The Brief

When we first met “Nono” last summer she was living in an encampment under the 405 Freeway, straddling the Los Angeles neighborhood of Palms and Culver City. She’d been living there for several years in a tent, relying on volunteers and people in her community for resources like food, water and harm reduction.

The group that provided these resources to Nono — and dozens of other unhoused people at the encampment — is called PUMA, or Palms Unhoused Mutual Aid. It’s not a formal nonprofit but a group of volunteers who come together every week to provide things like clean needles, antiseptic wipes and Narcan — not to mention homemade burritos.

“They save lives and that's a big deal,” Nono told us in August. “That's really hard to say in, like, homeless communities.”

The idea of harm reduction is not to encourage use. Providing these tools is proven to prevent death or infection among the users, keeping people alive until they can maybe get some more permanent help in the way of housing or substance abuse treatment.

Months after we first met Nono, the encampment where she’d been living was cleared out. As part of that October sweep, Nono was given a voucher for a motel, a key element in L.A. Mayor Karen Bass’s Inside Safe program. Here’s Nono in a video produced by the mayor’s office where she’s referred to as “Noelia.”

“I walked in and literally that was the first time I felt safety and peace and a sense of 'this is the beginning of the rest of my life,'” she tells the camera.

The How to LA team recently caught up with her and others near the motel, which is south of Palms on Sepulveda, to talk about life in the Inside Safe program.

Living in a motel

The Inside Safe motels are independent contractors and people's experiences can vary depending on the location. So one person's experiences won't paint a complete picture of the program, which includes dozens of motels across the city and hundreds of people living inside of them.

On the evening we spent with Nono, at this motel, PUMA volunteers are supplying people with harm reduction tools like glass pipes and needle tips in different lengths — also toothbrushes.

Ndindi Kitonga, founder of PUMA, Palms Unhoused Mutual Aid

(

Noe Montes

/

LAist

)

“What brought us here is people are letting us know that they don't have adequate food, that they don't have harm reduction services,” says Ndindi Kitonga, cofounder of PUMA, “and that they are reviving each other, using the Narcan that they have.”

Nono agrees to talk to us, but she asks us to stop recording after a few minutes. She’s lost a lot of weight and says she isn’t feeling great.

“I'm under so much stress because of the security situation over here. It's just ridiculous,” she says. “They kicked my parents out.”

There’s a no visitors rule at this motel.

Nono says she hadn’t seen her parents “in ages.” “What if they’re all I had?” she asks. “Well, I don't even have them, and that was like the one time I’d seen them.”

Kitonga explains: “You cannot have visitors, even if that visitor is your motel mate, meaning someone who lives next door to you.”

Kitonga and her fellow PUMA volunteers have worked with people placed in Inside Safe motels before and says the “no visitor policy” is not always enforced. But it is at this motel.

Sign forbidding visitors to residents of a motel that's part of the Inside Safe Program.

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Noé Montes

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LAist

)

High hopes

Nono wants the Inside Safe program to work for her.

As you hear in the video from Mayor Bass’s office, she is optimistic about its promise. “This is finally the catapult that I've been waiting for, believing in, dreaming of and it's, it's all because, because of this project,” Nono said in that video.

So far, she says she hasn’t felt that safe.

Nono told us her doctor is concerned by her extreme weight loss, and that she got beat up on the sidewalk in front of the motel as someone stole her bike and wallet. And the “no visitors” rule makes her feel like she doesn't have any autonomy over her life anymore.

A man who says his name is Ivory Michaels joins the conversation with Nono.

“Your family can't visit. You know, you can't have people that may be your therapist,” he says. “They're not felons. These are grown people. What are you trying to do, isolate them?”

Michaels is not staying at the hotel. He lives in a tent across the street. He told us he used to be in the Inside Safe program but had his motel voucher revoked because, he says, he was labeled “defiant” after asking for clean linens and being told he could not have them.

“You're right, I am defiant,” he says. “I'm a grown man. I'm 53 years old. I shouldn't have limitations brought on me. You know? It's angersome.”

The rules being enforced at these places — from no visitors to limits on how many belongings one can bring in — have long been a sore point for some of the folks living in these interim housing programs, whether its through Inside Safe or something like a Tiny Homes project. The criticisms go at least as far back as the height of the pandemic, when unhoused people were moved into hotels and motels to prevent the spread of COVID-19.

“Let me say this, it's not perfect, it's not meant to be the panacea. But it's one huge, proactive, step forward for those who've been suffering greatly,” says L.A. City Councilman Kevin de León who has a Tiny Home village in his district. “There's criticism that's abundant on Tiny Homes, don't let the perfect get in the way of the good.”

A motel in Culver City that's part of the Inside Safe program.

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Noé Montes

/

LAist

)

It's the imperfect part of these programs — the lack of autonomy, the services and the feelings of isolation — that drive mutual aid volunteers like Kitonga to do what they do.

After the encampment where Nono was living in Palms was cleared out by city officials, Kitonga says, “People ended up in three motels. One is off of the 90, so still far away if you consider if you don't have a car, and then a bunch of other people were moved to South L.A.”

So, she adds: “You just have people who've just been in a limbo in motel rooms with very few services, loss of their community and what have you,” she says.

About 1 in 6 people choose to leave the Inside Safe program.

An imperfect solution

The primary goal for officials in L.A. City and L.A. County is to get unhoused people off the streets and, first, into interim housing. The idea being that those much needed services — water, food, a sense of security — will be satisfied once people can get inside.

In theory, that’s when the Band-Aids provided by mutual aid volunteers, like Kitonga, can come off.

“We had to choose between providing those services and organizing those efforts… and actually looking for housing for people,” says L.A. City Councilmember Nithya Raman, “where they could access those services in the context of a motel or a hotel room or a shelter site of some kind.”

Inside Safe is the mayor's flagship interim housing program and, by far, the largest. It's also the city's biggest response in terms of dollars spent. About 8,000 people have obtained a voucher for a room in one of the 38 available motels or hotels in the city.

According to our analysis of data released by the city, these vouchers cost about $8,000 per unit, per month, including additional costs like insurance. Since the program began last December, Inside Safe has incurred a total of $93.8 million in expenses.

People are promised three meals per day in addition to things like hygiene services and the overdose prevention resource Narcan. But so far, these needs are not being fully met.

L.A. Mayor Karen Bass acknowledges the drawbacks. “We are building the plane while we fly it,” she says. “Mistakes are made along the way. We're learning about gaps and things that are woefully inadequate.”

Lack of permanent housing

The goal of the program is to offer an alternative to the street while people wait for permanent housing.

That transition has been slow.

The mayor “seemed to really expect that there would be a lot more available [places] for people to transition from the motels and Inside Safe spots to this longer-term housing,” says Nick Gerda, who covers unhoused communities for LAist. But “she’s running into this structural issue of a lack of affordable housing options for people.”

He notes that only “a couple hundred people” have been able to move on to a permanent place to live.

That means, he says, “The motels are largely full. There's much less capacity for people to move off the streets into the motels.”

“I wish we had a much better situation,” says Mayor Bass. “I don't think that moving people into motels, number one, is financially sustainable. But I was not going to accept the idea that while we're doing this stuff that people have to die on the streets. I think a motel room is better than somebody being in the street and possibly raped or killed.”

The Band-Aid remains

The city is not the only player when it comes to housing. Los Angeles County is responsible for providing mental health services, as well as other public health resources. But they spend a lot of money and time on housing, too.

Then there's LAHSA, the Los Angeles Homelessness Authority, the joint agency that sits between L.A. City and L.A. County.

“The bulk of what LAHSA does is refunding non profit groups, that provide the bulk of the homeless services in our system, especially the outreach work,” says Paul Rubenstein, LAHSA's deputy chief external relations officer, “the work that helps people find apartments, the work that helps people stay in apartments.”

Still, there are tens of thousands of Angelenos experiencing unsheltered homelessness. Less than half of them currently have access to one of these temporary housing programs.

“I always compare us to New York City,” says Raman, who was elected to the city council in 2020 and is up for reelection next year. “There are more unhoused people in New York than the county of Los Angeles, but only a couple of thousand … are living on the streets.”

That’s due to a court-mandated effort in the 1980s to have as many available shelter beds as unhoused people in the city.

“We don't have those shelter beds,” says Raman, “and as a result we have the astounding statistic that more people succumb to extreme weather conditions on the streets of Los Angeles than they do in the city of New York.”

Palms Unhoused Mutual Aid volunteers distributing supplies to unhoused and housing insecure people.

(

Noé Montes

/

LAist

)

Medical supplies provided by Palms Unhoused Mutual Aid to unhoused and housing insecure people.

(

Noé Montes

/

LAist

)

And so — to come full circle — it's these gaps that require the mutual aid groups to step in.

That is, until a more permanent fix can be found.

“I understand that no one individual or no one program or no one approach is actually at the heart or the problem of what's going on here because the social problems really are poverty, gendered violence, structural racism, gentrification,” says PUMA’s Kitonga. “They are the big ‘isms’ so, yes, I understand how and why the mayor is overwhelmed. They underestimated the scale and undertheorized what's going on here.”

Best friends Fernando Delgado and Josh Lee are still riding the high of seeing both their homelands — Mexico and South Korea — win their opening matches at the 2026 World Cup.

That was the easy part.

Now, their teams are going head-to-head and Delgado is hoping for a miracle, but not in the way you might think.

" A draw would be the ideal case," he says. "Because I think other than that, it's gonna be like, 'Oh man.'"

For all of the rivalries and bad blood that sports can foster, something different is in the air ahead of the Mexico vs. South Korea match on Thursday.

Earlier this month, when South Korea's squad arrived at their hotel in Guadalajara, Mexico, they were welcomed by hundreds of Mexican supporters. On social media, countless videos show fun-loving South Korean tourists partying and enjoying World Cup festivities with locals in Mexico — often with the caption, "Coreano, hermano ya eres Mexicano," meaning "Korean, brother, you are Mexican now."

Fans of South Korean and Mexico celebrate together in Guadalajara, Mexico, after the 2026 World Cup match between South Korea and the Czech Republic on June 11.

(

Ivan Arias

/

Reuters

)

The chant is a callback to the 2018 World Cup, the last time the two nations squared off on the global stage. Eight years later, as El Tri and the Taegeuk Warriors face off once again, fans from both sides are rekindling that brotherly love, adding that it's a reflection of a much deeper affinity between the two communities.

"Since then, this idea of Coreano Hermano has really persisted," Lee says, and "led to this greater appreciation for both national teams and both peoples."

How "Coreano, hermano" began

The camaraderie blossomed after the final matches of the group stage at the 2018 World Cup in Russia. After a shocking loss to Sweden, Mexico's chances of advancing to the next round hinged on South Korea beating the defending champions, Germany. Against all odds, the Asian squad pulled off the upset.

The win wasn't enough for South Korea to move forward in the World Cup. But the team was hailed as champions by grateful Mexican fans. Most famously, in Mexico City, supporters marched to the South Korean Embassy, where they hoisted the consul general, Han Byoung-jin, onto their shoulders.

Ray An, a Korean American from Fresno, Calif., was in Russia for the tournament. He recalls being showered with hugs, cheers and shots of tequila. Although he was initially disappointed by South Korea's early exit, those encounters gave him a new perspective.

"This is so much more than football. This is just so much more than winning and losing," he says. "This is what it's really about, right? Creating core memories with strangers in a foreign land."

Years later, An says the 2018 World Cup continues to be a point of connection whenever he meets someone from Mexico.

" Looking back, I mean maybe in the long run, this is actually a better thing for us to have happened," he says, referring to South Korea's failure to advance.

A picture of Mexico and South Korea's flags.

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Karla Gachet for NPR

)

Geopolitically, Mexico and South Korea are growing closer

When diplomatic relations between South Korea and Mexico formally began in 1962, the friendship was a slow burn, according to José Luis León-Manríquez, who teaches East Asian studies at the Metropolitan Autonomous University in Mexico City.

At the time, there was a strong nationalist sentiment in Mexico, León-Manríquez says, which made the country cautious of building ties with U.S. allies such as South Korea. It wasn't until the late 1980s that the two nations made headway, largely through trade and the arrival of Korean factories in Mexico. This also led to a wave of Korean migration to the country, León-Manríquez says.

" After that, links between both countries have increased a lot. Both in political, but especially in cultural and economic terms," he says.

Today, South Korea is one of Mexico's top trading partners. There's also a sizable Koreatown in Mexico City. Further north, the city of Pesquería — home to a Kia Motors manufacturing plant— is nicknamed "Pescorea" to reflect its large Korean community.

Culturally, Mexico has been swept up in the K-wave — which refers to the global craze for South Korean pop culture. In 2025, Mexico ranked fifth among countries that play the most K-pop, according to Spotify.

Jung Kook (center) and Suga (right) from South Korean K-pop band BTS acknowledge fans next to Mexico's President Claudia Sheinbaum from the balcony of the National Palace at Zocalo square in Mexico City on May 6.

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Yuri Cortez

/

AFP via Getty Images

)

A friendship on and off the field

Korean and Mexican soccer fans have a number of theories for the warm ties.

Jean Lim Flores, a Korean American from Los Angeles, attributes it to both teams' underdog status. Despite their rich talent, neither have made it past the round of 16 in over 20 years. Most stubbornly, Mexico hasn't played in the quarterfinals since 1986. South Korea's deepest run was in 2002, when it reached the semifinals and placed fourth.

"Neither of our countries have won the World Cup," she says. "It would be exciting to see either Korea or Mexico win."

Her husband, Shon Flores, who is Mexican American, believes both teams have more heated rivals to focus on, like Japan for South Korea or Brazil and the U.S. for Mexico.

Consul General of Mexico Carlos González Gutiérrez (center) and Consul General of South Korea Youngwan Kim attend a match between Mexican clubs Chivas de Guadalajara and Atlas in Los Angeles on March 29.

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The Consulate General of Mexico in Los Angeles

)

"I can see a lot of this coming together and closeness between some of the other teams, but I don't know about U.S. vs. Mexico," he says.

Others say the kinship over soccer is simply a reflection of the growing connections that already exist, like in Los Angeles, which is home to the largest Korean and Mexican population in the U.S.

Carlos González Gutiérrez and Youngwan Kim are not only consul generals of Mexico and South Korea based in L.A., but they're good friends, partly through their shared love for soccer. Months ago, the pair made a friendly bet over Thursday's match, which kicks off at 9 p.m. ET. If Mexico loses, González Gutiérrez will gift Kim a bottle of tequila. If the opposite happens, Kim will send over some soju. It's not (entirely) about bragging rights.

" This is a sign of friendship between our two countries," González Gutiérrez told NPR recently, adding that it's a "reflection of what already happens in this city on a daily basis."

Over the past year, in L.A.'s Koreatown, where Latino and Asian Americans make up the majority of the neighborhood, many residents have come together against immigration raids.

Paul "PK" Kim is hoping the World Cup will be a chance to unite over some much needed fun and reprieve. Kim is the marketing director at the Los Angeles Korean Festival Foundation, which is organizing a watch party in the heart of Koreatown on Thursday.

"There's always some awkward tension because everybody's competitive," he says. " The more important thing is being together."

Josh Lee and members of the Los Angeles Football Club's Tigers Supporters Group watch the World Cup match between South Korea and the Czech Republic on June 11.

(

<i>Karla Gachet for NPR</i>

)

"En las buenas y en las malas"

Best friends Lee and Delgado met at a watch party for a Los Angeles Football Club game in 2018. Now, the two help lead one of the MLS club's supporters groups, Tigers.

Lee says the group often sings a song that goes, "En las buenas y en las malas." That's how he's approaching Thursday's match — although he says he would like to see South Korea beat Mexico once on the global stage.

"In the good and the bad, we're celebrating together," he says.

Bonyub Koo and Mirella Vargas, a Korean American and Mexican American married couple in L.A., will be rooting for opposing teams come Thursday. But in a way, that makes it more fun.

" Once we found out that they were going to play against each other, we were super happy," she says, calling it "a friendly competition."

Mirella Vargas and her husband, Bonyub Koo, watch a soccer match with their dog in Los Angeles on June 11.

(

<i>Karla Gachet for NPR</i>

)

When the two started dating in 2019, soccer was among the first things they bonded over. Now married, Koo says he's more excited to watch Mexico vs. South Korea than the World Cup final. Given his love for both teams, he can't imagine a scenario where he will come away feeling disappointed.

" Whoever wins, that's my team," he says.

What does the past tell us about the possible outcome on Thursday? Well, the two squads faced off most recently last year at an international friendly in Nashville, Tenn. The final score? 2-2.

Emanuel Hahn, a Korean American photographer based in New York, says he wouldn't be mad if history repeats itself. Hahn, Lee and An are the creators behind the docuseries Korea, Away about the Korean diaspora and their fandom for South Korea's soccer team.

"If we drew with Mexico, I think it would be the ultimate sort of handshake moment," he says. "It's crazy because I don't know if I would say that about any other country."

Copyright 2026 NPR

LOS ANGELES — Best friends Fernando Delgado and Josh Lee are still riding the high of seeing both their homelands — Mexico and South Korea — win their opening matches at the 2026 World Cup.

That was the easy part.

Now, their teams are going head-to-head and Delgado is hoping for a miracle, but not in the way you might think.

" A draw would be the ideal case," he says. "Because I think other than that, it's gonna be like, 'Oh man.'"

For all of the rivalries and bad blood that sports can foster, something different is in the air ahead of the Mexico vs. South Korea match on Thursday.

Earlier this month, when South Korea's squad arrived at their hotel in Guadalajara, Mexico, they were welcomed by hundreds of Mexican supporters. On social media, countless videos show fun-loving South Korean tourists partying and enjoying World Cup festivities with locals in Mexico — often with the caption, "Coreano, hermano ya eres Mexicano," meaning "Korean, brother, you are Mexican now."

Fans of South Korean and Mexico celebrate together in Guadalajara, Mexico, after the 2026 World Cup match between South Korea and the Czech Republic on June 11.

(

Ivan Arias

/

Reuters

)

The chant is a callback to the 2018 World Cup, the last time the two nations squared off on the global stage. Eight years later, as El Tri and the Taegeuk Warriors face off once again, fans from both sides are rekindling that brotherly love, adding that it's a reflection of a much deeper affinity between the two communities.

"Since then, this idea of Coreano Hermano has really persisted," Lee says, and "led to this greater appreciation for both national teams and both peoples."

How "Coreano, hermano" began

The camaraderie blossomed after the final matches of the group stage at the 2018 World Cup in Russia. After a shocking loss to Sweden, Mexico's chances of advancing to the next round hinged on South Korea beating the defending champions, Germany. Against all odds, the Asian squad pulled off the upset.

The win wasn't enough for South Korea to move forward in the World Cup. But the team was hailed as champions by grateful Mexican fans. Most famously, in Mexico City, supporters marched to the South Korean Embassy, where they hoisted the consul general, Han Byoung-jin, onto their shoulders.

Ray An, a Korean American from Fresno, Calif., was in Russia for the tournament. He recalls being showered with hugs, cheers and shots of tequila. Although he was initially disappointed by South Korea's early exit, those encounters gave him a new perspective.

"This is so much more than football. This is just so much more than winning and losing," he says. "This is what it's really about, right? Creating core memories with strangers in a foreign land."

Years later, An says the 2018 World Cup continues to be a point of connection whenever he meets someone from Mexico.

" Looking back, I mean maybe in the long run, this is actually a better thing for us to have happened," he says, referring to South Korea's failure to advance.

A picture of Mexico and South Korea's flags.

(

Karla Gachet for NPR

)

Geopolitically, Mexico and South Korea are growing closer

When diplomatic relations between South Korea and Mexico formally began in 1962, the friendship was a slow burn, according to José Luis León-Manríquez, who teaches East Asian studies at the Metropolitan Autonomous University in Mexico City.

At the time, there was a strong nationalist sentiment in Mexico, León-Manríquez says, which made the country cautious of building ties with U.S. allies such as South Korea. It wasn't until the late 1980s that the two nations made headway, largely through trade and the arrival of Korean factories in Mexico. This also led to a wave of Korean migration to the country, León-Manríquez says.

" After that, links between both countries have increased a lot. Both in political, but especially in cultural and economic terms," he says.

Today, South Korea is one of Mexico's top trading partners. There's also a sizable Koreatown in Mexico City. Further north, the city of Pesquería — home to a Kia Motors manufacturing plant— is nicknamed "Pescorea" to reflect its large Korean community.

Culturally, Mexico has been swept up in the K-wave — which refers to the global craze for South Korean pop culture. In 2025, Mexico ranked fifth among countries that play the most K-pop, according to Spotify.

Jung Kook (center) and Suga (right) from South Korean K-pop band BTS acknowledge fans next to Mexico's President Claudia Sheinbaum from the balcony of the National Palace at Zocalo square in Mexico City on May 6.

(

Yuri Cortez

/

AFP via Getty Images

)

A friendship on and off the field

Korean and Mexican soccer fans have a number of theories for the warm ties.

Jean Lim Flores, a Korean American from Los Angeles, attributes it to both teams' underdog status. Despite their rich talent, neither have made it past the round of 16 in over 20 years. Most stubbornly, Mexico hasn't played in the quarterfinals since 1986. South Korea's deepest run was in 2002, when it reached the semifinals and placed fourth.

"Neither of our countries have won the World Cup," she says. "It would be exciting to see either Korea or Mexico win."

Her husband, Shon Flores, who is Mexican American, believes both teams have more heated rivals to focus on, like Japan for South Korea or Brazil and the U.S. for Mexico.

Consul General of Mexico Carlos González Gutiérrez (center) and Consul General of South Korea Youngwan Kim attend a match between Mexican clubs Chivas de Guadalajara and Atlas in Los Angeles on March 29.

(

The Consulate General of Mexico in Los Angeles

)

"I can see a lot of this coming together and closeness between some of the other teams, but I don't know about U.S. vs. Mexico," he says.

Others say the kinship over soccer is simply a reflection of the growing connections that already exist, like in Los Angeles, which is home to the largest Korean and Mexican population in the U.S.

Carlos González Gutiérrez and Youngwan Kim are not only consul generals of Mexico and South Korea based in L.A., but they're good friends, partly through their shared love for soccer. Months ago, the pair made a friendly bet over Thursday's match, which kicks off at 9 p.m. ET. If Mexico loses, González Gutiérrez will gift Kim a bottle of tequila. If the opposite happens, Kim will send over some soju. It's not (entirely) about bragging rights.

" This is a sign of friendship between our two countries," González Gutiérrez told NPR recently, adding that it's a "reflection of what already happens in this city on a daily basis."

Over the past year, in L.A.'s Koreatown, where Latino and Asian Americans make up the majority of the neighborhood, many residents have come together against immigration raids.

Paul "PK" Kim is hoping the World Cup will be a chance to unite over some much needed fun and reprieve. Kim is the marketing director at the Los Angeles Korean Festival Foundation, which is organizing a watch party in the heart of Koreatown on Thursday.

"There's always some awkward tension because everybody's competitive," he says. " The more important thing is being together."

Josh Lee and members of the Los Angeles Football Club's Tigers Supporters Group watch the World Cup match between South Korea and the Czech Republic on June 11.

(

<i>Karla Gachet for NPR</i>

)

"En las buenas y en las malas"

Best friends Lee and Delgado met at a watch party for a Los Angeles Football Club game in 2018. Now, the two help lead one of the MLS club's supporters groups, Tigers.

Lee says the group often sings a song that goes, "En las buenas y en las malas." That's how he's approaching Thursday's match — although he says he would like to see South Korea beat Mexico once on the global stage.

"In the good and the bad, we're celebrating together," he says.

Bonyub Koo and Mirella Vargas, a Korean American and Mexican American married couple in L.A., will be rooting for opposing teams come Thursday. But in a way, that makes it more fun.

" Once we found out that they were going to play against each other, we were super happy," she says, calling it "a friendly competition."

Mirella Vargas and her husband, Bonyub Koo, watch a soccer match with their dog in Los Angeles on June 11.

(

<i>Karla Gachet for NPR</i>

)

When the two started dating in 2019, soccer was among the first things they bonded over. Now married, Koo says he's more excited to watch Mexico vs. South Korea than the World Cup final. Given his love for both teams, he can't imagine a scenario where he will come away feeling disappointed.

" Whoever wins, that's my team," he says.

What does the past tell us about the possible outcome on Thursday? Well, the two squads faced off most recently last year at an international friendly in Nashville, Tenn. The final score? 2-2.

Emanuel Hahn, a Korean American photographer based in New York, says he wouldn't be mad if history repeats itself. Hahn, Lee and An are the creators behind the docuseries Korea, Away about the Korean diaspora and their fandom for South Korea's soccer team.

"If we drew with Mexico, I think it would be the ultimate sort of handshake moment," he says. "It's crazy because I don't know if I would say that about any other country."

Copyright 2026 NPR

Our first taste of summer arrives as it officially begins this weekend. Some parts of SoCal could see triple-digit temperatures, according to the National Weather Service.

The agency said temperatures could reach 103 degrees in Woodland Hills and 97 degrees in Van Nuys. Temperatures in the high 80s are forecasted for Long Beach and Los Angeles.

The heat moves in on Monday and could last through the week. Forecasters said the heat will peak mid-week, with Thursday set to be the hottest day. Widespread heat advisories are also possible.

Temperature “warm-ups” are typical heading into July, according to Ryan Kittell, a senior meteorologist at the National Weather Service.

Mike Wofford, a lead forecaster at the agency, added that they’re also seeing warmer ocean temperatures as part of the El Niño weather pattern. He said El Niño’s effects will kick in fully later in the summer.

The beaches are still dealing with dangerous conditions. Heavy surf, high tides and rip currents are expected to last at least until Thursday. Wofford said these particular conditions may ease, but the agency is anticipating a “long-period swell” later this week.

As for the many World Cup events taking place across Los Angeles, Wofford said the agency has briefed city and county officials on the heat conditions for next week. He said heat effects at gatherings might be “significant” because of the high volume of people, some of whom may not be used to SoCal weather.

Anyone planning to spend the day outside should drink plenty of water, even if they’re not thirsty. Try to wear loose clothing and hats, and stay in air conditioning or shade as much as you can. If you begin to feel dizzy, look for medical assistance, move to a cooler area, and drink water. Extreme heat is dangerous — here’s what else you should know about the signs.

The Los Angeles Sheriff Civilian Oversight Commission on Monday sued the Sheriff’s Department for allegedly failing to comply with three subpoenas seeking information involving a deputy shooting and two deputy beatings.

The legal action seeks to force the department to comply with the subpoenas.

The panel first issued the subpoenas in February 2025. Sheriff Robert Luna responded with extensively redacted documents, arguing much of the information was confidential.

But a new state law that took effect this year grants civilian law enforcement oversight boards access to previously restricted confidential peace officer records during misconduct investigations.

The chair of the commission said access to such records is essential to civilian oversight.

“Independent review must occur,” said Hans Johnson. “Internal review is not sufficient. Internal review does not build public confidence.”

After the state law was enacted Jan. 1, Luna and the county lawyers who advise him offered a different argument for not fully complying with the subpoenas. They said the sheriff must meet and confer with the union that represents rank and file deputies before releasing confidential information.

Robert Bonner, a former chair of the civilian panel who is now representing the commission on a pro bono basis, called the argument “ridiculous.”

“This is state law that says we can do this,” he said. “There’s no legal requirement to meet and confer with the unions so they can modify or delay in any way the enforcement of these subpoenas.”

A statement from the Sheriff’s Department said the agency “embraces oversight, transparency and accountability; however, we must follow the law.”

The department also said recent court cases have warned against bypassing the meet and confer process, and that the county was "obligated to work with labor on the impact the implementation of laws has on our employees.”

“As a result, the better course is to complete the meet and confer process and ensure that all concerns are addressed and that the voices of our employees are heard in this important process,” the department added.

The subpoenas involve three incidents.

One of them seeks all investigative materials relating to Andres Guardado, an 18-year-old who was fatally shot in the back after a brief foot chase in West Rancho Dominguez in 2020. The two deputies involved in the shooting were later sentenced to federal prison for an unrelated incident. The two admitted to kidnapping and abusing a skateboarder.

The information provided to the civilian commission on this incident was heavily redacted, according to the lawsuit.

“Particularly troubling is the complete redaction of a 60-page ‘Supplemental Report’ from the Homicide Bureau investigation as it appears to relate to the investigation of allegations that the deputy sheriff who shot and killed Andres Guardado may have aspired to become a member of a Deputy Gang called the Executioners,” the lawsuit states.

A second subpoena requests information related to Emmet Brock, a 23-year-old transgender man who was violently taken down by a deputy outside a 7-Eleven in 2023 after Brock had given the deputy the middle finger. The deputy later pleaded guilty to a federal civil rights violation.

At least eight other deputies were relieved of duty for allegedly helping the deputy cover up his misconduct.

The third subpoena involves the case of Joseph Perez, who was beaten by deputies from the Industry Sheriff’s Station in East Valinda in 2020. The department deemed the actions by deputies were within policy. Perez has filed a civil rights lawsuit.

Bonner warned that if the Sheriff’s Department is successful in blocking access to confidential records in these and other cases, oversight of the agency will be very difficult.

“It will never be an effective oversight commission,” Bonner said. “It will just be window dressing.”

He added that county lawyers clearly have a conflict of interest in the matter, representing both the sheriff and the oversight panel.

County counsel did not respond to a request for comment.