Expat colonies can be insular, but Mérida’s outlanders are establishing deep roots here. On our way back to the city we stopped at Plantel Matilde, a 39,000-square-foot arts center rising like a modern acropolis in the middle of the jungle. Conceived by the Mexico City sculptor Javier Marin, Matilde serves as a campus for international art students and local schoolchildren as well as a studio and exhibition space for the artist.

After a full day my host had planned a casual dinner back in town. But this was Mérida: the meal, at a simple cantina called Catrin, was a long, festive, Mezcal-fueled affair. Richard and Laura showed up, as did Marcela, the sisal sculptor. There was Jason, an artist from Chicago, and Kate, from Poland, who did hair, and Ross, from New York, who works in real estate.

We passed around platters of cactus salad and vegetarian flautas and empanadas. The conversation returned to Mérida’s recent growth. Not everyone shared David’s and Carlos’s enthusiasm for the changes. Jason groused about the traffic and noise. Ross said the Levi’s plant was polluting the water with toxic dyes.

“We need Ross just to make sure it’s not all puppies and rainbows here,” said Laura. “If you quote me make sure you say it was after a couple of tequilas.” Laura also opined that anybody looking for “a good place to be creative” still couldn’t do better than Mérida — a point disputed by no one.

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