Organized chaos in Mexico City

Last year I spent American Thanksgiving lounging where the Pacific Ocean meets the Gulf of California enjoying blue skies, divine guacamole and delicious margaritas. It was certainly an interesting aspect to a country I had never been to before, and a great introduction to the wonderful hospitality and generosity of the Mexican people. This year I wanted the intensity of the country with all its anecdotes and preconceptions, and so Mexico City it was. A direct five and a half hour flight from Vancouver it is the same travel time as going to Montreal! Yes Canada is indeed a vast country. It was such a wonderful escape from the deluge of water gracing Vancouver's terrain this autumn and winter, and a welcome celebration of the end of the first term of teaching at UBC. 

A description on the Guardian recently described the tools needed to drive in Mexico City: "it takes bravery, or at least fatalism, to drive in Mexico City", but arriving at 1am presented only deserted roads. We were staying in a wonderful B&B in the Condessa area which is Southwest of the old city centre. The site was an old building on a street that reminded me so much of my time in Barcelona. Indeed as our days progressed I felt such a connection to many other European cities I have visited; this feeling stemmed from the architecture of the city but also exuded from the people and seemed to hang in the air.

Our mornings started with wonderful breakfasts of corn tortilla and chili omelets, and Spanish conversations with the other guests (well I hobbled tongue-tied in my rusty basic Spanish while Pete conversed with grace and passion).

To my absolute delight our first day there was the day of the ‘Bazar del Sabado’ or the Saturday market. It was in the neighbourhood of Angel which is further Southwest and so we embarked on the adventure of Mexico City’s public transportation system. For those of you among my readers who know anything about big cities and transportation you may have learned that Mexico and Columbia have developed an innovative system to dealing with a densely populated city. The origins of the system are in Bogota and so in March of this year I had the opportunity to experience the original. The design is such that the bus lane runs in the centre of the road, and the bus stops for the passengers are raised platforms also located in the centre of the road. It is incredible how efficient the system is and how much it reduces traffic congestion in a city with a population of 30 million people.

There is no better way to discover a city’s heartbeat than through its transportation system; whether it be in the bowels of the earth in London, Paris, Kolkota, Beijing or New York or gliding across the skyline in Seattle or Vancouver or indeed the streetcars of old in Melbourne and Portland. Crammed in the tight spaces or observing the strict personal space restrictions of others, one cannot help but feel like they are flowing through the veins of the city with all its inhabitants in tow. Indeed Pete was engaged in conversation by an older gentleman enthusiastic to speak English reflecting Pete’s desire to showcase his lyrical Spanish.

The market was wonderful an array of wares including clothes, jewellry and ornaments, but Saturday is also the day when artists come and hang their labour on the rails of the local parks in hope of a sale. This is the city of Freida Kahlo and Deigo Rivera after all. There is a rich abundance of street food, music and theatre groups, all of which we of course partake in. Several hours later very full and armed with some Mexican memorabilia we retraced our route back to Condessa. That evening I was to try Mezcal for the first time and I am converted! Advertised as the poor sister to tequila it is harder to find outside of Mexico but here it is available in abundance. Indeed the waiter at the bar presented us with a menu equal to any whiskey bar I had sojourned. A plate of dried crickets accompanies a proper Mexican Mezcal and yes we did indeed try them out, when in Rome as they say.

Statues of the dead on the edge of the market

The next day was dedicated to exploring the historic centre of the city. This time we tried the metro and I learned more about the daily pulses of the people with the observation of sales people and performers all bringing the carriages to life with their cries and exhibitions. As I sat observing this extravaganza aboard the train I felt my senses come to life and literally prickle to the pulse that was going on around me. My Canadian ‘correctness’ faded a thousand miles away as I took in the sounds and the different vibrations bouncing off the walls of the carriages. The historic centre was spectacular in its grandeur in much the same way that Paris’s Champs Elysee or Barcelona’s Las Ramblas are; this is where the tourists come and see the ostentatious buildings symbols of power – every city has it. We wandered off the main plaza after a few obligatory photographs and managed to find a wonderful café amid all the high-street shops and sea of people getting ready for Christmas. The coffee was good but the waiter was its selling point sharing his wealth of information on Mexican food and culture, enough to fill weeks of a holiday.

Cool coffee machine

We set off to walk down the el Paseo del Revolution to the museum of Anthropology. One of the main avenues through the city, the road was awash with wonderful green trees and seats to rest, a space so in tune with its people, an outdoor culture where relationships and conversations breakout of the cement confines to embrace the world. As many of you will know I am not a huge fan of museums but there are always exceptions in every city especially those recommended by people. The added bonus on this day was that Sundays are free for all Mexicans and so the Museum of Anthropology was a buzz of activity, of food, street performers and music, and with families making a day out of their trip. The museum was an amazing building and a wonderfully crafted group of exhibitions of indigenous and more recent Mexican culture. That evening my anthropological education in the ways of Mexico city continued when we dined at a fish restaurant in Condessa where ethnic divisions between clientele, waiters and street hawkers was painfully clear, a city of so much life but also so many contrasts.

Street food off the Paseo del Revolution 

Cool art on the avenue

Wonderful water feature in the museum

On our way to Tepeapulco the following morning we stopped at the shrine to the Lady of Guadalupe where I was enthralled by the volume of people hanging on to very word that the priest offered. Tepeapulco pyramids dwarf the splendor of the pyramids in Giza in their beauty, meticulous craftsmanship and age. Built by the Aztec people of old to demonstrate their might and praise their gods. The sun beat down as we climbed up and down the pyramids of the moon and the sun taking in the wonderfully green surroundings and the history of the location. It was also interesting to be on a bilingual tour as the Spanish speakers were all South Americans from Columbia and Puerto Rico. Once again I was reminded of the vastness of a continent I had only visited for the first time this year. An array of cultures as old and as rich as those I knew so well in the Middle East and Europe. On our return to the city we encountered a huge rally demanding more information on the disappearance of the 43 student teachers, an event which continues to rock the different structures of the country. A conversation I was to have with Veronica a few days later stemmed from this moment where I reflected on the wonder of being in a place where taking to the streets is still a means of expression. I have been taking part in street marches since I was 6 months old and feel disconnected from that culture of late a combination of not being in tune with the vibrations of my location and also not having the time to do so.

Masses of people listening to the priest in the shrine to the Lady of Guadeloupe

Pyramid of the sun

On top of the pyramid of the sun

Pete returned to Vancouver the following morning and I set off to the suburbs to reconnect with a friend and PhD mentor. I can never put into words that feeling when you reconnect with someone after a period of time and the conversation just doesn’t ever seem to reach a conclusion. I am sure you have all experienced this and I am lucky to a number of people all across the world with whom the hours turn into days and there is never a moment of silence. There was also the wonderful time spent with Veronica’s two adorable sons, Emiliano and Fabio, of whom I had met only one before. Emiliano was born in Ireland and this fact established a bond between this intelligent little 4 years old (almost 5) and I. It was my task to read 4 books that night before he would go to sleep, something I did with great pleasure. During my second day Veronica and I went to the Coyoaaán area of the city where the elite used to have their summer homes before the city grew engulfing them in its expansive path. Here we had coffee and discussed my paper that has been accepted for publication but needs some revisions and I knew Veronica was going to be a great help reminding me of hours in her office in Dublin or in H003 with Michael. We then went for lunch in the café where Veronica wrote her Masters thesis and had the most amazing Mexican food ever! It was pumpkin flour with goat’s cheese and vegetables in the middle and was heavenly. After lunch we explored the state markets where Veronica is currently doing her research on their corporatization. Then we headed back to collect the boys and so I could pack up my things. An amazing couple of days filled with children’s laughter, great conversation and wonderful reconnecting.

I will return to Mexico again someday I am sure of that, as it is the kind of place that gets under your skin and makes you feel alive. The traffic is crazy, the politics questionable but there is a warmth in the people that I observed in Baja and it oozed from every pour here in the capital city.