The timing of the first of several recent anti-gentrification protests in Mexico City was no coincidence - 4 July, US Independence Day.
Demonstrators gathered in Parque México in Condesa district – the epicentre of gentrification in the Mexican capital – to protest over a range of grievances.
Most were angry at exorbitant rent hikes, unregulated holiday lettings, and the endless influx of Americans and Europeans into the city's trendy neighbourhoods forcing out long-term residents.
In Condesa alone, estimates suggest that as many as one in five homes is now a short-term let or a tourist dwelling.
Others also cited more prosaic changes, like restaurant menus in English, or milder hot sauces at the taco stands to cater for sensitive foreign palates.
But as it moved through the gentrified streets, the initially peaceful protest turned ugly.
Radical demonstrators attacked coffee shops and boutique stores aimed at tourists, smashing windows, intimidating customers, spraying graffiti and chanting Fuera Gringo!, meaning Gringos Out!.
At her next daily press conference, President Claudia Sheinbaum condemned the violence as xenophobic.
No matter how legitimate the cause, the demand cannot be to simply say 'Get out!' to people of other nationalities inside our country, she said.
Masked radicals and agitators aside though, the motivation for most people who turned out on 4 July was stories like Erika Aguilar's.
After more than 45 years of her family renting the same Mexico City apartment, the beginning of the end came with a knock at the door in 2017.
Long-term residents of the Prim Building, a 1920s architectural gem located in La Juárez district, they were visited by officials clutching eviction papers.
Erika, the eldest daughter, recalls the shocking news: They came to every apartment in the building and told us we had until the end of the month to vacate the premises, as they weren't going to renew our rental contracts.
Today, her old home is covered by tarpaulin and scaffolding, as a construction team converts it into luxury apartments designed for short and medium-term rentals.
It's not a construction for people like me, Erika – a newspaper layout designer – comments ruefully.
His group has recorded more than 4,000 cases of forced displacement of residents with roots from La Juárez district over the past decade.
His fears are echoed by other residents: some accuse the recent American and European arrivals of being tone deaf to Mexican customs.
Erika understands these sentiments but sees the broader implications of tourism as a financial boon for Mexico.
Tourists, including recent arrivals from the US seeking lower living costs, have increasingly flocked to Mexico City during the pandemic, complicating the narrative on gentrification and displacement.
Ultimately, the conflict highlights a debate over the future of urban spaces against the backdrop of globalization and cultural preservation, as the streets of Mexico City continue to evolve under pressure.