World Cup puts future of street vendors in Mexico at risk | OneFootball

From his ramen food truck in Mexico City, Japanese chef Satoru Hasuike dreams that the 2026 World Cup will boost his business, but entire families dedicated to street food watch with anguish as the football festival threatens their livelihood in the face of imminent relocation.

An indispensable ingredient of the Mexican capital and one of its main attractions for foreign visitors, street food is the ultimate expression of the informal economy which, in this megacity, employs, according to official data, almost 1.5 million people.

The World Cup will take place from June 11 to July 19 in the United States, Canada, and Mexico, whose capital will host the opening match.

The epicenter of the football competition in Mexico City will be at the country’s largest stadium, the Azteca, surrounded for decades by rows of improvised stalls, set up with metal poles and plastic sheets.

But street vendors have already been notified by local authorities that they must leave the area—and possibly not return.

“The expectation is zero,” says Alejandra Zarazúa, a 55-year-old vendor, to AFP, about how these merchants view the biggest football event.

“I’m worried about where I’ll generate my income to survive,” says this former hospital worker who, for the past year, has been selling gelatin desserts on a small table next to her father, a shoeshiner with two decades of work in the area.

Like her, about twenty stalls without official permits—the ones closest to the Azteca—have been waiting since mid-year for the order to vacate the site and be relocated to a nearby avenue, which is already full of street vendors.

World Cup Dreams

On the other side of the city, in Roma-Condesa—the neighborhood favored by numerous American digital expats—Japanese chef Satoru Hasuike is a hit with a ramen food truck that draws long lines thanks to videos posted on TikTok by this 37-year-old cook.

He is already fine-tuning his strategy for the World Cup, although he admits that getting a license to sell at the Azteca is “difficult.”

“I have to sign a contract with FIFA. I want to be inside the stadium, at a fixed point, not at a stall, which could keep the street style,” he says, unwilling to reveal how much he would have to pay to achieve this.

The World Cup is expected to attract about 5 million visitors and generate an economic impact of 3 billion dollars (R$16.1 billion), according to the Ministry of Tourism. In this context, sales around the stadiums become even more of an economic and political prize.

Near the Azteca, on a walkway leading to the train station, some workers are clearing debris from a corridor where, just a few days ago, there were dozens of small stalls.

“They took everything at night, we don’t know where our things ended up,” laments a person who managed an improvised restaurant set up by her grandmother almost 40 years ago.

She asks to remain anonymous for fear of reprisals.

“Mafia”

“This is a mafia. There’s a lot of money involved here. You have to ‘grease the palms’ [bribe] of the leaders and the authorities,” declares another person who works in commerce.

Also afraid, this person asks for their name to be omitted and doesn’t even allow a notebook to be used for taking notes. “I don’t want them to see that I’m giving information,” they whisper, before stating: “FIFA doesn’t like us. That’s why they’re kicking us out.”

Contacted by AFP, local authorities and the leaders of the vendors limited themselves to confirming the eviction and the existence of ongoing negotiations for their relocation.

Separated from the Azteca only by a fence, the snack bar “El Estadio” opened its doors a year ago to offer sandwiches inspired by football stars.

“I’m learning English to serve international customers,” says Oscar Hernández, 47, proudly, owner of the small business that displays Pelé and Diego Maradona on its walls—champions on the neighboring field in the World Cups held in Mexico in 1970 and 1986, respectively.

Oscar has plans B and C in case the “little shops” are also forced to close during the World Cup. “We, as Mexicans, always find a way. I’ll set up a stall two blocks away and, if they still don’t let me, I’ll go out with my sandwiches in a bag to sell them.”

Zarazúa had the same idea. “But I understand that not even walking around will we be allowed to sell,” she laments.

This article was translated into English by Artificial Intelligence. You can read the original version in 🇧🇷 here.