"People don't want to farm anymore," Garduño lamented. "They don't see it as a necessity, and there's little demand for the products." Despite the challenges, Garduño and a group of fellow farmers are collaborating to preserve and promote traditional chinampa agriculture. "None of this can exist without human hands—those who worked here and created the chinampa a thousand years ago," she noted, inhaling the fresh scent of celery from nearby crops.

The gardens, intersected by canals in the southern borough of Xochimilco, are constructed from layers of dredged soil, supported by tall ahuejotes—willow trees that line their borders. Xochimilco encompasses over 2,500 acres of protected land that has been cultivated by generations of chinamperos, or chinampa farmers.

Garduño fondly recalls gazing through her grandparents' window at the bustling canals, observing how the chinampas began to decline due to urban pressure and a diminishing number of active farmers. After her grandfather passed away in 2010 and her uncles chose not to continue farming, Garduño took it upon herself to learn about and preserve this heritage. Initially met with skepticism from neighbors, she purchased land for her own chinampa in 2020, cultivating various crops like sunflowers, eggplant, and the vibrant Mexican marigold known as cempasuchil.

Now, at 32, Garduño is part of a growing collective called Chinampa Refuge, initiated by the National Autonomous University of Mexico. Together with other farmers, they encourage chinamperos to maintain their lands. They employ ancient farming techniques while also exploring new commercial strategies to compete with cheaper produce from large-scale farms. This includes a special label—Etiqueta Chinampera—that informs buyers about the quality of the produce and the chinampa's role in preserving biodiversity.

"Change comes with educating the new generations," Garduño stated. "We must discuss the origins and the importance of conservation." Luis Zambrano, an ecologist with decades of experience in Xochimilco, highlighted the self-sustaining nature of these fields. Benefiting from the lake's nutrients, chinampas can yield three to five vegetable crops annually without chemicals or irrigation.

Moreover, Xochimilco's ecosystem supports diverse bird and fish species, with the canals helping to moderate the city's temperature. However, on weekends, it is increasingly common to see soccer players instead of farmers on the islands, with new soccer fields spreading along the canals over the past two to three years.

In Xochimilco, many landowners are hesitant to consider transforming chinampas into soccer fields. One anonymous landowner expressed concerns about potential backlash for discussing the conversion. She cited the greater work and financial investment required for farming compared to establishing profitable businesses like soccer fields and food stands for tourists.

"If you do well farming, you could earn $5,000 to $10,000 a year," Garduño explained. "In the tourist sector, you could make that in just a couple of weekends." However, converting agricultural lands has ecological consequences. While traditional farming avoids harmful chemicals, the maintenance of soccer fields often involves significant pollution.

Zambrano acknowledged that the absence of construction may make the fields appear less harmful, but the environmental impact from chemicals used is considerable. The chinampas significantly contributed to the UNESCO designation of Mexico City's historic center and Xochimilco as a world heritage site. Yet, protective measures depend on the actions of federal, state, and local authorities. Carlos Vasquez, director of the Natural Protected Areas under Mexico City's Environmental Department, noted that proposals are being developed to regulate the expansion of soccer fields, many of which threaten ecological conservation.

After a long day in the sun, Garduño and her fellow farmers gather under her makeshift hut for a meal of chicken and tortillas, discussing their tasks and future plans. Juan Ávalos, 63, and his brother Salvador Gonzalez Ávalos, 55, lifelong chinampa workers, have embraced Garduño's holistic approach to farming after joining Chinampa Refuge a year ago. Salvador emphasized the importance of passing down their agricultural legacy to future generations. "That's something we need to work on as grandparents," he said. "We want them to develop a connection to this land."