In the Yucatán Peninsula, the Tren Maya project marks a critical crossroad, threading through Mexico's landscape to harmonize modern development with the deep-rooted cultural essence of the Maya civilization.
If you've traveled to Mexico, it's likely you've visited the awe-inspiring Mayan temples and journeyed inland. Often, this adventure starts with a flight to Cancun, from where a bus takes you further into the heart of the country. Amidst the sea of tourists, perhaps you glimpsed the ancient structures that were erected centuries ago, admired the cenotes, and soaked in the breathtaking landscapes. However, along this journey, you would have also encountered crowded places, joined tours packed with tourists, and noticed the many buses and hotels dotting the landscape. This experience, while unique to Mexico, mirrors the reality of many historical sites worldwide that have become tourism magnets.
The fact that you've traveled to Mexico to visit the Mayan ruins reflects a trend that the Mexican government has also observed in recent years. This is why ambitious plans for the Yucatán Peninsula were set in motion nearly a decade ago. In a bold move to revolutionize regional development, Mexico's Tren Maya project emerges as much more than a mere transportation in between Maya heritage sites, villages and tourist attractions. Spearheaded by President Andrés Manuel López Obrador, this ambitious railway seeks to intertwine the rich history and culture across its expansive 1,500-kilometer route. At the heart of this initiative lies a promise that this construction will be the gateway to the world-renowned archaeological wonders of Chichen Itza and Palenque, among others. The increased accessibility to the region is poised to enlighten visitors, both local and international, fostering a deeper respect and enthusiasm for the preservation of these historical treasures. It is supposed to safeguard the legacy of the Maya people, bind communities, invigorate tourism, and spark economic prosperity.
But the narrative around the Tren Maya project is a nuanced one. It reflects a post-colonial Mexico's quest to redefine its place in the global economy, leveraging its historical and cultural riches. By knitting together underdeveloped areas with the economic mainstream through infrastructural development and tourism, the Tren Maya offers a beacon of hope for economic revitalization. This approach signals how the government approaches the preservation of cultural heritage with economic growth and participation into the global capitalist world. A common approach many countries take towards managing cultural heritage. Yet, the question arises: is this the best way to respect and honor indigenous cultures? Let's explore this further. To tourists, places like Chichen Itza or Palenque are windows to an ancient world, offering a peek at the magnificence of past civilizations. They're places to see, walk around in, and admire. But for the Maya people living there, these sites mean something different. What really matters to the Mayan communities today? Do these ancient temples still hold a place in their living culture, a connection to their ancestors or have they become relics of colonialism, something they're willing to hand over to a tourism industry that's always asking for more?
Starting a conversation about safeguarding indigenous cultural heritage means shining a light on the core subject: the vibrant legacy of the Maya civilization. And focusing on the people who reside in towns where Mayan culture and traditions are still actively observed, such as Valladolid and Tulum, along the Tren Maya route. Tren Maya project seeks to connect Mayan communities that have largely been invisible to the global economic landscape, communities with their own unique pace of life and distinct views on development. But for Mayan communities, the circumstances are multifaceted, primarily because of the effects on their lands. To them, Mexican Peninsula is more than just a geographic location or tourist spot. It is their living environment. As Tren Maya weaves through the dense jungles into the heart of Mayan lands, it intersects with regions rich in history, tradition, spirituality, and agricultural practices handed down through generations. Emphasizing ecological sustainability, the Mayans have cultivated farming methods that involve the entire community in nurturing and respecting the earth.Indigenous leaders have raised alarms about the project's potential to disrupt sacred spaces, displace land, and erode traditional lifestyles. The wealth of those forests extends well beyond Mexico's borders: in fact, researchers describe them as the Americas’ “third lung” because of their oxygen production. This rich biodiversity is not just a local treasure but a global asset, making its conservation critical.
Ironically, the entire initiative fundamentally conflicts with the traditional Mayan worldview. While the government states the project will help people learn more about Maya culture, local communities worry it will actually make people understand less about what their culture truly stands for. For example, the Mayans don't just think of wealth as money or property. To them, real wealth comes from living in harmony with nature, having strong communities and families, and keeping their traditions and spiritual practices alive. Their ideals go beyond economic growth. They don't believe they need the kind of development that comes with big commercial projects, paying fees to go to a tourism attraction. But perhaps most crucial is the contradiction in how the Maya perceive progress itself. Which is fundamentally different from the intentions of this project. Mayans consider people to be temporary guardians of the Earth, tasked with preserving it for future generations. They see "progress" as a cyclical process of giving back and recycling, rather than constantly creating new things and using up more resources. At the heart of this belief is the idea that humans are deeply connected to nature and must manage it responsibly. According to Mayan philosophy, any building or farming activity, whether it's constructing a house, preparing a field, or undertaking a large project like the Tren Maya, should be done with deep respect for the land, sometimes even requiring spiritual consent. Building a large-scale project like a railway, which does not prioritize the stewardship of the land, contradicts this deeply held traditional belief.
The Tren Maya project highlights a big debate that we see across the world: should we see heritage as just a spot for tourists or as something alive, part of daily life? It's like being at a fork in the road between keeping culture alive and chasing after economic benefits, which some say the region really needs. But then you have to ask, what kind of economic boost do you look for when your culture is already rich with its own language, rituals, and wisdom? What if this whole idea challenges the usual thinking that every society needs to grow and develop economically, just like any other western country? Tren Maya stand as a reminder that as we chase after progress, we need to be careful not to overlook the rich cultural histories that have shaped our societies. Economical progress is not the only way. Getting more financially prosper as a country isn't always the solution to reach national goals. There are different types of progress.
Indigenous knowledge, wisdom and customs are incredibly valuable resources to cultivate a sustainable relationship with the environment which can be utilized. This calls for a collaborative approach, where the voices of indigenous communities are not just heard but integrated into the planning and execution of such projects. Mexico's journey with this project is a microcosm of a larger global conversation on sustainable development. It showcases the challenges in to protect both the things you can touch and the things you feel—our tangible and intangible cultural heritage. It's not just about saving old buildings or pretty views. It's about honoring and keeping alive a lifestyle that's closely tied to these places. Yes, making these heritage spots easier for tourists to get to can help people everywhere realize how special they are. But at the same time, it might turn these meaningful spots into just another thing to sell, changing what they're really about for the people who live the culture instead of just viewing it from a train window.
Article written in 2023 during a journalistic residency with Ninth Wave Global in Campeche, Mexico, an embedded organization generating space for positive change in environmental, community and social settings. A special thanks to journalistic residency mentor Jon Bonfiglio, Latin America Correspondent for The Times on Times Radio & talkRADIO, Pedro Uc Be and others opening up to me on this topic. Resources: The Washington Post. "Mexico's Tren Maya project: A journey through destruction and archaeology." The Washington Post. Last modified 2022; Mongabay. "What's Lacking is Respect for Mayan Culture: Q&A with Pedro Uc Be on Mexico's Tren Maya." Mongabay, May 2022; The Guardian. "Fury as Maya Train Nears Completion in Mexico." The Guardian, May 23, 2023; Toward Freedom. "The Tren Maya and the Remaking of Mexico's South Border." Toward Freedom, 2020; commentary and analysis on Mexico via Latin America Correspondent Podcast.
A commissioned article on how what many consider the oldest concert hall in the world connects with new audiences.
On the content production featuring regenerative architectural practices in Rotterdam, a collaboration between Sabine van der Vooren, the International Architecture Biennale Rotterdam and House of Narrative.
House Of Narrative and Alastair Parvin reflecting on the 11th IABR edition closing.
