The countdown is over. The 2026 World Cup has arrived in Mexico City.

The opening week of the festivities has transformed the Mexican capital. Mexican flags hang from bikes and balconies. Bright orange Mexican marigold flowers are appearing all over the city. Fan zones are taking shape, giant images of Mexico players loom from towering buildings, and football shirts are everywhere.

On the streets, in parks and in cafes, conversations revolve around the tournament. There is a buzz in the air.

As one of the host cities for football's biggest event, Mexico City feels vibrant, alive and full of anticipation. The sounds, the music, the smells, the atmosphere – everything seems to have an extra edge to it.

For the third time in its history, the city is preparing to welcome the world.

And yet, beneath all of that celebration, there is a striking juxtaposition.

At the Angel of Independence, one of Mexico City's most recognisable landmarks, hundreds of portraits cover the base of the monument. Men, women and children stare out from laminated posters attached to the stonework. Each image is of a person who has disappeared.

Volunteers move among the crowds handing out leaflets printed in both Spanish and English. The message on the front is direct: "WE ARE FAMILIES SEARCHING FOR MISSING PEOPLE."

"We are searching for over 133,000 missing people. People we love, miss and wait for every single day. This number is more than one and half times the capacity of Banorte stadium [Azteca stadium]," the leaflet reads.

"It is estimated that a bus full of people disappear every day in this country."

It gave more detail before concluding with the phrase: "The cup came back home. When will our loved ones?"

It was a sobering reminder of the reality that many people endure here in Mexico City.

For campaigners, the arrival of the World Cup presents a rare opportunity. The world's media has descended on Mexico in numbers not seen for years, bringing with it an audience far beyond the country's borders.

Residents describe disappearances as an issue that touches almost every community. Many say they know a family affected by it. Regular demonstrations have become a familiar part of life in the capital, as relatives search for answers and pressure authorities to do more.

In many cases, those who vanish are believed to have been forcibly recruited by criminal organisations or killed for resisting them.

The United Nations has described Mexico's disappearance crisis as 'a human tragedy of enormous proportions'.

With the opening match, four additional games at the Estadio Azteca, and 13 matches across Mexico in total, campaigners hope their message will reach people who might otherwise never hear it. That's why leaflets have been printed in English.

Former Mexico international Joaquin Beltran told the BBC that many people in Mexico are "angry with some decisions about government".

However, he said the World Cup could provide "a very good space for people who are not satisfied with the things that are happening in our country" to make their voices heard. Beltran added that his hope is that "the face we show to the world is a very good one" and that Mexicans "stay calm during the World Cup".

If there is ever a moment to spotlight a cause and bring it to the international stage, this is the week.

And this spotlight has also spilled over into other protests too.

Further along Paseo de la Reforma, near the headquarters of two of the country's national newspapers, hundreds of striking teachers had gathered beneath the buildings.

They were protesting against their pay, pensions and working conditions, with many having travelled for hours to be there. Local residents said other public-sector workers had joined them in solidarity.

The deliberate effort to make their message understood beyond Mexico continued, with some protestors translating their chants into English so visiting tourists could understand what they were fighting for.

"We don't want a World Cup," they said. "We just want better pay."

"The World Cup is not made for local people," one protester announced through a megaphone. "It's made for rich businessmen who can afford tickets."

Among many residents, attending a World Cup match is viewed as unrealistic. The suggestion of having a ticket to a game is often met with laughter.

"Tickets are far too expensive. We could never afford those," is a commonly expressed sentiment.

Instead, many fans said they planned to head to local bars and fan zones to watch the matches and soak up the atmosphere.

So, as kick-off approaches, Mexico City is presenting itself to the world as a vibrant and welcoming city that is consumed by the excitement of hosting football's biggest spectacle for the third time in its history, the only city to do so.

But amid the flags, fan zones and celebrations, there are also voices determined not to let the moment pass without being heard.

Families searching for missing loved ones, teachers demanding fairer pay, and ordinary residents questioning who truly benefits from the tournament.

For the next few weeks, the world's attention will be fixed on Mexico. But the question for many protestors is whether, once the final whistle blows, anyone will still be listening.