The continued migration of many bird species that arrive in Jalisco each year faces serious threats due to rising temperatures, pollution and the expansion of urban areas with excessive lighting.

Biologist Jesús Alberto Espinosa said migration has declined among species that depend on increasingly dry regional wetlands. The climate crisis is particularly evident in the reduction of critical ecosystems that are losing their capacity to provide refuge.

“There are species that are not returning,” he said. “We used to see the American grebe in the 1980s and 90s; now it’s extremely rare. Roseate spoonbills, which used to arrive in good numbers in Zapotlán el Grande, are hardly ever seen today. Storks and ducks, which were common, have also seen their populations decline.”

With less water and more severe droughts, the natural cycle is disrupted, affecting both birds and humans.

The survival of these birds depends directly on the health of the wetlands, such as the Zapotlán Lagoon, which not only regulates the local climate but also supports 360 families of fishermen and artisans.

The Sayula Lagoon, which should be full of thousands of birds and is an important site for their conservation, is dry because not enough rain fell this past year.

“Prolonged droughts and the evaporation of bodies of water force birds to move to other locations or even stop migrating altogether,” said Carlos Palomera, a biology professor.
“The lack of water … prevents the reproduction of aquatic organisms that serve as food for the birds, [while] rising temperatures disrupt natural cycles: Insects hatch prematurely, and birds arrive late to areas where they previously found abundant food. This reduces their chances of survival and affects the entire food chain.”

The decline in migratory birds has serious consequences: As natural pest controllers, their absence favors an increase in insects that damage crops or transmit diseases. Additionally, many species perform vital functions such as pollination and seed dispersal, essential for forest regeneration.

Espinosa and Palomera spoke Monday at the inauguration of their photo exhibit — “Glimpses of Nature” (“Miradas a la Naturaleza”) — which they hope will raise public awareness by explaining the importance of ecological preservation in mitigating the effects of climate change on birds and other animal groups.

The exhibit lasts through Feb. 25 at the Juan José Arreola State Public Library of Jalisco, in Zapopan.

With reports from La Crónica, UDG-TV and Aristegui Noticias

The post Climate change: Migratory birds are starting to abandon the state of Jalisco appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Minor misunderstandings flare into full-blown arguments. Longtime residents clash with newcomers. Local pride rubs up against foreign expectations. And before long, the original purpose of connection is buried beneath sarcasm, gatekeeping and thinly veiled frustration. Which is why, when something genuinely different comes along, people notice.

Humble beginnings

Puerto Vallarta Experience Share on Facebook has quietly become one of those rare online spaces that feels, dare we say, nice. 

It’s helpful without being patronizing and positive without being naive. It’s a place where newcomers feel welcome, and longtime residents don’t feel worn down by answering the same questions for the hundredth time. 

In a digital landscape where tension often feels inevitable, this page has somehow sidestepped it. And in doing so, it’s become a firm Vallarta favorite.

Page founder and Canadian expat Melanie Henderson started the group as a simple way of sharing her and her husband Travis’s experiences.

“My family, friends and the many customers I had where I used to work all wanted to know what we were into when we retired,” she said. “I began the page as a way of keeping them informed, and the next thing I knew, it unexpectedly grew. There was no moment when I thought it was needed; I just started it for fun and [as] a way to communicate with people.”

What’s striking is that the page — which has just shy of 94,000 followers — doesn’t position itself as an authority. There’s no sense of “we know better because we’ve been here longer.” Instead, it feels like a conversation happening at eye level. 

If someone asks a question about buses, they get three thoughtful answers instead of a lecture. Someone shares a small joy — a sunset, a meal, a chance encounter — and it’s met with warmth rather than one-upmanship.

At its heart, Puerto Vallarta Experience Share seems less interested in being right and more interested in being useful.

“This is a group to share, discover and celebrate everything about Puerto Vallarta,” Henderson said. “Whether it’s photos, experiences, restaurant reviews, hotel tips, events or travel questions, our community is here to help each other enjoy the best the area has to offer. I want people to experience the culture [and] the beautiful people and make meaningful memories. In a nutshell, I want the group to add happiness to everyone who’s on it. Knowing it was doing that would make me very happy.”

That sense of positive emotional aftertaste, how people feel when they log off, is perhaps the page’s quiet superpower.  And that doesn’t happen by accident.

Maintaining a positive tone in an expat group isn’t simply about deleting negativity. It’s about modelling behavior. It’s in the way questions are answered, disagreements are softened rather than sharpened, and humor is used to defuse rather than divide.

“We aim to post or make comments with kindness, respect, and positivity, so that others will follow suit,” Henderson said. “Our group has so many role models that inspire me, and they’ve helped me see the joy in everything. The group is very important to all of us, so we try to treat each other like family.”

There’s also a noticeable respect in the group for Puerto Vallarta itself. Not just as a backdrop for expat life, but as a living, breathing place with its own rhythms, people and history.

Posts regularly highlight local businesses, traditions and everyday moments that remind members they’re guests here, not just consumers of sunshine and scenery, and that respect feels genuine rather than performative. It’s woven quietly into the tone of the group, shaping how people speak about the city and, just as importantly, about one another. 

There’s an understanding that loving a place means listening to it, learning from it, and allowing oneself to be changed by it. That affection for Vallarta, and for the people who make it what it is, shines through in almost every interaction.

“I love the sense of community. There’s such a noticeable feeling of togetherness here,” Henderson said. “I’m grateful every day that my husband and I have been welcomed, and I want everyone to experience the joy we have in Vallarta.”

For many members, Puerto Vallarta Experience Share becomes something more than a practical resource. It’s a touchstone, a reminder of why they chose Vallarta in the first place, or why they’re considering it now. For those newly arrived, still finding their footing, it offers reassurance that uncertainty is all part of the process of being a migrant to a new country and that questions are welcome. 

For those who’ve been here longer, it gently rekindles a sense of appreciation that can sometimes fade with familiarity.

In that way, Puerto Vallarta Experience Share bridges a quiet but important gap: It allows different stages of expat life to coexist without competing. There’s room for the excitement of discovery alongside the steadiness of experience. There’s room for curiosity without judgment. And, above all, there’s room for kindness.

Looking ahead, the future of the page feels less about expansion and more about intention.

“As the group grows, I’m hoping it’ll continue to be a space we can all enjoy and share together,” Henderson said. “Each time someone reaches out to someone with a post or comment, it connects us. I think the dream is that those connections remain meaningful.”

In a digital world that often rewards outrage and scorn, Puerto Vallarta Experience Share has chosen a different path, valuing curiosity over righteousness, generosity over ego and connection over noise. 

That may not sound revolutionary, but in practice it is. Not because the group promises perfection but because it offers something far more sustaining: a reminder that community, when nurtured with care, can still be a source of comfort, joy and belonging.

In a city shaped by arrivals and departures, reinvention and return, Puerto Vallarta Experience Share reflects the best of what expat life can be: open, respectful and grounded in gratitude. A place where sharing experiences doesn’t mean competing for them and where being part of something never requires being someone you’re not.

In the end, that quiet sense of welcome may be its greatest success of all.

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics and community.

The post MND Local: How one Puerto Vallarta expat group avoids the pitfalls of online culture appeared first on Mexico News Daily

The information was divulged one day after U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio told Mexican Foreign Relations Minister Juan Ramon de la Fuente that there must be stronger cooperation to dismantle Mexico’s violent narco-terrorist networks and their fentanyl trafficking activities.

In a Monday morning social media post, Security Minister Omar García Harfuch reported that the Naval Ministry (Semar) dismantled three clandestine meth labs in the states of Michoacán, Durango and Sinaloa, but did not reveal when the operations took place.

Agents from the Security Ministry, the Federal Attorney General’s Office, the Defense Ministry and the National Guard also participated in the raids.

García Harfuch said the complete destruction of the narco-laboratories represents a significant blow to the logistical structures of organized crime, while emphasizing the social benefit of keeping the end product out of circulation. 

“These actions directly weaken the financial capacity of criminal organizations and prevent these illicit substances from reaching the population, especially our youth,” Harfuch wrote in his post.

The operations were carried out in strategic areas identified by authorities as synthetic drug production hotspots, reinforcing the operational and logistical impact against organized crime.

In a statement, the federal Security Cabinet said the largest seizure was recorded in Los Cedros, Sinaloa, where authorities dismantled a clandestine laboratory. There, federal agents seized around 750 kg of finished drugs, in addition to 695 kg and 1,150 liters of chemical precursors.

“With these actions … the Security Cabinet reaffirms its commitment to locating and dismantling laboratories and sites where synthetic drugs are concentrated … and preventing these substances from reaching the streets,” the statement said.

In La Escondida, Michoacán, federal and state forces located and dismantled another narco-lab, confiscating 500 kg and 9,700 liters of chemical precursors, as well as laboratory equipment and tools.

In Carricitos, Durango, a clandestine lab with 695 kg and 1,150 liters of chemical precursors was found by agents on foot patrol. Materials used for the production of synthetic drugs were also destroyed.

The authorities confirmed that operations will continue, “prioritizing operational intelligence, territorial control and the protection of the population,” with special emphasis on preventing consumption among young people.

With reports from La Jornada, Infobae, Excelsior and Reuters

The post Navy dismantles 3 meth labs, seize 700+ kg of drugs and chemical precursors appeared first on Mexico News Daily

2026 budget sees hefty increase

Puerto Vallarta is starting the year with an impressive budget of 3.1 billion pesos, marking a bold move towards enhancing the city’s future. This historic budget is a significant increase from last year and is designed to elevate the quality of life for residents through key investments in infrastructure, public safety and essential community services.

The plan highlights road improvement, park beautification and urban development initiatives, ensuring that Puerto Vallarta continues to thrive as a desirable place for both living and visiting. Social programs aimed at supporting vulnerable populations are also a top priority, demonstrating the city’s commitment to inclusivity and community well-being.

With this robust and ambitious financial plan, Puerto Vallarta isn’t just envisioning a bright future; it’s actively working toward it.

Early tax payments rewarded

The 2026 property tax season in Puerto Vallarta has begun, marked by a special ceremony recognizing early contributors to the city’s development. Dr. Claudio Rafael Vásquez Martínez demonstrated extraordinary commitment by being among the first to pay his taxes, arriving at the Municipal Administrative Unit at 1 a.m. on New Year’s Day. The local government hopes to collect around 600 million pesos this year, all of it earmarked to fund infrastructure projects and public services essential for the community.

To promote participation, the city is offering incentives such as a 15% discount for early payments in January and a 10% discount in February. A tiered discount program provides substantial savings for specific groups, including retirees and seniors.

With these supportive measures and the proactive engagement of residents, Puerto Vallarta could be poised for a prosperous year ahead.

Bus fares increase for some

Puerto Vallarta hasn’t seen a public transportation fee hike since 2018, so it comes as little surprise that 2026 would be the year to change that. Bus fares are increasing from 10 to 14 pesos, but to ease this transition for users, Jalisco Governor Pablo Lemus has announced a 1.2 billion peso subsidy plan, allowing passengers to pay only 11 pesos per trip through the “Al Estilo Jalisco” Unique Card, which subsidizes 3 pesos per ride.

Mexican citizens with a voter ID can access the subsidized fare, while those without will pay the full fare. Discount protections for vulnerable groups, including students, seniors and people with disabilities, remain unchanged at 50%, reducing their cost to 7 pesos. 

The application for the new card will begin in January 2026, with plans to distribute 1.5 million cards by April. 

Ahoy there, matey

After the sudden and sad passing of the Marigalante, Puerto Vallarta’s famed pirate ship, the community has been waiting to welcome a new addition to its maritime heritage. The Jolly Roger, a vibrant and exciting vessel, set sail from Cancún in late October 2025, bringing renewed energy to the local tourism scene. 

Now docked in Puerto Vallarta, the Jolly Roger has been renamed Marigalante II, and it promises families and tourists alike a memorable experience filled with thrilling adventures on the high seas, complete with lively reenactments, treasure hunts and pirate-themed entertainment.

Whether you’re a seasoned pirate aficionado or a first-time visitor, the Marigalante II is set to be the must-see attraction of 2026.

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics and community. 

The post MND Local: Puerto Vallarta unveils ambitious budget, tax incentives, transit changes and a new pirate ship for 2026 appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Inzunza, 62 and known as “El Señor de la Silla” (“The Lord of the Chair”) and “Sagitario,” is accused of running a drug production and trafficking network, primarily dealing in fentanyl, with a direct impact on the U.S. market. 

Allegedly members of the Beltrán Leyva Cartel, Inzunza and his son, Pedro Inzunza Coronel, alias “El Pichón,” were indicted by the U.S. Department of Justice (DOJ) in May 2025. Inzunza Coronel was killed in a clash with the Mexican military on Nov. 30, 2025.

The newspaper El País reported that the Inzunzas were among the first suspects to be charged with narcoterrorism following U.S. President Donald Trump’s designation of several Mexican drug cartels as terrorists in February 2025. 

“An indictment unsealed [on May 13, 2025] is the first in the nation to charge alleged leaders of the Sinaloa Cartel with narco-terrorism and material support of terrorism in connection with trafficking massive amounts of fentanyl, cocaine, methamphetamine and heroin into the United States,” a DOJ statement read.

The Beltrán Leyva Cartel is considered a faction of the Sinaloa Cartel, which is among the criminal organizations designated as terrorist groups by the Trump administration. 

The arrest of Inzunza Noriega came during a joint operation in the Guadalupe neighborhood of the Sinaloa state capital, Culiacán, which was carried out without any reported clashes. Three other people were arrested along with Inzunza, and weapons and drugs were seized.

The four detainees have been transferred to Mexico City where they have been placed at the disposal of the Specialized Prosecutor’s Office for Organized Crime.

Inzunza is believed to be second in command of the Beltrán Leyva group, behind Fausto Isidro Meza Flores, alias “El Chapo Isidro,” who took over after cartel leader Ismael “El Mayo” Zambada was kidnapped and flown to the U.S. in July 2024. Meza was also named in the May 2025 indictment.

Since Zambada’s removal, the rival factions of the Sinaloa Cartel have engaged in a civil war that has resulted in more than 1,800 murders and approximately 800 disappearances.

The U.S. indictment was based on a December 2024 operation in which 1,500 kilograms of fentanyl was seized by Mexican marines at properties linked to the Inzunza family in Sinaloa. It was considered one of the largest seizures of the drug ever recorded worldwide.

With reports from El País, El Universal, N+ and Infobae

The post Pedro Inzunza, a US-indicted ‘narcoterrorist,’ is arrested in Sinaloa appeared first on Mexico News Daily

December sunlight spills across the bay, and poinsettias stack in brilliant towers at every market stall. Palm trees shimmer with strings of Christmas lights. ‘Tis the season when people from colder countries flood in, chasing warmth they can’t find at home.

Holiday blues travel, even to Puerto Vallarta

But this warmth isn’t just the kind that heats your skin. It’s the holiday spirit. It’s the laughter spilling from crowded plazas, children singing carols and fireworks painting the night sky. Yet amidst this vibrant celebration, a different warmth entirely seeps into your bones. It reminds you of what you might be missing, making the heaviness you carry feel even heavier.

If you suffer from depression, it doesn’t stay behind; it travels with you. I know this because I live with it, and I admit it openly, even when societal expectations suggest I shouldn’t. It’s crossed borders with me more times than I can count.

People assume that moving to Mexico means sadness evaporates. Friends back home have asked, “What do you have to be depressed about there?” as if palm trees and sunshine can shield me from my own mind.

But depression doesn’t check your environment before settling in. It doesn’t care that others think you should be happier than you are. When I moved here, I hoped the sun would soften my depression, and sometimes it does, but more often, it simply adapts. You can relocate your body, but your mind always comes with you.

Beauty isn’t always a balm

Sharing my struggles can sometimes be met with disbelief, as if the beauty surrounding me should act as a balm for my sorrow.

At times, the beauty feels almost mocking. The world around me is too bright for the heaviness I carry. I’ve watched sunsets that should evoke something deep within me, yet I felt numb, walking the waterfront in search of relief, only to return home with the same weight tightening my chest.

The hardest part is explaining this to friends who believe I won some emotional lottery by living by the ocean. Sometimes, it’s easier to say, “I’m good,” than to delve into why I still struggle, even with palm trees swaying outside my window.

My depression sharpens around the holidays. The joy of the Christmas season bursts forth in a cascade of lights, music and laughter. There are posadas, parades and so many displays of life. Yet none of that cancels out the ache of distance for those of us who grew up with cold-weather Decembers and shared rituals.

Missing winter weather

When winter is stripped away, the emotional rhythm your body remembers feels lost. The familiarity of snowy rooftops and the scent of pine is replaced by palm trees draped in lights and sun-soaked mornings. While Santa in board shorts is adorable, I sometimes miss the magic of snow falling quietly outside my window.

According to an American Psychological Association study, a significant percentage of people with depression see symptoms increase during the holiday season, even without traditional winter darkness. For expats, the feeling of holiday loneliness can also increase. The sun doesn’t eliminate these feelings; it sharpens them against the vivid backdrop of celebration.

Beyond individual struggles, this winter feels more emotionally strained. Fewer people are travelling or making big moves, and it isn’t just because of flight prices or global events; we’re all carrying more than usual. 

Mexico doesn’t cure depression, but it does alter one’s experience of it

Mexico’s upcoming 2026 residency requirement changes add another layer of stress altogether, with higher financial thresholds and stricter processes. The anxiety surrounding depression doesn’t motivate action; it freezes it.

Living in Mexico hasn’t cured my depression, but it has altered my relationship with it. The pace is slower, the light lingers longer and there’s something grounding about buying fruit from the same vendor every morning or watching fishermen pull in their nets at sunrise. 

Small rituals have become my lifeline. A slow walk to the market before the heat settles in, a drive to a nearby town where life feels simpler, and days spent listening to waves instead of my swirling thoughts. These rituals may not heal me, but they hold me and sometimes that’s enough.

When I tell the truth about how I feel, when I allow myself to say, “I’m not okay today,” I find relief in vulnerability. It isn’t weakness; it’s a way to lighten the load I carry.

How light returns

If you’ve ever spent a winter in a landscape that seems like paradise but you still felt hollow, you’re not alone. If you stayed home this winter because planning a trip felt overwhelming, you haven’t failed. If the idea of moving abroad suddenly feels too heavy, you’re not weak. If the holidays make your chest tighten, you’re not broken. You’re just balancing memory, expectation and rhythm all at once, and that weight deserves acknowledgement, not judgment.

Depression doesn’t ask for permission, and it doesn’t disappear at the turn of a calendar just because your surroundings improve. Seasonal or not, it craves gentleness, a slower rhythm, softer mornings and permission to simply exist without the pressure to be happy all the time.

And healing doesn’t require something grand or dramatic. It can be as simple as a morning when the fog lifts just a little, an afternoon when a laugh bubbles up without effort, or an evening when you feel a flicker of hope again. That’s how light returns: gradually, unexpectedly and softly.

Personal experience and Puerto Vallarta

I’m not a doctor. I can’t prescribe solutions. But I can share my experiences. 

I live with depression, and I speak it aloud. It’s okay to feel heavy in a place that seems perfect.

This winter, wherever you find yourself, give yourself permission to recognize your struggles without shame. Allow the light around you to coexist with the darkness within. Slow your mornings, immerse yourself in the sounds of the waves or the whispers of the wind, and let pauses be enough.

I don’t have all the answers. I only know that living with depression, especially in a beautiful place like Puerto Vallarta, has taught me that it’s possible to keep showing up for yourself, even when it feels impossible. That’s my offering: my own experience and the quiet reminder that you don’t have to carry this alone.

Hold your struggles close, and know that gentleness is a gift you can give yourself, especially amidst a vibrant holiday season.

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics, and community. You can follow along with her travel stories at www.salsaandserendipity.com.

The post Seasonal shadows amidst holiday cheer in Puerto Vallarta appeared first on Mexico News Daily

I imagined streets twinkling with impossibly bright lights strung from palm trees, children laughing over colorful piñatas, and parades filling the Malecón and Old Town with music and fireworks. 

I wanted a local Christmas, and I pictured it as a cultural performance I could admire and photograph. What I found instead was something quieter, slower and far more alive than any staged spectacle. 

A local Christmas

The signs of the season revealed themselves gradually. I began seeing poinsettias spilling from windowsills and paper lanterns hanging along narrow streets. 

Daily life shifted without fanfare. I witnessed a posada, part of the nine-day tradition that re-enacts Mary and Joseph’s search for shelter. 

It was beautifully intimate. Families gathered in the streets, carrying candles and small statues of the Holy Family. They sang, prayed, and knocked on doors, moving from house to house in a procession that felt both solemn and joyful. 

At first, I lingered at the edge of the crowd, camera ready. But then someone invited me to join them. As I walked alongside neighbours I’d never met, I began to understand the significance of being part of something so full of care, community and tradition; something much larger than myself. I realised this wasn’t a performance at all. It was an act of communal devotion. 

Two doors down from me lived a family of three generations. I’d pictured Nochebuena, or Christmas Eve, as an elaborate public event, but this family spent the evening at home. They invited me to join them. 

‘A story told through hands and memory’

I marvelled at the nacimiento, the nativity scene they were building. It began filling an entire room. Figures were being placed with care, and small hand-crafted details were added to reflect local life and history. 

All generations participated, sharing stories and laughter as they worked. The scene became a story told through hands and memory. 

Their food told its own story. I’d imagined elaborate, picture-perfect feasts meant to impress visitors. Instead, I found their kitchen alive with family warmth, the smell of corn masa, and the quiet concentration of hands rolling tamales. 

I watched them work together in a rhythm both practical and tender. Children spread masa on corn husks while parents and grandparents folded them with practised precision. Their conversations flowed as easily as the warm ponche they sipped from small bowls. 

We sat down for dinner late at night. The table was overflowing, candles flickering, and carols rising softly. Gifts were exchanged quietly. 

The tamales they shared with me were delicious, but what stayed with me was the intimacy of their preparation. Each dish embodied memory and shared history. This wasn’t food made to be admired; it was food made with love. 

‘An expression of generosity and community pride’

We went to Mass in the Parroquia de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe. Iconic in its beauty, it overflowed with worshippers that night. The air smelled of incense, and the voices of the congregation rose in unison. 

It was profoundly moving. I felt the weight of centuries of devotion in every note and every whispered prayer. 

Everywhere I walked that Christmas season, the streets glowed. Houses were strung with flickering lights, and songs echoed from plazas. 

To an outsider, it might seem like a show for maximum effect. But for locals, it was an expression of generosity and community pride. Each light and each song were invitations to connect. 

‘A lived experience of family, faith and community’

Even Santa Claus, or Papá Noel, took on a local flavour. He appeared alongside the Baby Jesus or La Virgen de Guadalupe, a reminder that Christmas in Mexico blends imported customs with deep-rooted faith. Commercial imagery co-existed with devotion and storytelling rather than overtaking them. 

The more I experienced, the clearer something became. Mexican Christmas isn’t a spectacle for outsiders. It’s a lived experience of family, faith and community. 

You find it in the hands that fold tamales, the voices that rise in unpracticed songs, the neighbours who open their doors, and the silent prayers lifted in candlelight. It’s about connection, continuity, and celebrating life in its smallest, most enduring forms. 

I stopped seeing Christmas in Mexico as a show and began to feel it as a rhythm to join. I’ve learned to fold tamales, to hum along to songs I don’t fully understand, and to carry a candle through the streets in the warm night. 

I’m no longer a tourist seeking spectacle. I’m a participant in a centuries-old tradition, momentarily woven into its fabric. 

‘The beauty of Mexican Christmas’

And I’ve learned something essential. The beauty of Mexican Christmas doesn’t lie in the markets, the lights, or the costumes, but in the ordinary acts of togetherness. It invites participation and presence. It’s about people and the quiet, persistent joy of being together. 

Christmas in Mexico isn’t meant to be observed from the outside. It’s meant to be felt from within. And being welcomed into that circle of warmth and devotion has changed me. 

It’s taught me that the truest celebrations aren’t grand or loud, but shared in simple moments of presence and care. 

And that, I think, is the greatest gift I could ever have hoped to receive.

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics, and community. You can follow along with her travel stories at www.salsaandserendipity.com.

The post The Christmas gift that Puerto Vallarta gave me appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Nelsy Saray Valenzuela Flores, who teaches at two schools near Los Mochis, is one of 50 finalists for the 2026 GEMS Education Global Teacher Prize, a US $1-million award created by the Varkey Foundation with UNESCO support.

The prize, awarded annually since 2015, has never had a winner from Mexico.

¡Orgullo sinaloense! La maestra👩🏻‍🏫 indígena Nelsy Valenzuela👩🏻 es finalista del Global Teacher Prize 2025📆

🔗 https://t.co/6jW2nzzURR

En el mes de enero🗓️ se nombrarán a los 10 finalistas quienes tendrán la oportunidad de ✈️viajar a Dubai para el nombramiento del único ganador pic.twitter.com/OFnZGeTrU2

— Línea Directa Portal (@linea_directa) December 16, 2025

Valenzuela Flores works with Yoreme communities facing low educational attainment and multiple forms of deprivation. 

The Yoreme, also widely known as the Mayo, are an Indigenous people living mainly in northern Sinaloa and southern Sonora.

She teaches at the Renaissance State Secondary School and the Paulino Indigenous Primary School, where her methods have shone a spotlight on classroom innovation rooted in culture and community.

Valenzuela Flores told the newspaper Milenio she builds her lessons from students’ lived realities and cultural knowledge — blending the national curriculum with a strong focus on Yoreme identity and language.

“I try to address these contents taking into account what the students know, are familiar with and their interests … starting from reality to transform it into something a little better,” she said.

Moreover, her methods spill into broader community projects.

At her secondary school, the initiative “The Renaissance of My Community” brought teachers from several disciplines together to promote community tourism, environmental stewardship and recycling in a nearby fishing village.

She has also helped lead Ínapo Yoreme, the first Indigenous digital community radio station in northern Sinaloa, giving artisans, traditional authorities and youth a platform in the Yoremnokki language.

Valenzuela Flores, who has nearly 15 years of classroom experience, is the only Mexican among 10 Latin American educators on the global shortlist. Others are from Guatemala, Brazil, Argentina, Colombia, Peru, Uruguay and Chile.

Last year’s winner was Mansour Al Mansour, a teacher from Saudi Arabia.

The $1-million prize is not a no-strings-attached personal payment; rather, it’s meant to support educational works and projects, and it’s paid out and monitored over 10 years.

The top 50 will be narrowed to a top 10, with the overall winner to be announced during the World Governments Summit in Dubai, Feb. 3-5, 2026.

Originally Global Education Management Systems, GEMS Education is a for-profit education company that runs one of the world’s largest networks of K-12 schools across the Middle East, North Africa, Asia, Europe and North America. It was founded in Dubai in 1959.

In a Facebook post, Mexico’s Ministry of Public Education and Culture (SEPyC) congratulated Valenzuela Flores, adding that her nomination is “a testament to her extraordinary work” and that she “reaffirms the leadership of Indigenous women who defend their territory, their culture and their language.”

With reports from Milenio and PR Newswire

The post Indigenous Sinaloa teacher nominated for the prestigious GEMS Global Teacher Prize   appeared first on Mexico News Daily

If you’re looking for the best of things to do in town during the December but also fancy taking a bite of Vallarta’s vibrant social scene, why not consider one of these activities? 

December 16: Cirque du Soleil LUDO at VidantaWorld

Step into something completely new for the area, the debut of Cirque du Soleil LUDÕ. Opening December 16 and running through 2026, this immersive experience blends acrobatics, underwater visuals, gourmet dining, and a storyline that pulls you right into its world. It’s unlike anything Banderas Bay has seen, and it’s a perfect way to break from the ordinary. 

Ticket options are listed on the official LUDÕ website.

December 20: VRBAN Vallarta 2025 starting on the Malecón

Channel your festive season energy into VRBAN Vallarta, a 10 km urban race that zigzags through sand, pavement, stairs, narrow streets, and some of PV’s most iconic spots. It’s like a real-life obstacle course through the city. 

Register via Facebook (Vallarta Sobre Ruedas), at Xisco Bikes (Av. Los Tules 168, Local 8-A, Fluvial Vallarta), or by calling 322.172.1154.

December 21: A Country Christmas at Casa Karma

A Country Christmas | Honky‑Tonk Holidays in Puerto Vallarta

If a rootin’-tootin’ good time is what you’re looking for, look no further than A Country Christmas presented by ACT2PV! Join Bobbi Goddard and her merry band of friends for an unforgettable evening filled with jingle-twangy tunes, side-splitting laughter, and holiday spirit that’ll have you two-stepping in your boots.  More than a show, it’s a “Hard Candy Christmas!”! 

Tickets are available at act2pv.com/shows.

December 29: Night Divine at Teatro Vallarta

Night Divine | World‑Class Holiday Voices at Teatro Vallarta

Effie Passero and Branden & James will light up the beautiful Teatro Vallarta in Centro for a special “Night Divine.” Hosted by Sutton Lee Seymour, the event is a mix of beloved holiday classics and songs from Coldplay, Moulin Rouge, Snow Patrol, The Eagles, Adele, Rent, and more. 

This trio is a favourite in this neck of the woods, so get your tickets now through the Teatro Vallarta website.

December 31: New Year’s Eve in Puerto Vallarta

Wrap up the year, with a huge celebration along the Malecón. Puerto Vallarta turns into one big street party, packed with live music, dancing, and fireworks that light up the bay at midnight. After a month of concerts, creativity, and cardio, there’s no better way to welcome 2026 than right here in Puerto Vallarta.

Whether you’re captivated by the magic of Cirque du Soleil, participating in the exciting VRBAN race, or enjoying a festive night filled with music and laughter, each event is a step towards a memorable celebration. As we bid farewell to 2025 and count down to a new year, may the remainder of this month fill your heart with joy and set the stage for a wonderful 2026 ahead!

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics, and community. You can follow along with her travel stories at www.salsaandserendipity.com.

The post MND Local: Puerto Vallarta holiday celebrations appeared first on Mexico News Daily

I’d pictured myself bargaining over ceramics, debating one vase against another, maybe leaving with a fragile object wrapped carefully in newspaper. Instead, my hands stayed empty, and my heart was full in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

‘Wind in your face and a road stretching ahead’

The journey there set the tone. My boyfriend and I rode the motorcycle from Puerto Vallarta, taking the back road because these trips are my kind of therapy. There’s something about wind in your face and a road stretching ahead that slows your thoughts, stretches your attention and sharpens the senses to details you may miss in a car.

We stopped along the way, drawn to fields of wildflowers swaying like dancers, roadside fruit stands where mangoes smelled like summer captured in a peel and tiny villages that appeared out of nowhere. Each pause felt intentional, even if it wasn’t. Riding a motorcycle forces you to engage visually, physically and emotionally. You can’t glide past life unnoticed.

We arrived in Tonalá in no rush and with no agenda, which was perfect as we soon found the town demanded nothing from us either. Tonalá greeted us quietly, with no shouting, no hand-painted signs clamoring for attention, no chorus of vendors urging purchases. It seemed as if the town trusted its own allure, confident that anyone meant to be enchanted would be. 

And enchantment is exactly what it offered.

“The rhythm of the town began to reveal itself’

We entered the main street, where the rhythm of the town began to reveal itself. Sculptures lining the pavement like sentinels. Towering clay figures of warriors and animals, iron creatures with curling tails and sun faces, arranged as if in ceremonial pride. Every corner offered a small surprise, whether a mosaic tucked into a wall, a painted utility pole or a tiny wrought-iron bench that looked both modern and centuries old.

Balconies dripped with bougainvillea. Walls shifted from sea green to apricot to a yellow that could only exist at sunset. Every doorway had character. Some were bold, others shy, like neighbors peeking from behind curtains.

We wandered, allowing the town to guide us. At one corner, an artisan heated a strip of metal until it glowed orange, shaping it with calm precision, his movements deliberate, almost meditative. A workshop spilled into the street nearby, tools clinking in a steady rhythm.

A grandmother strung tiny clay bells across her knees, her hands moving like wind through tall grass. Children darted between stalls, distributing supplies and sweets with equal care. The choreography of life itself was mesmerizing, each person absorbed in their work, their motion, their craft.

‘Tonalá exists for those who notice’

I spent 45 minutes watching a man paint a single spindle on a chair. One spindle. Every stroke was deliberate and patient. I wanted to ask why he spent so long on this small detail, but something about the moment suggested it didn’t need explanation.

Tonalá exists for those who notice, who linger and who allow themselves to be absorbed by its textures and rhythms. Sunlight filtered through beaded mobiles and woven lanterns, scattering fractured rainbows across walls and pavement. The air carried the aromas of tortillas sizzling on griddles, roasted peanuts and coffee being ground behind small, unmarked doors. A faint, elusive sweetness hung in the air, something I wanted to chase down but never quite did. Every sense was engaged.

We ate from food carts, stopping because they looked appealing rather than out of hunger. I balanced an icy, collapsing cup in one hand and my helmet in the other, and my boyfriend laughed at my precarious juggling act.

We wandered down alleyways simply because they seemed intriguing, pushed open wrought-iron gates to peek into hidden courtyards and encountered nothing but curious glances and gentle smiles. Curiosity was the currency here, and we spent it freely.

‘The light itself was magical’

By mid-afternoon, I realized we hadn’t entered a single store. The shopping bags I imagined filling had stayed folded in my backpack. We hadn’t bargained, debated or chosen. Yet we had collected far more than any container could hold. We had watched life unfold in its small, magnificent details. We had seen artistry not just in objects but in the hands, eyes and intentions of those creating them. We had witnessed patience, care and joy.

The light itself was magical. Slanting through hanging glass ornaments and woven lanterns, sunlight transformed ordinary spaces into stained-glass dreams. Shadows bent and stretched — part of the art, choreographed by the sun. The town seemed obsessed with texture and colour, which spilled over into every detail.

By late afternoon, we perched on a cracked stone bench, sharing a snack, watching the light soften over the plaza. The town, which had felt like an art gallery, a stage, a secret garden all at once, began to exhale.

Colors deepened and streets glowed, and we felt the quiet satisfaction of wandering somewhere that demanded nothing from us except attention.

‘Tonalá is a marketplace, but it’s also a muse’

We left Tonalá with no purchases. We bought no vases, trinkets or beaded bracelets, but we carried back something far richer: We carried the memory of a town that exists on its own terms, rewarding patience, curiosity and the willingness to observe. We carried the warmth of people creating and living attentively. We carried the freedom that comes from riding a motorcycle along a winding back road, where every turn brings the unexpected and the world feels immediate, alive and intimate.

These rides aren’t just transport for me. They’re a meditation. They’re a reminder that moving slowly with attention and curiosity allows you to feel a place in ways no checklist or itinerary could.

Tonalá is a marketplace, but it’s also a muse. It rewards those who pause, who look closely and who let themselves be absorbed by its rhythms. We’ll return, with luggage next time, ready to choose a fragile treasure. But we’ll also do what we did on this visit.

We’ll ride that back road again, a single motorcycle between the two of us, stopping wherever the day calls us, and we’ll let the town reveal itself slowly, corner by corner, detail by detail.

Tonalá doesn’t insist on your attention, but it’s endlessly generous to those who notice.

Charlotte Smith is a writer and journalist based in Mexico. Her work focuses on travel, politics, and community. You can follow along with her travel stories at www.salsaandserendipity.com.

The post Throttle therapy: two wheels, one town, endless details appeared first on Mexico News Daily