About Mexico DF

This is a very big, flat place. Most buildings are just a few stories tall. The whole place used the be a lake (Xochimilco is what remains), and just last week they had a 6.8 earthquake that didn't make the news in the US; but not much damage.  The city is really about 16 towns that have grown and merged together, and is now about 20 million strong.Every day it is in the low 70s and sunny; at night in the 50s.

Mexico City is more people-dense than any place in China, at least around Christmas time. It is exhausting, being surrounded and jostled every minute of the day, and being tummy to tummy with strange men on the subway, though there is nothing purposely inappropriate going on. There are lots of Mexican tourists, mostly blue collar and often with children; but few norteamericanos, Japanese, Germans, Australians. 

I negotiated the subway with zero mistakes, I am getting competent at this! And hopped a barraca, the casual buses. And found the house, though it is very out of the way.And didn't get ripped off or anything. Blooming with confidence!

The neighborhood where I am is more prosperous, but it is nothing like as dramatic and super-futuristic as coming into Shanghai. The people so far seem friendly but reserved; they use the usted form here. Tomorrow I will take the red tourist bus on its circuit and have a real lunch. (Tonight a China-style dinner, a bottle of juice and a few almonds-- not really hungry).

December 19

Monte Nacional

Today I went back to the Zocalo with the idea of visiting the artesan market (very expensive) the national Pawn Shop (Monte Nacional) a huge elegant building right on the Zocalo, with a room of attentive people gazing at a screen with numbers (an auction?) and on the other side, what looked like a huge bank with about 30  windows, and lines of people snaking towards the windows waiting to pawn or redeem their stuff filling a vast stone room. On the side opposite the agents’ windows, there was a very elaborate nativity scene with running water in the river. The effect was of a huge, ancient bank combined with an airport waiting room. The salas where you could buy jewelry, antiques, and artwork did not open until 10, and I was too early. 

      Streets leading off were full of jewelers who exhibited cheap chains and charms and who bought gold--their main business, it seems. 

one of a series of skylights at the Monte Nacional

By this time I was hungry and stopped at a place with a line out the door. I made a reservation, went to the nearby street market, and bought an embroidered blouse for half the price in the artisan's market, and came back just in time. So I sat down and the waitress suggested cafe con leche which sounds ordinary enough, but at that moment it sounded so wonderful . . . I also ordered chilaquiles with an egg, which turned out to be a wonderful mess. I told the waiter, Yo puedo compartir, si quiere, and in a minute an older gentleman joined me: a habitue who had flirtatious nicknames for all the waitresses. We talked (Besides the perfect weather, being able to communicate relatively easily is making this trip so easy-- I am having a great time!) mostly me talking, and when it was time for me to leave to catch the bus, he offered to pay! After some refusal, it seemed he was serious, so there you are. 

guitar-maker's shop at Mercado de Artisanales

   I hopped on a bus; like Beijing, there seems to be miles of glittering downtown; however it doesn't have the intensity of construction and destruction Beijing has.  After a time, I got off near a market I wanted to check out and found a huge Mercado de Artisanales; mostly garish junk. I did buy painted paper bookmarks, paper made of bark? And a small picture for Susan; a large piece of heavy blank paper to make another journal (for the cover); and a bit of embroidery, of a different kind, and some tejas (tiles) in the Puebla style. So now I think I have done the shopping. I saw the first Mexican cats of the trip: One tiny shop that was crammed crammed crammed had space for seven large fluffy cats who were . . . very relaxed. Leaving, I walked through a park. I saw an empty backpack in the bushes, a warning to be alert... There is a tree here that is a kissing cousin to the one in front of Max' place in Shanghai. Many of these neighborhoods have that French Concession feel, of grunge and splendor, with many repurposed old buildings. As in Shanghai and practically everywhere in Europe, the trees are frequent but small. I saw at least three tiger swallowtails, and a black bird that was larger, slimmer, and had a longer tail than our starlings. Not too many wandering animals. Beautiful blue sky today, and the city mostly sweet-smelling. 

As in China, snack stands have large griddles powered by propane or rarely, charcoal. All sorts of tacos, tortas, other snacks are available. If you get a plastic bag of chips, they pour in a hefty squirt of hot sauce. You can get crunchy lime-chili crickets, or fried lentils; juices squeezed and strained on the spot.

Market stalls constructed of pipe frames covered with blue tarps or sometimes just tarps on the ground pop up in every available, and not available (sidewalk) space. They sell mostly junk, but clothes, makeup, a startling number of booths dedicated to dog costumes, and junky jewelery from China.