Mexicans protest against tourists and gentrification

The time of the first of several recent anti-nomerification demonstrations in Mexico was not a coincidence-July 4, the day of the independence of the United States.

Protesters gathered at Parque México in the Condesa district – the epicenter of gentrification in the Mexican capital – to protest a range of grievances.

Most were angry with exorbitant rent increases, unregulated holiday rentals and the endless influx of Americans and Europeans in the trendy city districts like Condesa, Roma and Juárez, forcing long -term residents.

In the Condesa alone, the estimates suggest that up to one in five houses is now a short -term let or a tourist home.

Others have also cited more prosaic changes, such as English restaurant menus, or hot sausage in Taco to respond to sensitive foreign palates.

But while he was moving into the gentrified streets, the initially peaceful demonstration became ugly.

Radical demonstrators attacked the cafes and shops for tourists, breaking windows, intimidating customers, spraying graffiti and singing “Fuera Gringo!”, Meaning “Gringos Out!”.

At her next daily press conference, President Claudia Sheinbaum condemned violence as “xenophobic”.

“No matter how legitimate the cause is, as is the case with gentrification, the request cannot be to simply say” go out! “To people of other nationalities in our country,” she said.

Aside from the radicals and masked agitators, the motivation for most people who proved on July 4 were stories like those of Erika Aguilar.

After more than 45 years of his family to rent the same apartment in Mexico City, the start of the end came with a blow to the door in 2017.

Long -term residents of the Prim building, an architectural jewel from the 1920s located in the Juárez district, they were visited by managers who serve expulsion papers.

Erika, the eldest girl, remembers the shocking news: “They came in all the apartments of the building and told us that we had until the end of the month to leave the locals, because they were not going to renew our rental contracts.

“You can imagine my mother’s face,” adds Erika, her voice wicking temporarily. “She had lived here since 1977.”

The owners sold a real estate company. But they gave residents a final offer, although unrealistic.

“They told us that if we could raise 53 million pesos ($ 2.9 million; 2.1 million pounds sterling) in two weeks, we could keep the building,” she recalls with a hollow laugh.

“It’s a fortune! New apartments were available for about one to 1.5 million pesos ($ 50,000 to $ 80,000) at the time.”

Today, her old house is covered by the cover and scaffolding, because a construction team converts it into luxury “one, two and three apartments designed for short and medium term rentals”, has the company’s website.

“It’s not a construction for people like me,” said Erika – a layout designer – comments praise. “It is for the short term leash.

Erika and his family are now living so far from the city center, they are officially in the neighboring state, almost two hours by road in public transport. This is what activist Sergio González calls “losing the right of centrality, with everything that implies”.

His group has recorded more than 4,000 cases of “forced displacement of residents with roots” of the Juárez district in the last decade. He was one of them.

“We are faced with what we call an urban war,” he said during one of the subsequent anti-fatrification demonstrations held after July 4.

“What is in dispute is the terrain itself – which does and which has no rights on this reason.” Most of the forced residents to leave his neighborhood could not stay in the city, he said. “They have lost rights protected by the City Constitution.

“The first apartment I rented here cost around 4,000 pesos per month in 2007,” said Sergio. “Today, this same apartment costs more than 10 times more. It is an outrage. It is pure speculation.”

Faced with growing anger, the mayor of Mexico City, Clara Brugada, has unveiled a 14 -point plan intended to regulate rent prices, protect long -term residents and build new social housing at affordable prices.

But for Sergio, and thousands like him, the mayor’s plan arrived too late. He thinks that the administration must do more to combat gentrification in Mexico at the base.

“We have a local and federal government which continues to promote a neoliberal economic model, which has not changed,” says Sergio.

“As long as they have increased the social security net for people, which is very good, which has not changed the economic paradigm by which they govern.”

He described the measures of the mayor as “palliative”, and a case to “close the barn door after the horse bolted”.

Critics of Claudia Sheinbaum say that she did not manage to significantly approach the question when she was the mayor of the capital and, in fact, actively prompted foreigners to reinstall themselves in Mexico City by signing a partnership agreement with Airbnb to stimulate tourism and digital nomadism in 2022.

Erika highlights the finger of blame on a range of people for the upheavals of his family – the former owners of the building for having sold a real estate development company, the government of the city so as not to protect the long -term residents, even the tenants themselves for not having acted earlier than the creeping gentrification which takes place around them.

However, it does not particularly blame foreigners who flocked to Mexico in mass, in particular around the coronavirus pandemic. “If I had the means to live better elsewhere, I would probably also do it,” she explains, “and tourism was good for Mexico, it is a source of income.”

However, many others, many of whom in recent steps, blame the recent American and European arrivals – at least in part. They accuse them of being deaf the Mexican customs, of not learning Spanish or, in many cases, even pay taxes.

The wave of Americans who are well underestimated towards the South feels particularly exasperating for some in contrast to the severe treatment of the Trump administration of Mexican and others in the United States. Immigration is a problem for traveling from south to north but apparently well in the opposite direction, argue the activists.

Back on the website of the July 4 event, a large esplanade at the México Parque, the graffiti calling for “Yankees out!” Was laundered in lime and boxing and salsa lessons early in the morning continue tirelessly, often in English rather than in Spanish.

Given the cost of living and polarized policy in the United States, the Le Feuillues streets of Condesa is obvious.

“It’s calm, accessible on foot, the park is obviously an excellent draw for people. It’s peaceful. We really enjoyed it,” said Richard Alsobrooks on a short trip to Mexico with his wife, Alexis, from Portland, Oregon.

As they cross the Mexican capital, they admit that they have a half-spirit to reinstall themselves here one day. “Obviously, we do not want to contribute to gentrification,” said Alexis, recognizing the extent of the problem.

“But you must have a good job in the United States, and obviously, the dollar goes much further here. So I can understand the call – especially for those who can work from a distance.”

Richard, who works for a large American sports clothing company, says that “the cost of living in America is too high” and is too often based on the idea of ​​working up to 70 years.

The two think, however, it is possible to move the right way. “If you treat those around you with respect and try to be part of the community, it goes much further than trying to do yours somewhere,” said Richard.

“Exactly”, accepts Alexis. “Learn the language. Pay your taxes!”

However, the speed of change in Mexico in the last decade has made victims.

Erika’s family life has turned on her axis in a few months, and her mother fought against depression. While we walk in its old neighborhood streets in Juárez, the memories come back.

“It was a large bar called the Alegría, there was the Turillaría (Tortilla Store), the Tlapalería (hardware store), I bought candy at this place when I was small,” explains Erika pointing to another store.

“Especially people, the community. There are no more families or children here.”

Most of these small businesses have disappeared, replaced by hip cafes and expensive restaurants.

“I think the soul of Juárez died a little,” she deplores. “It is as if you live in a forest, and gradually the trees are uprooted and then suddenly, you realize that you live in a desert.”