In the News: A Man, Some Marigolds, and a Media Moment

When a flower farmer in Veracruz invited a few passing cyclists to come and see his marigolds, he wasn’t launching a tourism campaign or trying to become an internet sensation. He was simply proud and wanted to share that pride with some strangers.

Now, as thousands of strangers are talking about visiting his community, Charlotte Smith looks at what happens when a small act of generosity captures the internet’s imagination, and why she hopes the world shows up for the man behind the flowers.

Not Don Maurino Rodríguez, but a cempasúchil farmer in Veracruz.

There are plenty of ways to go viral on the internet.

You can do something outrageous, start an argument, make a fool of yourself on camera, or spend a small fortune trying to convince strangers that your life is far more interesting than theirs.

Or you can be a flower farmer, see a few cyclists passing by, and invite them to come and see your marigolds.

Don Maurino Rodríguez lives in Zacatal, in the Tonayán area of Veracruz. He farms cempasúchil, the bright orange marigolds associated with Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebrations. A video of him welcoming passing cyclists and inviting people to visit his community’s flower festival began circulating on social media recently. Before long, 1.7 million people had seen it, as that invitation from a flower field began reaching people well beyond the small community where the flowers grow.

Now, there’s chatter about people making the trip. Many, many people.

It is a lovely story. Partly because of the flowers, partly because of the enthusiasm that has followed, but mostly because of the man at the centre of it.

Don Maurino isn’t a chiseled, polished influencer, and he wasn’t delivering a carefully rehearsed pitch or launching an elaborate tourism campaign. He was simply sharing something he was proud of. He wanted people to see his flowers and experience his community by spending a little time somewhere they might otherwise have passed.

And the internet seems to have responded to that with something approaching uncomplicated affection.

Cempasúchil is one of those flowers that carries a meaning far beyond its appearance. Its vivid orange and yellow blooms are closely associated with Día de Muertos, when families across Mexico remember loved ones who have died and welcome their spirits. The flowers are used to adorn ofrendas and cemeteries, and their colour and scent are traditionally believed to help guide the spirits of the departed back to the world of the living.

For many people, they’re an unmistakable sign that one of Mexico’s most meaningful annual traditions is approaching.

But before those flowers appear in markets and across elaborate Day of the Dead displays, someone has to grow them. That means preparing the land, planting the seeds, tending the crop, and hoping that the weather cooperates. It means months of work leading up to a relatively short period when demand is at its highest.

For the people who grow them, the flowers aren’t simply a seasonal decoration or a photogenic backdrop. They’re a livelihood.

Behind the bright blooms and the photographs visitors will inevitably take are families whose work helps sustain a tradition that holds deep cultural significance across Mexico. And if a little unexpected attention brings more people to those fields, perhaps some of that attention can translate into something tangible for the people who’ve spent their time and energy growing the flowers.

Social media has become quite skilled at making places famous. Sometimes a destination is promoted for months by tourism boards and influencers. Sometimes a restaurant becomes the place everyone suddenly wants to visit because somebody posted a video of a meal. And sometimes a person says something genuine, without any obvious expectation of a reward, and people respond because they recognise themselves in it.

Don Maurino’s invitation appears to belong to that last category.

I find it both beautiful and disarming to watch someone share a piece of their world simply because they want others to experience it. There are no elaborate sales pitches or promises of luxury, and no suggestion that the place will transform your life. Just flowers and an invitation to come and see them.

It’s easy to understand why that’s resonated with people. We spend so much time online being sold things, persuaded of things, guilted into things, and encouraged to look at people who have somehow managed to turn every aspect of their existence into a personal brand. An ordinary person extending a genuine welcome feels refreshingly different.

Mexico is full of people like this. People who take pride in what they do, who are generous with what they have, who are honest in their willingness to share, and who want others to see something worthwhile in the places they call home.

They don’t always have the marketing budgets, glossy websites, consultants, or carefully curated social media accounts that help a destination attract attention. Sometimes all they have is a willingness to open the door and say, “Come and have a look.”

And every so often, that’s enough.

Of course, going viral and welcoming a successful festival are two very different things. A video can reach hundreds of thousands of people without all that attention translating into visitors. And when people do arrive, a small community can suddenly find itself managing traffic, parking, facilities, rubbish, and all the other practicalities that come with an unexpected crowd.

Good intentions alone won’t organise a festival, and online enthusiasm doesn’t automatically put money into the pockets of the people who need it most. So, the real measure of this story won’t be the number of views Don Maurino’s invitation received. It’ll be what happens when people actually turn up.

Will they buy flowers? Will they support local vendors? Will they eat at local restaurants, venture into local businesses, discover the surrounding area, and leave with a greater appreciation for the people who live and work there? And will the community be able to welcome them without being overwhelmed by the attention?

Tourism can bring welcome opportunities to communities that are often overlooked, but the best kind of tourism doesn’t have to treat a place as a backdrop for photographs. It can recognise that real people live there, work there, and have a stake in what happens when the visitors arrive.

If this festival brings business to local families and gives people a reason to discover a corner of Veracruz they might never otherwise have visited, then a simple invitation could have a genuinely positive impact. Wouldn’t that be a rather wonderful outcome for a story that began with a man and his flowers?

The Second Festival de Cempasúchil Zacatal begins tomorrow, October 17, with activities scheduled through November 1. The fields and surrounding community are preparing to welcome people drawn by the flowers and the story that’s travelled so far beyond them.

I can’t wait to see what happens.

Because here’s a man who wasn’t trying to become famous. He wasn’t trying to build a personal brand or turn himself into an internet sensation. He was just proud of his community and wanted to share it with a few passing cyclists. So, he opened his mouth, extended an invitation and, before he knew it, strangers were talking about coming to see his flowers.

We spend an awful lot of time online watching people tear one another apart, arguing over things that probably won’t matter tomorrow and chasing attention for attention’s sake. Then along comes Don Maurino, who simply wants people to visit his corner of Veracruz, and suddenly we’re all rooting for him.

I love that. And I’m pretty sure I love him.

I hope the internet can do one useful thing this week and show up for the man who sadly felt the need to apologize for being in his work clothes while on video. I hope his, and all the other fields, are full. I hope the flower sales are brilliant. I hope the entire community feels the love.

And I hope Don Maurino has a moment when he can stop, take it all in, and think, “Well, would you look at that,” because his man deserves the world. I hope he gets a little piece of it in his field full of flowers.