In the heart of Mexico City, the Tabacalera neighborhood has become a refuge for thousands of Mexicans deported by the Trump administration. With streets that evoke Los Angeles, jobs, and community support, 'Little LA' offers a second chance to those who lived decades in the U.S. and now feel like strangers in their own land.

A Slice of Los Angeles in Mexico City

The Tabacalera neighborhood, in downtown Mexico City, has earned the nickname 'Little LA' not only for its look: wide avenues lined with palm trees, quaint coffee shops, and traditional cantinas, but also for the English and Spanish mixing on its streets. But the nickname goes beyond appearances: in recent years, this corner has become a refuge for thousands of Mexicans deported from the United States, especially those who spent decades across the border and for whom Mexico now feels like a foreign country.

With the Trump administration intensifying its anti-immigrant offensive, deportations to Mexico have surged. Since taking office for a second term in January 2025, Trump has deported approximately 145,500 Mexicans, according to data cited by The Guardian.

The Story of Christopher Gil Ortíz

One of them is Christopher Gil Ortíz, who was detained in June of this year while driving to work in Los Angeles. Agents from ICE (U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement) handcuffed him and took him to a detention center. After months living in constant fear as an undocumented immigrant, Ortíz felt relief upon being detained: “At that moment I thought, well, that's it, I'm going back. Like a weight lifted off my shoulders”, he recalled.

After more than 30 years since leaving Mexico as a child, Ortíz was sent back, leaving behind his wife and two young children. Deported to Tulum, he headed to Cancún, where he was robbed of all his belongings. He finally arrived in Mexico City, where he had family. “I was nervous. Even though I was born here, I have very vague memories of the city”, he confessed.

New Comienzos: A Reintegration Lab

His sister sent him a TikTok video of the organization New Comienzos, based in Little LA, dedicated to helping returnees reintegrate. After seeing it, Ortíz decided to visit the neighborhood. “Seeing the palm trees makes you feel like you're in Los Angeles”, he said, grateful to the organization. “There are many people going through what I'm going through, and I'm sure there will be more”.

The founder of New Comienzos, Israel Concha, is preparing for an even bigger wave: “The environment in the U.S. right now is one of humanitarian crisis and panic. People don't even want to take their kids to school. We'll probably see mass deportations in a few months”, he warned.

The Founder's Own Difficult Journey

Concha knows firsthand what it's like to lose everything. In 2012, he lived in Texas with his pregnant wife and ran a successful private transportation business after 30 years in the U.S. “I wanted to achieve the American dream and I think I did”. But a speeding ticket led to his detention, and after a two-year legal battle, he was deported in 2014. On his first day in Mexico, he was kidnapped by a criminal gang working with local police. “That was my welcome to my home country”, he recounted.

After being brutally beaten, Concha escaped to Mexico City, where he found work in a bilingual call center, one of several that were beginning to spring up in Tabacalera, attracting young returnees with fluent English. Less than a year later, he founded New Comienzos. “People didn't just need jobs; many needed emotional support because they had just lost everything after a deportation”, he explained.

The organization offers legal support, certification, free English classes, and mentorship for newcomers. Little LA remains its base of operations. “A community reintegration lab”, Concha calls it.

The Case of Sergio Aaron Pérez

Sergio Aaron Pérez, 36, wears a Los Angeles Lakers jersey and a baseball cap; his face and arms are covered in tattoos. He lived more than 30 years in the U.S. and was deported in 2011 for what he calls “bad things”. In Little LA, he found work in call centers: “If you speak English, there's good money. I love my city. There's a lot of community”, he said.

Ortíz's Future

Ortíz, for his part, doesn't want to work in a call center. He has already applied for a job at a glass factory, work he did in the U.S. His next goal: to bring his wife and children to Mexico. “My kids are on board”, he said, adding with a nod to local custom, “My daughter told me she's already practicing drinking soda from a plastic bag”.