Tianguis México: when silence feels comfortable, It's time to make noise

By Gustavo Contreras

The Tianguis Turístico México 2025 will go down as one of the most attended in terms of figures: Guinness World Records, thousands of business meetings, an endless parade of events, and flawless production for the photos. But while the numbers shone in official headlines, behind the spotlight, there was another story: the one we, the travel journalists, covered not with badges, but with our profession.

And no, I’m not talking about minor annoyances. I’m talking about a treatment that, although disguised as cordiality, made it clear that for many organizers and authorities, the travel press has ceased to be a strategic ally and has become functional filler—just another decoration in the hall of announcements.

The specialized journalist was ignored at key moments, absent from ceremonies like the handover of the baton, and excluded from activities that would have enriched the coverage. Some colleagues literally went hungry, staying far from the operation center, with no proper agenda, and no access to what was essential for their work. All this while the success of the Tianguis was being celebrated with messages of inclusion, promotion, and professionalization.

The message was clear to many of us: as long as we were brought to the Tianguis, that was supposed to be enough. It was as if we were on payroll to echo press releases and applaud agreements. As if coverage didn’t take effort, time, equipment, or professional experience. As if our value lay in our name tags, not in our words.

We’re not writing this to demand privileges, but to ask for something that should never have been in question: professional respect. Because tourism needs promotion, yes, but it also needs words. It needs press that investigates, that dialogues, that questions, that provides context, and that builds narratives. And that can’t be achieved with pressures, or trades disguised as hospitality.

In the end, this Tianguis also leaves us with lessons. That the voice that disturbs is more valuable than the one that repeats. That not everyone is willing to play the same game. That there are still journalists—and yes, also content creators, communicators, and emerging media—who believe in the essence of telling what matters, even if it's not always what’s convenient.

This is not a goodbye to the Tianguis; it's a "see you later." But from another place. One where we continue generating content with meaning, with constructive criticism, and with memory. Because tourism is not only driven by flights and agreements: it's driven by the story that someone dares to tell.