Lucia Ortiz navigates through vast fields of cempasuchil flowers, the vibrant orange petals of which will soon adorn city streets and cemeteries across Mexico. For generations, this flower, also referred to as the Mexican marigold, has been cultivated in the region”s winding canals and farms, taking center stage during the annual Day of the Dead festivities. However, as the 50-year-old farmer and her peers gather clusters of the plant for sale in nearby markets, they express growing concerns about the future of their livelihoods.
The challenges posed by climate change, driven largely by the combustion of fossil fuels such as gas, oil, and coal, have left cempasuchil growers grappling with severe weather events. Ortiz and others report devastating losses this year due to heavy rains and prolonged drought conditions, which have become increasingly frequent. “This year, we lost a lot. We struggled to even grow the cempasuchil. There were moments in which we didn”t have the money to buy fertilizer we needed,” Ortiz stated. “With the cempasuchil plants, we”ve sometimes been left with nothing.”
Known as the “flower of the dead,” the cempasuchil symbolizes the connection between the living and the deceased during the celebrations on November 1 and 2. It is believed that the flowers guide the spirits of the departed to the altars created by their families. Economically, the cempasuchil is vital, with projections indicating that its market value could reach nearly 2.7 million dollars by 2025.
Ortiz, who has been cultivating cempasuchil for three decades on her family”s small plot in Xochimilco, observes that their traditional farming methods, reliant on the cyclical nature of the weather, are increasingly being undermined. The rainy season typically begins in July, but recent years have brought heavy rains, drought, and floods that jeopardize crop viability. This year alone, government data indicated that over 37,000 acres of crops were affected by severe weather.
During a recent visit to the cempasuchil fields, Mexico City“s Mayor Clara Brugada noted that up to two million marigold plants were at risk. Despite these challenges, she highlighted that production this year reached a record high of six million plants, as farmers strive to meet escalating demand even amid precarious growing conditions. Ortiz attributes the excessive rainfall to increased pest infestations, diseases, and root rot, estimating she lost at least 30 percent of her crop, while others report losses nearing 50 percent. In response, farmers have had to invest in insecticides and fertilizers, pushing their already slim profit margins into the red.
“If I were to take a hard look at all our losses, I”d be incredibly disillusioned and even not want to grow them anymore,” she reflected. “We”re just trying to push forward and make sure this keeps going on.”
Efforts to adapt to climate change are underway. Nearby, scientists are exploring long-term solutions beyond immediate economic assistance. At a seed bank named Toxinachcal, researchers are preserving thousands of seed variants of native plant species, including twenty variants of cempasuchil, in hopes of combating adverse climate effects. Biologist Clara Soto Cortés, who oversees the seed bank, explained that recent devastation resulted partly from farmers favoring hybrid marigold seeds from the United States, which yield uniform plants but lack the genetic diversity of traditional native breeds.
These native seeds have adapted to various climates and conditions, making them more resilient to the drastic weather changes currently experienced. Soto emphasized the importance of genetic diversity for crop survival in the face of climate events. “If more climate events, like the floods that roiled producers, wipe out an entire crop, the bank will make seeds available to local producers to recover their crops – this time with a more resilient variant that their ancestors have been farming for centuries,” she noted.
Meanwhile, farmers are striving to recover from their losses, which also threaten the agricultural traditions they have worked hard to maintain amidst the urban sprawl of Mexico City, home to 23 million residents. Carlos Jiménez, who has farmed in Xochimilco for years, began growing hybrid marigold plants eight years ago for their marketability. Yet, as he faces crop losses and declining prices due to root mildew, he contemplates adaptations like constructing greenhouses. “The plants get sick, they rot, and our business is snuffed out,” Jiménez remarked. “And with it goes our tradition because it”s our economy.”
Producers like Ortiz are also considering alternatives, but financial constraints limit their ability to build necessary infrastructure. They have called upon local authorities for assistance, yet reports indicate they have received insufficient support to recover fully. Despite these hardships, Ortiz remains hopeful for the future. “This plant has a deeper meaning to our lost loved ones,” she emphasized. “These are traditions we carry down from our ancestors. They can”t just disappear.”
