Along some Mexican coastlines, the biodiversity seems endless; the mangroves filter the water on its way to the sea, coral reefs provide shelter for marine life and marshlands sustain native birds, fish and mammals. These coastlines are also populated areas that adapt and sustain themselves in the face of change. They are places where whole communities have built their lives around caring for nature and a tourism-dependent economy that relies on nature continuing to flourish.
Without careful management, that which seems endless today could deteriorate over time, endangering both biodiversity and local livelihoods. Kuxatur, a project that takes its name from the Mayan word kuxa’an ("alive") and the Spanish word turismo ("tourism"), is working to address this challenge. Its goal is to build a new model of sustainable, resilient tourism in Mexico that conserves biodiversity and includes communities in the design of tourism-related public policies, seeking balance between ecosystems, communities and tourism.
“Conservation is our motivation,” Rocío García says. For Rocío, a local guide on the Oaxacan coast, caring for the environment is not just talk, it’s what allows them to continue living in a place where nature sets the pace of daily life.
On this strip of Mexico’s Pacific coast, the appeal is obvious bays where the water glows in the dark from bioluminescence, forests that grow until they meet crystalline beaches and coastal lagoons where crocodiles are part of the landscape. These experiences were limited to expert travellers and local communities until recently, but today they are starting to be more visible on tourist maps.
The shift is measurable. In 2025 alone, more than four million people visited Oaxaca, causing the state to rise several places in the national ranking of tourist destinations. But the tourism boom exposes a well-known tension in emerging destinations. The growth in tourism does not always move at the same speed as safeguards for the land. The mangroves, marshlands and coastal lagoons that sustain biodiversity and local economies face growing pressure as more tourists arrive.
“If we stop caring for this place, the next generations won’t have what we have today,” Rocío says.
To respond to this challenge, Kuxatur is taking several steps to boost ecological resilience on the Oaxacan coast, which runs from Lagunas de Chacahua National Park to Bahías de Huatulco National Park. The project team works alongside the National Commission for Protected National Areas (CONANP), local governments and community cooperatives like Rocío’s.
Her cooperative started 26 years ago when residents decided to renounce activities that were harmful to the ecosystems, such as hunting, harvesting sea turtle eggs, clearing forested land for crops and overfishing. For Itsel Villavicencio, an ecotourism-certified local guide, having more organizations like this would make a substantial difference in the balance between the environment and visitors. As she puts it, change begins when, “you learn to take care of the place that birthed and raised you, and that now employs you”.
The results are already apparent. Today, more than 19,000 hectares, three lagoon systems, and more than 685 species of birds, fish, corals and mammals associated with these coastal corridors are protected. Species like crocodiles and deer are managed responsibly by a Management Unit for Wildlife Conservation (UMA), creating more resilient livelihoods. Low-impact infrastructure has also been added to reduce tourism’s environmental footprint, including composting toilets, biodigesters and solar panels.
Beyond care for the environment, Rocío emphasizes that this model also transforms social relationships within the community: “Gender equality exists within the cooperative. When we are the majority, we can make things happen.” With her focus on replicating this experience in other parts of the country, she concludes, “We are a model for others.”
The waters of Mar de Cortés lapping the southern coast of Baja California Sur are home to one of the richest marine ecosystems on the planet. Oceanographer Jacques Cousteau called it “the aquarium of the world”. It is home to gray and humpback whales and sealions, as well as native species like the totoaba (a critically endangered fish) and the vaquita (the smallest cetacean in the world). All are part of a balance as extraordinary as it is fragile.
This unique environment is located in one of Mexico’s most sparsely populated and most tourism-dependent states. Tourism is responsible for nearly two of every three jobs. This has driven accelerated growth of public services, infrastructure and real estate development, which impacts ecosystems and the livelihoods of local communities.
Rising ocean temperatures and biodiversity loss undermine the long-term viability of tourism based on natural wealth. As one of the most arid states in Mexico, Baja California Sur depends largely on aquifers, deep wells and desalinated water to supply residents and visitors. The combination of consumption from tourism and climate change has increased the region’s water vulnerability.
To meet this challenge, Kuxatur is working in the municipalities of Los Cabos and La Paz, where experts and communities protect aquifers and promote responsible tourism. Mercedes Silva, who runs an eco-ranch in Los Cabos, believes that preserving water and forests is not a sentimental act, but an investment in the economic future of her family and the whole region:
“We have to work to conserve the land so that my children know the waterfall as I did.”
Unlike conventional tourism projects that dominate the area, alternative tourism promoted by Mercedes—along with other eco-ranches, whale and bird watching and local botanical, hiking, mountain biking and scuba diving businesses—aims to reduce the ecological footprint and increase resilience through local networks that spread out visitors to avoid overcrowding. Prioritizing low-impact experiences preserves cultural identity, reduces pressure on infrastructure and creates lasting benefits.
These efforts have conserved 574,000 hectares of conifers, palm groves, scrublands, low jungles, dunes and coastal zones that are home to 2,025 species of plants and animals, from deer to coyotes, from whales to corals, increasing the land’s ability to respond and adapt to the impact of climate change. As Mercedes says:
“We’re proposing another side of tourism—distinct from the sun and sand, where visitors change their perspective and fall in love with new experiences.”
In southeast Mexico on the banks of the Caribbean, Quintana Roo has one of the largest Indigenous Maya populations in the country. Cultural identity in this region exists alongside two of the continent’s most important ecosystems; the second-largest rainforest in the Americas and the second-largest coral reef in the world.
For decades, cenotes (limestone sinkholes), traditional cultivation (an ancestral Mesoamerican agricultural system based in polyculture) and beaches with turquoise waters fed mass tourism that made this state one of the most visited destinations in Latin America. The scale is evident. Between January and May of 2025, almost half of the country’s tourism was concentrated in Quintana Roo.
But this success has a visible cost. The economic impact is consolidated among a few hotel chains, which are mostly foreign owned, while many local communities receive few benefits and depend almost exclusively on a few types of jobs. Key decisions about land use have frequently been made without the participation of Indigenous communities. As a result, processes like deforestation to make way for new developments have significantly reduced the scale of ecosystems and affected their stability.
In Maya Ka’an, in the southern part of the state on the border with Belize, a cooperative-based alternative led by Mayan communities is beginning to take shape. The objective is clear; that biodiversity and cultural identity remain kuxa’an, or “living”, and that revenue stays local while new visitors arrive. “It’s like inviting someone to your house,” says Zendy Celeste, a member of a local cooperative.
Against this increasing pressure, Kuxatur is helping community businesses with guidance on different tourism-related activities, such as operating lodgings and food services and training certified guides, better tourist practices for bird watching, trail construction and designing experiences anchored in Mayan knowledge and identity, where the visitor doesn’t just travel through the region, but learns to take care of it.
The ecotourism centre headed by Margarita Chimal is a clear example of this focus. She sums it up clearly:
“We are not a hotel, but rather local people who want our visitors to know our culture and be part of every experience.”
That same spirit guides José Andrés Chuc, who produces honey from native bees and offers an experience where tourists make soaps and creams. “We are in destinations like Maya Ka’an because they care for biodiversity there,” he says. Other experiences, like embroidering with Mayan woman or traditional Mayapax music, reinforce the link and balance between culture, nature and tourism.
Today, Maya Ka’an has protected almost 1 million hectares of tropical forests, mangroves and coastal ecosystems that are home to jaguars, macaws, wild boars, tapirs, sharks, reefs and 4,000 additional species, ensuring that these landscapes are more resilient in the face of fires, hurricanes and deforestation.
This approach is also apparent in stronger community tourism networks all over the peninsula, positioning the region as an example of tourism with local identity. Zendy says,“You have the right to visit us, but respectfully. Take away the experience, take away knowledge.”
_____________
UNDP implements Kuxatur in collaboration with the Secretariat of Tourism of Mexico, World Wildlife Fund (WWF), ISLA, Amigos de Sian Ka’an, and the state governments of Oaxaca, Baja California Sur, and Quintana Roo, with support and co-financing from the Global Environment Facility (GEF).
© 2026 United Nations Development Programme