'Arraigo,' a Moving Portrait of a Fading Mérida, Debuts

“Arraigo” is a very special book that captures the spaces and lives of Yucatecans whose lives are rooted in the heart of a rapidly changing city. This week, two presentations of Bénédicte Desrus’s new book will occur just blocks from the very homes and residents it depicts.

The first presentation will take place 6 p.m. Wednesday, October 22, at Fábrica de Mosaicos La Peninsular, Calle 62 619 x 79 y 85, Centro. Participants include Ignacio Durán, Luis Millet Cámara, Salvador Reyes Ríos, and the author herself. With free entry and limited capacity (50 people), this gathering will unfold in a workshop that produces the traditional mosaic tiles found in many of the homes Desrus documented.

The following evening, at 7 p..m. on Thursday, October 23, the presentation moves to the Museo Regional de Antropología de Yucatán at Palacio Cantón, Paseo de Montejo and Calle 43. Here, joining Desrus will be Ariel Avilés Marín, Carlos Gutiérrez Pérez and Luis Millet Cámara, in a conversation framed by the museum’s historic architecture.

At both events, books are available for 800 pesos, and the author will be on hand to sign them. Space is limited, so visitors are advised to arrive half an hour early.

About Bénédicte Desrus

Bénédicte Desrus is a French documentary photographer who has spent over two decades building an internationally acclaimed career documenting marginalized communities worldwide. Originally trained in visual arts and typography, she transitioned to photography in 2005 with a project about street children in Lima, Peru. Her work—distributed by Sipa Press USA and featured in The New York Times, National Geographic, Time, and Al Jazeera—has explored the resilience of communities often overlooked by society, from elderly sex workers in Mexico City to persecuted minorities in Uganda and Tanzania. Desrus’s work has also been published in Yucatán Magazine, where she depicts various subjects, from environmentalists to rock musicians.

After living in Mérida for four years, Desrus and her family moved to Mexico City, and these events represent somewhat of a homecoming.

A Methodical Process

Between 2023 and 2025, Desrus walked block by block through the entire center of Mérida, knocking on doors and asking residents to be photographed in their homes. The process required building trust with strangers and asking them to open their most private spaces to documentation.

“Allowing an outsider to make a photograph of you in your most private space requires mutual trust,” Desrus explains. “And when I felt a person was not comfortable, I didn’t push.”

To facilitate understanding, she printed photographs from earlier sessions to show prospective participants. Some residents opened their doors immediately; others required multiple visits or family consultations. Some gave appointments and weren’t present when she arrived. Others declined to participate. Ultimately, 61 homes were photographed for the project.

What the Camera Found

The interiors Desrus documented contain objects preserved across generations: family altars, photographs of ancestors, antique furniture, original wooden doors and windows, traditional pasta mosaic floors, and walls showing the marks of time. These spaces—some sparsely furnished, others filled with decorative elements beneath high ceilings—form what Desrus describes as “the essence of Mérida.”

Beyond the visual documentation, Desrus conducted interviews with residents, recording their memories of family and city. They discussed their attachment to living in the center, being born in inherited houses, relationships with neighbors, loneliness following deaths of family and friends, the loss of customs and the importance of preservation, and pride in their identity and heritage. They recalled previous eras and described urban and architectural changes—the deterioration and abandonment of some houses, the restoration of others.

Dulce María, 72, stated: “Yo aquí nací y aquí me voy a morir” (I was born here and here I will die).

Indira, at 39 the youngest person in the book, explained: “I’ve lived in this house since I was a baby. I don’t plan to sell it. I think I’ll give it to my children to divide in half. It has sentimental value because it belonged to my great-grandparents.”

The project was influenced by Desrus’s earlier work during the Pandemic, when she photographed her son Thiago in an empty house in Mérida for a project titled “When I Grow Up.” That experience, she notes, shaped her thinking about “intimacy, surrounding and belonging” and “marking a time.”

Both projects feature what she describes as “intimate portraits in a natural and authentic surrounding.”

Documenting Change

The significance of the documentation became evident when Desrus returned to visit some participants. Two had died—Josefina and Armando. Josefina’s home had been emptied, sold, and was being renovated. “She died and it felt like all her story is left behind,” Desrus observed. “So it’s when I felt this visual record preserved her memory.”

Regarding the role of documentary photography in a city experiencing rapid growth and international attention, Desrus states: “The book represents a cultural and historical heritage that contributes to the construction of the memory of the center of Mérida. It’s a record about everyday life, culture, heritage, and Yucatecan identity in the heart of the city.”

“Arraigo” was made possible through support from multiple institutions: the Ayuntamiento de Mérida, Fábrica de Mosaicos La Peninsular, Fundación Roberto Abraham A.C., Universidad Marista de Mérida A.C., Universidad Modelo, and Yucatán Magazine, whose editorial director Lee Steele interviewed Desrus about the project (a preview of the book appears in Issue 16 of Yucatán Magazine’s quarterly print publication).

Asked how she balances creating images accessible to international viewers while maintaining local authenticity, Desrus responds: “I don’t balance, it’s documentary photography meaning I capture what’s there and as it is. I feel these photographs are accessible to national and international viewers because we can all relate to belonging to some place.”

The book’s title—”Arraigo”—refers to deep roots and belonging, the state of being firmly connected to place. The work documents residents who maintain their connection to the center of Mérida as the city undergoes transformation.