.
Las Cantinas
The Mexican cantina is a fascinating part of Mexican popular culture. It is not simply a bar; historically, it has been a social institution—a place where people drink, talk, argue, joke, sing, play games, and practice forms of Mexican verbal culture such as the albur.
Traditionally, a cantina was a neighborhood drinking establishment associated with beer, tequila, mezcal, and other alcoholic beverages. But its social role could go far beyond drinking. Workers might stop there after work, friends could meet regularly, and people could discuss politics, sports, women, family, and everyday problems. Strangers could become temporary companions, while regular customers developed a sense of familiarity and community.
A traditional cantina could also be a place for games such as dominó, cartas, or cubilete. Musicians might perform live music, including mariachi, trios, or norteño music. Customers told jokes and stories, exchanged albures, and shared their experiences.
For some people, the cantina also served as a place to temporarily leave behind their worries, disappointments, sadness, or loneliness. A drink, a conversation, a joke, or simply being around other people could provide a moment of relief. In that sense, the cantina could feel almost like an informal place of emotional release—not a medical clinic, but a social space where people could talk, listen, laugh, and forget their problems for a while.
La Botana
In many traditional cantinas, ordering drinks was historically associated with receiving something to eat, often called la botana. What began as a simple accompaniment could sometimes become a substantial meal.
The botana might include simple foods such as peanuts, tacos, beans, or other small dishes, while some cantinas became known for offering increasingly elaborate food as customers continued ordering drinks.
La botana was more than something to eat. It encouraged people to stay, talk, share food, and enjoy the company of others. In this way, the drink brought people to the table, but the food and conversation helped create the social experience.
Customs in my Neighborhood
Mexican Streets, My Triangulo Street
Mexico City is a huge metropolitan area made up of many neighborhoods that can feel like small cities within the larger city. Each one has its own stories, customs, traditions, and people. My neighborhood was one of many working-class neighborhoods, and Triángulo Street was at its heart. I grew up there, and it was the first chapter of my journey.
It was the neighborhood that taught me how to live outside my home. It taught me things that no formal school could teach. That is why I call it “My Neighborhood, My Learning Center.”
My neighborhood was not only a place where people lived and worked. It was a place of family, food, culture, responsibility, risk, fun, and memories. It was my first contact with the world beyond my home—the streets, transportation, stores, markets, friends, conflicts, games, tournaments, and the everyday rhythm of people working and living together.
The neighborhood was full of life. Children played soccer in the streets, rode bicycles, and roller-skated, while young people flirted and began discovering relationships. I grew up observing, learning, working, and enjoying myself. I gradually understood that learning about society did not come only from home, school, or friends. The street itself was another teacher.
In that special environment, I played games, met different kinds of people, and learned to recognize their needs, attitudes, and personalities. I learned some of the most important lessons of life: being aware of my surroundings, taking responsibility for school and work, understanding the value of friendship, and practicing teamwork.
In a way, a good observer could learn the basics of economics, risk analysis, psychology, and sociology simply by paying attention to everyday life. You could also develop a sense of awareness, caution, and intuition—skills that are difficult to learn from a textbook.
My neighborhood was a kind of “real-life laboratory,” a unique learning center that life gave me. It was where I began to mature and develop an understanding of people and the world around me.
This is what growing up in my Mexican neighborhood taught me about life.
Soccer
In Mexico, soccer is much more than a sport. In my neighborhood, it was almost a religion. Being part of a team meant belonging, having teammates and friends, building an identity within the neighborhood, sharing conversations, and, above all, feeling that you were part of the community.
I have played soccer since 1960—first in the streets as a child and later, always as an amateur, in different leagues in Mexico City, Cambridge, England, and California. Over the years, I have been a player, captain, tournament organizer, and coach to my grandchildren when they were young.
For me, soccer has been a laboratory of life. It teaches teamwork, discipline, self-control, strategy, emotional management, empathy, and maturity. It also provides an opportunity to observe how people react under pressure, especially when things do not go as planned.
Winning or losing together creates a special bond. The emotions experienced on the field can strengthen friendships and reveal aspects of our personalities that may remain hidden in everyday life. After a game, conversations and reactions can become a kind of informal psychological lesson, showing our strengths, weaknesses, and opportunities for personal growth.
Soccer has also taught me that paying attention and observing can reveal important lessons about human relationships. The field becomes a small version of life: we cooperate, compete, make mistakes, react emotionally, recover, and try again.
Now, as a senior, I still play. I have made many friends through soccer, and I continue to enjoy observing the different personalities that appear on the field, especially after a difficult loss.
I still remember one time when my oldest grandson watched me play. When I finished the game, he asked me:
“Are you finished? I thought you were still warming up!”
We both laughed.
For me, soccer is not just a sport. It is a lifelong school of human relationships, emotions, friendship, and self-discovery.
Now, after living in California for eleven years, I sometimes ask myself:
Which parts of Mexican culture can I leave behind, and which parts will always go with me?
The answer is simple, and I remember it every day.
I may have left Mexico, but Mexico has never left me. It lives in my memories, my language, my traditions, my food, my music, my sense of humor, and, most importantly, in the way I see and experience life.
I left Mexico, but Mexico never left me.
The following table brings together major celebrations from different parts of the country.
Major Mexican festivals and cultural celebrations
| Festival or celebration | Usual date | Place | Main characteristics |
| Three Kings’ Day (Día de Reyes) | January 6 | Throughout Mexico | Children receive gifts; families share Rosca de Reyes, a traditional sweet bread. |
| Fiesta de la Candelaria | February 2 | Tlacotalpan, Veracruz; also nationwide | Religious processions, music, traditional dress, and celebrations honoring the Virgin of Candelaria. |
| Carnaval de Veracruz | February or early March; dates vary | Veracruz, Veracruz | Large parades, floats, music, dancing, costumes, and street celebrations. |
| Carnaval de Mazatlán | February or early March; dates vary | Mazatlán, Sinaloa | Elaborate parades, concerts, fireworks, elaborate costumes, and traditional festivities. |
| Semana Santa (Holy Week) | March or April; dates vary | Throughout Mexico, Taxco and Iztapalapa | Religious processions, Passion plays, pilgrimages, and community traditions. |
| Feria Nacional de San Marcos | Usually April–May | Aguascalientes, Aguascalientes | One of Mexico’s major fairs, featuring concerts, livestock exhibitions, gastronomy, crafts, cultural events, and traditional entertainment. |
| Cinco de Mayo | May 5 | Especially Puebla; also celebrated elsewhere | Commemorates the Mexican victory over French forces at the Battle of Puebla in 1862. |
| Guelaguetza and regional fairs | July; individual dates vary | Oaxaca City and towns throughout Oaxaca state | Indigenous and regional delegations present traditional dances, music, clothing, food, mezcal, textiles, craft and customs from Oaxaca’s eight regions. The celebration emphasizes sharing and community. |
| Fiestas de la Vendimia (Wine Harvest Festivals) | July–September, depending on the vineyard | Valle de Guadalupe, Baja California, and other wine regions | Wine tastings, vineyard tours, grape harvesting, food pairings, concerts, and wine-making traditions. |
| Grito de Independencia / Independence Day | September 15–16 | Throughout Mexico, especially Mexico City | The patriotic cry of independence, flags, fireworks, music, public gatherings, and traditional Mexican food. September 16 marks Independence Day. |
| Festival Internacional Cervantino | October, dates vary | Guanajuato, Guanajuato | International performing arts festival with theater, dance, music, opera, visual arts, and cultural events. |
| Día de Muertos (Day of the Dead) | November 1–2 | Nationwide; especially Pátzcuaro and Janitzio, Michoacán; Mixquic, Mexico City; Oaxaca | Ofrendas, photographs, candles, marigolds, favorite foods, cemetery vigils, music, and remembrance of deceased loved ones. |
| Festival Internacional del Globo | Usually November | León, Guanajuato | Large hot-air balloon festival featuring mass balloon launches, illuminated balloons, music, and family activities. |
| Día de la Virgen de Guadalupe | December 12 | Nationwide; especially the Basilica of Guadalupe, Mexico City | Pilgrimages, singing, flowers, prayers, traditional dances, and celebrations honoring Mexico’s patroness. |
| Las Posadas | December 16–24 | Throughout Mexico | Candlelight processions, traditional songs, piñatas, ponche, tamales, and gatherings reenacting Mary and Joseph’s search for lodging. |
| Nochebuena and Christmas.New Year’s | December 24–25; December 31 | Throughout Mexico | Family dinners, Nativity scenes, religious celebrations, traditional dishes, music, and exchanging good wishes or gifts. Family/Friend dinners or Special Trips. |
Main Regional Fairs
There are other important regional fairs (Ferias) and events that show the variety of Mexican regional culture beyond the best-known national holidays.
| Fair | Usual date | Place | Main characteristics |
| Feria Estatal de León | January–February | León, Guanajuato | Regional gastronomy, concerts, exhibitions, crafts, livestock, and family entertainment. |
| Feria de las Fresas | Usually March | Irapuato, Guanajuato | Celebrates the region’s strawberry production with food, music, exhibitions, and entertainment. |
| Feria Internacional del Caballo | Usually March–April | Texcoco, State of Mexico | Equestrian events, livestock, charro traditions, music, food, and cultural performances. |
| Feria de Todos los Santos | Late October–November | Colima, Colima | Regional products, crafts, food, livestock, cultural performances, and family entertainment. |
| Feria de la Esfera | Usually November–December | Tlalpujahua, Michoacán | Handmade Christmas ornaments, glass-blowing traditions, crafts, and seasonal decorations. |
| Feria del Alfeñique | October–early November | Toluca, State of Mexico | Traditional sugar skulls, sweets, crafts, and decorations associated with Día de Muertos. |
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