Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Ben Franklin was also the founding father of Philadelphia’s water infrastructure. He just had to die first.
MEXICO CITY, DF—Throughout Mexico, you hear ominous mention of one of the capital’s shadier neighborhoods, Tepito. “In 5 minutes, they can bring you anything you could possibly want.” People make claims that the black market that thrives in this small neighborhood is equipped to sell products as diverse as bazookas, exotic animals, drugs, and even humans. Time and time again, I am warned to stay away. It’s not safe. Once the Tepiteños decide to rob you, you will be robbed.
But this neighborhood is also the birthplace of Mexico’s newest, most urban drinking trend. No, it has nothing to do with tequila or mezcal. Azulitos and pitufos, blue and red mixed drinks respectively, have taken a hold of Mexican nightlife in most of the country’s major cities. It is not uncommon to see a group of grown men watching a futbol game, while staining their tongues neon blue from these novelty drinks.
Azulitos and pitufos are only the two most common expressions of this increasingly diverse set of drinks. They are generally vodka-based concoctions loaded with sugar, energy drinks, sparkling water, and food coloring–essentially a vodka Kool-Aid. They have really taken off since the Pandemic, when out-of-work quarantiners took to Facebook to offer servicio a domicilio, home delivery service, of alcoholic beverages.
Tepito, already well-equipped to sell things illegally, dove head first into the unlicensed, online alcohol market. Now, instead of just drinks for delivery, blue, red, pink, purple, and green mixed drinks can be found in the hands of patrons in the streets of Tepito’s infamous market. The neighborhood’s indifference to regulation and intense competition have made the colorful drinks increasingly eye-catching. But, this is Tepito we are talking about, and it really isn’t safe to get drunk in the bustling streets of such a place.
The Zócalo of Mexico City, the political, spiritual, and cultural center of the country, is only about ten blocks from La Lagunilla market. The market sprawls over several kilometers and spills from the sidewalks out into the street. Vendors sell clothing, household goods, and food in an urban maze of tents and people. Already, the crowd makes me hesitant to take out my camera or my voice recorder.
But then I cross the street and arrive at the edge of Tepito. We are in the middle of Mexico City, and I understand that the edges of the neighborhood are the safest. The further you walk into the core of the neighborhood, the further away you are from the city. The locals, called Tepiteños, can recognize when Mexicans aren’t from there, nevermind foreigners.
La Lagunilla market blends smoothly into the Tepito section of the market. Tents and stalls continue uninterrupted, but the vibe changes quickly. In lieu of the knock-off Nike’s that adorned the tables of the main market, Tepito stalls openly display crack pipes. And the crack? Just a whisper away. As you walk deeper into Tepito, men appear from nowhere, “What do you want, man? Cocaine, marijuana, weed?”
Within the first block or two of Tepito, the vendor stalls are interrupted by tents that act as open air dance clubs. In broad daylight, in the streets, surrounded by the market these vendors sell alcohol without licenses as their patrons get drunk, dance to loud reggaeton, and smoke weed. There are police around, but they do nothing. It seems that some sort of arrangement has been made.
Some patrons drink caguamas of beer, while others have micheladas rimmed with chamoy or tajin, but most have come here to drink azulitos. The most prominent of these mixed drink businesses is known as Dolls Drinks. The business launched in 2020 during the Pandemic and quickly capitalized on colorful, Barbie-themed drinks using social media and TikTok. In a place like Tepito, over-the-top sells, and Dolls Drinks led the charge with increasingly exotic colors, garnishes, and cups.
Each of these sugary drinks is adorned with piles of sweet goo, candy, and snacks. The cups themselves are eye-catchers. In Tepito, Mexican men drink blue vodka from plastic penises in the streets. Hello Kitty cups contain a beer mix called Kittychelas and small, colorful blender-shaped cups are known as licuachelas. It’s all a gimmick, but it’s a gimmick that Guadalajara, Puebla, and Monterrey have all begun to copy. Tepito has brought street drinks to most bars that appeal to young Mexicans.
The azulito is not my kind of drink. It is strong and extremely sweet, the kind of thing that gives you a bad hangover and an Airhead smile.
As I cautiously move through Tepito, it strikes me as unwise to stop at one of these stalls to increase my BAC. I opt not to take out my camera. Shoving my voice recorder in someone’s face with questions about selling alcohol without a license also seems to be unwise. Instead, after walking a few blocks into Tepito, I turn around and walk out the way I came. I had seen 3 or 4 of these azulito bar stands and was satisfied. Tepito is not safe–not even for the locals.
Two nights before I decided to check out the azulito scene in this Mexico City market, the two owners of the prominent drink stand Dolls Drinks had been murdered. Their bar was closed that weekend, but has since re-opened. Rumors abounded, but it seemed that the owners had neglected to pay extortion money to the neighborhood’s power brokers. In fact, it came out that the deceased owner had been the nephew of the founder of la Unión Tepito, the neighborhood gang, who was also murdered several years prior.
Such is the reminder that Tepito is in fact a dangerous place. Even the neighborhood’s most successful residents, who have received lots of media attention, are not immune to the darker sides of doing business there. It is in this environment that something like the azulito can be born for the sheer joy of getting drunk.
At the end of the day, the colorful drinks are cheap and intoxicating. Clearly, many revelers feel comfortable passing a Saturday afternoon beneath one of Tepito’s azulito tents. They dance and shout as they lick blue slime from the rims of their cups. Selfies are snapped with stained tongues declaring the kind of drink they had ordered.
But blue azulitos, red pitfuos, purple ultravioletas, licuachelas, and Kittychelas can also be had outside of Tepito. Puebla just hosted Mexico’s first ever Festival to the Azulito, called the Pitufibeer Festival. Still, a lot of credit is due to Tepito. The neighborhood’s true free market spirit helped to develop the colorful, sweet, and elaborate creations that are now so popular in Mexico.
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