Threadbare Dreams & Concrete: What the Hell is Happening to Toluca?

rolled into Toluca last Tuesday with a busted duffle bag and high hopes for deadstock Levis. first stop: the Mercado 16 de Septiembre, where abuelas sell moth-eaten ponchos next to dudes hawking pirated PlayStation games. the air here tastes like old books and diesel-permanent "just rained" vibes without the actual rain. altitude’s a sneaky bastard too; you’ll be wheezing up stairs thinking you’re out of shape while grandmas in rebozos breeze past you.

walked past 10 construction sites counting cranes-felt like god’s own ikea manual. heard from a leather-faced guy at a taco stand that rent near Jardín Zaragoza runs about $320/month if you avoid the gringo traps. "pero cuidado con los chupacabras inmobiliarios," he laughed, gesturing at half-built luxury condos.

three things nobody tells you: 1) factory gigs pay squat but stability’s decent if you can handle 6am shifts (peep the Toluca job board), 2) safety’s a coin flip-stick to walkable zones like La Alameda after dark (locals’ safety map), 3) that abandoned airport expansion? still rotting since 2018. overheard two architects arguing at Café Europa: "-total waste! those runways could’ve been community gardens!" "no mames, we need flights to cancún for tourism-" "TOURISM? WE’RE NOT CANCÚN!"

"toluca’s like a thrift store wig: promising from afar, synthetic up close." - some drunk philosopher at Pulquería La Michoacana

predictions from my frayed notebook: art deco buildings downtown getting facelifts (gentrification confetti!), bike lanes appearing then vanishing like mirages, and the rise of overpriced mezcal bars where old cantinas used to be. found a bomber jacket in Metepec’s tianguis for 50 pesos though-worth the 30-minute bus ride.

if you do nothing else: get lost in the Cosmovitral’s stained glass jungle (weirdly spiritual), eat huitlacoche quesadillas at Mercado Morelos, and check the cemetery’s decaying mausoleums for goth photoshoots.

"that new monorail? it’ll be ready when dinosaurs come back." - a security guard chain-smoking outside UAEMex

toluca’s not exploding-it’s simmering. maybe that’s better. less fire, more slow-cooked texture. spots like La Carcacha Vintage keep the patina alive while the city glues on chrome teeth. catch it before the flippers do.

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