Los LoPotro en Mexico

El Festival de las Mulitas

2008-06-20T06:43:00.000-07:00

May 22 is the Festival de las Mulitas, a celebration that's been held in Mexico City since the 1500's. During the days leading up to the festival, people sell little straw mules around the metro stops, so I picked up a couple for our niece Libby and friend Tamie, who were due to arrive on May 22. When they arrived we had a quick lunch of margaritas, salad, quesadillas and aguas (water flavored with fruit) from Antojos Dany down the street and headed for the Zocalo. What better place to begin to know the city? Walking down calle Cinco de Mayo, we struck up a conversation with this fellow. Libby and Tamie were surprised at the friendliness of the city, in contrast to the warnings about crime you always hear. We lived in the centro, I took the metro to work every day and we used public transportation and taxis regularly; we had no negative experiences, happily.

On the Festival de la Mulitas, people dress their small children in regional costumes (and they don't mind your taking their photograph!), bring them to the cathedral and walk around the Zocalo. Corpus Christi is also celebrated on May 22, so we saw the procession of the Cardinal from the cathedral to a platform erected for mass to be celebrated in the Zocalo.

On Saturday we headed out for a day in the southern part of the city, San Angel and Coyoacan. We had told Libby and Tamie to expect surprises and to be flexible with plans. Good thing, because within five minutes on Avenida Juarez we came upon a beautiful parade of dancers in regional dress from various parts of Latin America, a celebration of the cultural diversity of the D.F.

We were a bit delayed getting away from the centro, but still found time to get to Frida Kahlo's Casa Azul and to the Dolores Olmedo Museum, which houses a great collection of works by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo, pre-Colombian art, and Olmedo's collection of travel souvenirs, not your usual trinkets. Besides exquisite taste, she had the money to amass an impressive collection. And, inspired by her mother's altruism, she left her home and collections to the people of Mexico, creating a wonderful oasis of calm and beauty. The buildings are set in a garden full of sculptures by Juan Soriano and others, peacocks, and the Aztec hairless dogs seen so often in Rivera's murals.

Final Feasts

2008-06-16T17:28:00.000-07:00

Dulce and Roberto planned a farewell comida for the conversation group at Chon y Chanos, a retaurante tipico near the school. Melissa, the Fulbright teacher from Minnesota, had a group at noon every day and I followed with a group at 1:00. Often the conversations were so interesting that the groups overlapped, and we spent many enjoyable hours covering a wide variety of topics.

Arturo and Ricardo, from my fall group, also came.
Roberto invited his mother, who gave us framed cross-stitch roses, and Dulce brought her brother Mike, who by now had become a good friend to Bill and me.

Janine came with her British friend Jack, and Ana and Adriana stopped by later.
I will never forget these very dear students who have now become good friends.

Teachers' Day is a rare treat too. Since we had no classes, a group of teachers went to the Fonda del Recuerdo for dinner, where we had delicious food, listened to several different musical groups, and took many photos.

We American teachers are not the only ones leaving ESCA in June: Edith, the English coordinator, has taken on a new job at the Zacatenco campus to plan new English programs in other divisions of the IPN (Instituto Politecnico Nacional). In her honor we had a taquiza at Janik's house, the same place we had the tamaliza in February. You may recall that tamales are served at a tamaliza, so you can guess that tacos are the food at a taquiza. And what great party food! Big cazuelas of tinga, cochinita pibil, papa y pollo, carne de res, alambre, refried beans, stacks of tortillas. Make-your-own, no-fuss entertaining!

Edith received a beautiful floral arrangement, and then some very talented colleagues offered their gifts to her.

Jose Luis, who is also a mariachi, played the requeton, a banjo-sized guitar plucked with a sliver of bull's horn, while Leo danced several traditional dances. And Isabel sang, without accompaniment, some very beautiful songs in Edith's honor. Later, everyone joined in some songs that apparently all Mexicans know. Since this was our last night in Mexico, the depth of friendship at this gathering was especially poignant.

While Americans are more individualistic, Mexicans are a collective people. Of course we all enjoy and value camraderie, fellowship, time spent with friends, but it's different in Mexico. Social aspects of work are quite important. For example, our students had their last test on May 29, but our final day of work was June 6, allowing ample time to spend in social interaction with our colleagues, strengthening deep bonds of friendship and support.

Talavera

2008-06-01T06:06:00.000-07:00

Edith took Melissa, Ceci, and me (the three U.S. teachers) to a talavera shop near our school to select the design for a tile (azulejo) for each of us, her last gift to us. In truth, her enduring gift has been her friendship, kindness, understanding, and support as she guided and included us in all aspects of our work here. She allowed us to ease into our jobs by saying, "Take it easy the first week or so while you adjust to the altitude." Mexico City is more than 7000 feet above sea level, and adjusting to this altitude does indeed take a toll on one's energy. She included us in all social events of our colleagues, a closely knit group of amigos: Amparo's retirement, Lulu's baby shower, Independence Day celebrations, American desserts at our Thanksgiving, a Posada at Christmas, the tamaliza in February, an end- of-year party next Saturday. She took us on a tour of little known and fascinating parts of the city, with her as the guide. She knew how much we wanted to explore other parts of the country and cut us some slack now and again to travel more.

And she took us to this shop for our tiles. Here are the man who helped us design our azulejos and, bent over her work, a woman in the back painting some tiles. Each tile is hand-painted and then fired in a kiln. We assured the man as we left that we would be happy with his work, and he replied as he kissed our hands, "Claro, lo hago con todo amor." (Of course, I do it with much love.)

"Talavera" is a term used loosely for all hand-painted pottery and tiles, but authentic talavera, made only in Puebla, must adhere to strict guidelines of material, design, and process. Only 18 shops in Puebla are authorized to use the official Talavera stamp. The Puebla-Cholula area was already noted for its own fine pottery before the Spanish introduced techniques from Talavera de la Reina in Spain. Now Puebla is THE place to go for serious Talavera shoppers.

Ceci, Nancy, and I enjoyed shopping for Talavera in Puebla two weekends ago. Here are some photos from the Talavera de la Luz shop.

I thought my shopping was over until we went to the Museo Amparo, which has an exceptionally fine pre-Columbian collection, intelligently and beautifully displayed. At the end of our tour I stopped in the Talavera de la Reyna shop on the ground floor and immediately found a design I love, so I bought a small plate. Bill and I went back to Puebla last weekend and got four place settings.

Much of the talavera that people buy is only for decoration, because it contains lead. Authentic Talavera must be lead-free, so we will be able to use this every day, a beautiful reminder of this wonderful year in Mexico.

Here are more photos of tiles used in Puebla to decorate cupolas, walls, churches, kitchens. They add to the visual delight of Puebla. Often tiles and red brick form a pattern.

Most spectacular is this church in Ecatepec, between Puebla and Cholola, whose facade is covered in azulejos made specifically for this purpose.

Puebla

2008-05-22T07:37:00.000-07:00

In colonial times in Mexico, the Spanish built many cities on the site of indigenous towns or religious centers, so the blending of cultures started immediately. In fact, one of the first mestizos born here was the son of Hernan Cortes and La Malinche, his interpreter/lover. Diego Rivera painted this child as a blue-eyed baby carried on his mother's back in a mural on the stairwell of the Palacio Nacional in Mexico City.

The mural also depicts abuses by the conquerers such as forced labor, whippings, rape, killing. One of the twelve missionary friars Spain sent in the earliest days of colonization, Fray Toribio, in an effort to curb abuses, decided to found a new, totally Spanish town away from native populations. This is now the city of Puebla, whose historic center is classic Roman / Spanish urban planning: a large open square, now the park-like Zocalo
with cathedral on one side and municipal building on the other, and streets heading out from the square in an even grid.

This city, on the major route between Veracruz and Mexico City, has always been important in Mexican history. The first battle in the Revolution against Porfirio Diaz (1910) took place in the house of the Serdan family, where six people fought against 500. Notice the bullet holes still in the walls.
My route to school every day takes me along calle Aquiles Serdan; I'm happy to know now who he was. After the battle was clearly lost, he hid under the floor trying to live to fight another day. Unfortunately, a cough gave him away and he was killed, along with his brother and a friend; his wife, mother and sister Carmen were arrested. These were the six who fought against the 500. One room of the Serdan memorial is dedicated to Carmen; inside is a box containing soil collected by women from every state of Mexico to place here in her honor.

Every Mexican city has streets named for its heroes and important historic dates: Hidalgo, Morelos, Madero, Juarez, 5 de mayo, 18 de noviembre, 16 de septiembre. Of these dates, most Americans have heard of Cinco de Mayo. This date commemorates a battle against French invaders that took place in Puebla in 1862. Under the command of General Zaragoza, the Mexicans, mostly indigenous and poorly equiped, defeated the French, who later won the war. In his honor, the city was renamed Puebla Heroica de Zaragoza. This statue of General Zaragoza is near the hill where the Battle of Puebla took place.

I spent a weekend in Puebla with two other Fulbright teachers, Cece and Nancy.

We enjoyed staying in the centro historico, trolley tours of the Cerro de Guadalupe where the Cinco de Mayo battle took place and of nearby Cholula, site of an ancient pyramid larger in volume than Egypt's Cheops, but now looking more like a hill with a church on top.

Entrance to the archaeological site is through the ancient tunnels of the pyramid.

Here, in 1519 Cortes, warned about an Aztec ambush, struck first, killed thousands and vowed to build a church for every day of the year. There are 39 churches in this small town, many built atop former temples. We went to a very interesting one in nearby Tonantzintla, decorated in a style called indigenous baroque, synchretism at its most beautiful. Spanish culture and Catholic religion may have been imposed on the indigenous, but they did not abandon their native beliefs, symbols and motifs.

El Mercado de San Juan

2008-05-19T14:13:00.000-07:00

The first thing I do when I enter the San Juan Market is breathe deeply and absorb all the wonderful aromas. Then I let my eyes join the sensory delight as I walk slowly through the fruit section, where each and every fruit is perfect, without blemish and beautifully displayed. Vendors often offer samples, especially when I ask the name of some exotic species, so before I've taken five steps, the taste buds join in. Today I bought apples and peaches with a heavenly aroma. Of course peaches remind me of my mother, so I'm always glad when they're in season, but these duraznos are smaller, more yellow, and more fragrant than our beloved Georgia peaches.

Next come the vegetables, arranged in pyramid-like tiers with an opening at the top through which sometimes a person, standing on a bench, pops up to help. More often someone is on the floor, trying to direct the customer's attention to his or her stand. Some of the vegetables, especially the baby ones, are already cleaned, shelled, cut or otherwise prepped for cooking. Today I noticed some new-to-me mushrooms (hongos) and stopped for a conversation about how to prepare them: rinse the hongos, saute some onions and garlic, add the hongos and saute a bit, then add chicken broth and last a sprig or two of epazote (an herb). Top with a dried chile de arbol.

So the next stop was to a chicken stand. I avoided the one that displays chickens with neck, head and feet still attached and asked a man plucking off the last of the little feathers from chicken at another stand for enough to make a broth. He placed on the scale what was left after cutting off the thighs, legs and breast - basically the spine with wings attached - and I asked him to add a breast, leg and thigh.

The dried chiles are at the other side of the market; en route I picked up a bag of veggies to add to the broth and then slowed my pace as I passed the fruit stands again. I confess to being utterly ignorant about identifying one chile from another -the variety is extensive - so I just asked the very ancient woman sitting by the stand for a chile de arbol. She seemed to think this was a strange request, so the woman at the next stand came over and suggested for her to give me five pesos worth, about two hand-scoops. From this, I surmise that I should probably add a chile de arbol to top each serving of the soup. These are narrow red chiles, about three inches long. Now I recognize them: they're always atop the Enchiladas Baja (stuffed with seafood and covered with a white sauce) that I like to order in Mazatlan. I made the mistake - once - of putting a whole one in my mouth.

Some careful readers of this blog (perhaps Melanie and Susan) will remember my frustrated search for bread similar to Calandra's. A few months ago the search ended at a stand in the San Juan Market that also has a very good assortment of cheeses and cold cuts from Italy, Spain and France. I always spend a long time at this place and usually end with a sampling of my favorite Mediterranean flavors: Parmigiano Reggiano and salami from Italy, manchego de tres leches (cheese from 3 milks - goat, sheep and cow) and jamon serrano from Spain, and some chevre from France. The vendors always give you a little sample of whatever you order; in fact, if you order several things you can make this a very pleasant snack or lunch, especially since they offer little glassses of wine to cleanse the palatte. Once Bill and I ordered so much here that they even made us a dessert: a piece of bread with a scoop of Marscapone drizzled with honey and topped with a pecan.

Here's a photo of our niece Libby and friend Tamie at the cheese stand.

Today I watched the young man slice my Parmigiano Reggiano and noticed that he gave me a rather large portion of rind. I had to ask him for the word for rind (corteza) before I could complain and ask for a different slice. The two women standing by me enjoying their own samples of cheese gave me an approving look that made me feel as if I had passed some sort of ama de casa (housewife) test. The young man very courteously sliced another portion and then gave all three of us glasses of wine. After a toast to our health "Salud!", I leisurely strolled through the fruit again, breathing deeply, and walked back home.

Mothers' Day and a Short History Lesson

2008-05-11T17:28:00.000-07:00

This year I celebrated Mother's Day twice. Mexican Mother's Day is always on May 10; ours was May 11 this year. Even though Bill and Dan are far away - Maine and Vermont - I enjoyed the weekend.

Today Dulce and her family invited me to spend the day at their sports club, near the Bosque de Chapultepec. And what a club it is! Two Olympic swimming pools, another for platform diving and another for children; courts for tennis, frontennis, squash, badminton, basketball; an indoor track elevated over the basketball courts; rooms for aerobics, dance, Tai Chi, spinning and weights; computer center, library, spa, TV room, restaurant. And should anyone need a break from all these sports, Chapultepec Park is a short walk away. In fact, you can see the Castillo in the distance in this photo of Dulce and her brother Mike.

Frontennis is similar to racquetball, but it's played outside and with three walls instead of four. It was a demonstration sport in the Mexico City Olympic Games of 1968; Dulce's father played in those games and now coaches an amateur team. Last November he was inducted into Mexico's Sports Hall of Fame. We watched some games, had lunch, and then went to the park to visit the Castillo, built in the 18th century when Mexico was still Nueva España.

In the 1840's the Castillo was the Colegio Militar (military school), scene of the final battle in the Mexican-American War (1846-48)in which six young cadets, now known as the Niños Héroes, perished defending the Colegio against the U.S. invasion in a war that lost for Mexico half of its territory (now parts of Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico and Wyoming and all of California, Nevada and Utah). Texas had already become a state in 1845, after having won its independence from Mexico in 1836.

It's a sobering experience to visit this museum (as well as the Museum of Interventions ) and realize that I, as a U.S. citizen, have benefited from the policy of Manifest Destiny while Mexico still suffers from the loss. And I say to myself, "Well, you're looking at this event from a perspective of 160 years later." But then I read this quote from Ulysses S. Grant's memoirs in a brochure I picked up, "I don't believe there has ever been a more iniquitous war than the one the U.S. waged against Mexico. Remembering that invasion, I am ashamed for my country."

The next invaders were the French, who came in response to president Benito Juarez' having suspended payment on foreign debt. The Mexicans won the Battle of Puebla on May 5 (el Cinco de Mayo), but later the French prevailed, and Napoleon III named his cousin Maximilian Emperor of Mexico. Maximilian and his wife Carlota lived in the Castillo until republican forces advanced on the city, and the U.S. and Prussia put pressure on France to withdraw, leaving Maximilian to face his destiny without support. He was captured, judged, and killed by a firing squad. Carlota returned to Europe. Juarez, who led the republican forces, resumed his presidency of Mexico.

Juarez lived in the Palacio Nacional at the Zócalo, but Porfirio Díaz, elected president and then ruling as dictator for the next 30 years, sometimes resided in the Castillo. The Revolution of 1910 resulted in his overthrow, and subsequent presidents lived in the Castillo until 1939, when it was converted into the museum it is today.

Tepoztlán

2008-05-06T15:55:00.000-07:00

Tepoztlán, a small mountain village between Cuernavaca and Mexico City, is a popular weekend retreat for hiking in the surrounding hills or just hanging out in a very pleasant ambiente. Legend says that the god of the wind chose this place as the home of his son Tepozteco. A favorite hike is up to the Pyramid of Tepozteco; another is to the Kissing Rocks; but simply walking around town is very pleasant. A poetic entrepreneur has opened several ice cream shops around town called Tepoznieves, where he sells nieves de dioses (snows, ice creams of the gods). Move over Baskin Robbins, Ben & Jerry's. Here are just some of the flavors:

Arrullo de Luna, Moon's Lullaby
Beso de Angel, Angel's Kiss
Canto de Sirenas, Mermaid's Song
Gardenias
Mil Flores, 1000 Flowers
Primavera, Spring
Oración de Amor, Love's Prayer
Oración de Viento, Wind's Prayer
Reina de la Noche, Queen of the Night
Serenata de Amor, Love's Serenade
Sinfonía de Mar, Symphony of the Sea
Pétalo de Rosas, Rose Petals

Other exotic flavors are also available: sorbets of avocado, celery, beet, lettuce, cactus, carrot, ice creams with rum, tequila, mezcal, various flavors with chile, as well as any fruit imaginable. One flavor is called Poblana; it's coffee, sweet potato and Bailey's Irish Cream. Now that's really fusion food!

You may think we did nothing but eat ice cream. Wrong! Belén, one of our friends and colleagues at ESCA, had invited us to her family home to experience a cooking lesson by Edith, our English department head.

The home first, then the food.

Belen's house, overflowing with artesanía and charm, was built by her grandfather and enlarged by her father. The family uses it as a weekend retreat. It has two bedrooms, a sitting room, a wide portico that opens onto a lovely garden, and - best of all- a típica cocina mexicana, a typical Mexican kitchen. This is Belen with her mother Marlu, who collected all the wonderful artesanía and decorated the home. She also taught me how to season the cazuelas de barro (pottery casseroles) to use them on the stovetop: rub garlic on the outside bottom, place coarse-grain salt in the cazuela, heat it until the salt begins to brincar (jump) and turn golden.

Edith taught us how to make chicken enchiladas in mole sauce: fiesta food! Mole is a sauce made of lots of ingredients - chiles, spices, chocolate, cinnamon, nuts, seeds (pumpkin, chile, sesame) tortillas, raisins, garlic, and more - ground by a stone rolling pin on a metate, a slanted stone surface. On a TV cooking show, La Ruta del Sabor, I saw it lovingly - and laboriously - prepared from scratch, but fortunately it's sold already prepared in the markets. So you take this powdered mole, fry it in some olive oil, add broth, and set it aside. When you're ready to assemble the enchiladas, heat a tortilla in a pan with a bit of mole and coat both sides before stuffing it with shredded chicken and cheese and top it with sour cream and some crumbled queso fresco. Serve with arroz (rice), frijoles (beans) and ensalada (salad). We had two types of mole: poblano (from Puebla) and negro (from Oaxaca). There are many others.

Does this one weekend give you any idea of the depth and breadth of the flavors of Mexico? Someone told me Mexico shares honors with France and China for developing the three best cuisines of the world.

Bill and I stayed at Jorge and Alejandra Ortiz' Casitas Tepoztlán, four lovely adjoining houses that open onto various gardens surrounded by volcanic stone walls topped with bougambilia and other extravagantly beautiful flowers. The Ortiz family also runs the Casa Gonzalez in Mexico City, our first "home" in the D.F. We are very grateful to them for their hospitality and friendship.

A Temblor and San Judas

2008-04-29T17:54:00.000-07:00

Sunday night, April 27, as we sat down to dinner I felt suddenly dizzy, a strange sense of motion. When the feeling came a second time I asked Bill,”Did you feel that?” Yes, he did, and we deduced that it must be an earthquake. The ten o’clock news confirmed that it was a quake registering 5.6 on the Richter scale, with its epicenter in Guerrero state. I like the Spanish word temblor better, since earthquake conjures up horrible images of destruction, and this was only a tremor. I hope it’s our only such experience here. Not knowing what to do in an earthquake I did what any computer-dependent person would do and went to ask.com. Basically the answer is to stay where you are and protect yourself as best you can from things that might fall.

Coming home from school on Monday,I wondered why Hidalgo metro station was swarming with people, and then I remembered that it was the 28th. Hidalgo is the closest stop to San Hipolito church, where on the 28th of every month people bring their San Judas Tadeo images to be blessed. Saint Jude, the patron of desperate situations. Judging by the crowds on the 28th of each month, I'd say he is second in devotees only to la Virgen de Guadalupe. Here are some photos from Oct. 28, St. Jude's day, when even more people seek his intercession.

Not a Bad Place to Feel Bad

2008-04-24T16:51:00.000-07:00

After having an awful cold for over a week that morphed into a bad cough and laryngitis, I finally decided to go to the doctor. The pharmacy chain stores Farmacias Similares have adjoining consultorios where a doctor examines you for 20 pesos (about $2), no appointment necessary, just knock on the door. Their motto: Lo mismo pero más barato = The same, but cheaper. The two prescriptions were filled for 104 pesos; because I spent more than 80 pesos, they offered me an obsequio of my choice: a can of tuna, a bag of sugar or one of beans. In and out in ten minutes and $12 - not a bad deal, and I'm feeling better already.

But I can't say I had such luck with getting new glasses. I popped in for an eye exam and was delighted to find out that my new glasses would be ready that very afternoon. They were ready, but I couldn't even see the big E clearly with them, so they made me another pair. I couldn't read a line of print without moving my head along the line. The doctor assured me this was most unusual, had never happened, he valued me as a patient not as a sale, and would I let them try again? OK, but third strike and you're out! My new glasses are fine, but I don't think they are really Transition lenses. Lo mismo, pero más barato...

An April Weekend: Celebration of Creativity

2008-04-13T16:09:00.000-07:00

On Friday we decided to visit the Museo de la Estampa, just across the Alameda from us on Avenida Hidalgo, to see the Jose Guadalupe Posada engravings of dancing skeletons, La Catrina, and Don Quijote. Closed for montaje - setting up a new exhibit. So we went next door to the Franz Meyer Museum, one of our favorites, and blithely passed by their exquisite permanent exhibit, which we have seen often, to view the current ones: Marimekko, modern Danish jewelry, and Fiskars, all very interesting. We especially felt at home with the Fiskars exhibit, which included willow baskets, pussy willows, and birch bark creations. Almost Maine!

On Saturday we hopped on the Metrobus for San Angel to visit the Museo de Arte Carrillo Gil, which reportedly has a marvelous modern art collection. Closed for montaje! So we walked down Avenida Revolucion to find the Museo Soumaya, located in the Plaza Loreto, an old factory renovated into a mall of specialty stores. Perserverance paid off: the sculpture collection alone is worth the visit; the Soumaya has beautifully displayed a collection of sculptures by Rodin, Dali, Degas and Picasso, among others.

On Sunday we had to alter the beginning of our usual paseo dominical on bikes down Juarez to the Zocalo, because crowds of people heading to hear the "legitimate president" of Mexico, Lopez Obrador (who lost the elction of 2006) filled Madero Street and blocked our passage. It would have been very interesting to hear his speech opposing the current government's policy toward PEMEX, the sole petroleum industry of Mexico. The debate over the future of PEMEX is constant and heated, a topic better reserved for its own entry later. So we headed in the other direction, toward Chapultepec, for our customary "snakes and lakes" tour. This photo is of a section of the base of an enormous structure that was part of a reservoir system in the park, hence the "snakes" part of our loop.

At one end of Chapultepec is a fine children's museum - the Papalote - and the Museum of Technology (MUTEC). We went to MUTEC to see the exhibit of forty machines made from Leonardo da Vinci's drawings.
The exhibit opens with an animated figure of da Vinci speaking about his work, followed by a biographical film and then the forty machines.
A fascinating way to appreciate Leonardo's genius.

On the way back home we passed a display of chile peppers along the Reforma. I especially liked this one of chile poblano done in talavera, the pottery of Puebla.

And this one, in the style of the black pottery of Oaxaca.

And this one, in the style of the national sport, futbol, and apparently much appreciated by this fan.

Crocodile Dunzih

2008-03-27T15:26:00.000-07:00

People are used to having a crocodile swim out of his lagoon on Playa la Ropa in Zihuatanejo, spend the night swimming in the bay, and return in the wee hours of the morning when the beach belongs to him. During Easter vacation the beach is full of people, and the croc stayed out too long. What to do? Call the crocodile catcher, of course! Dressed in a bright yellow boxer's robe, long sports pants and sneakers and carrying a rope, he swam out to find the wayward crocodile, beat the water with the rope, and drove to shore the crocodile, who took one look at the crowd gathered there to watch the excitement and swam back out. Later, the crocodile hunter carried this baby croc (the one who swam out was much bigger) along the beach to show him off to everyone. We never did find out when the animal returned, but I'm sure he did.

No Chocolate Bunnies

2008-03-27T15:16:00.000-07:00

The only thing here that's remotely like an Easter at home is the basket of "eggs" on our coffee table - brightly colored onyx eggs that I bought at the Ciudadela market. Easter here is not chocolate bunnies and egg hunts! Many of the neighborhoods, towns and cities stage passion plays on Good Friday. We went to one in Iztapalapa that has been staged for 165 years. At least 1000 penitentes (many of them young boys) walk, carrying crosses, barefoot on the hot asphalt until the blisters on their feet scream for bandages. These precede Jesus - portrayed this year by a young man serving an 18-year prison sentence - who carries a cross weighing 90 kilos for 4 kilometers, enduring whiplashes and other faithfully represented events from the Biblical story - Veronica wipes his face, he stumbles three times, Simon helps bear the cross - until he finally reaches a hill (after passing Judas hanging on a tree) where he and his cross are hoisted onto a huge cross. By this time he is pretty bloody. After he gasps for breath for many minutes, a Roman soldier actually pierces his chest with a lance, and it's over. The whole thing is just so very exact in details that you cannot skip over the crucifixion and get right to resurrection the way we do. No empty crosses here!

In the Spanish-speaking world, Easter is Semana Santa (Holy Week); since the vast majority of Mexicans are Catholic, many of the ceremonies and events of the week are similar to Catholic observances in other parts of the world, but with an unmistakable Mexican touch. Every Friday of Cuaresma (Lent) we got empanadas de vigilia, delicious pastries stuffed with fish and seafood, from the corner bakery. Dulce told me that on Palm Sunday, Jesus rode into her parish on the donkey which is the IPN (our school's) mascot. On Good Friday, the most solemn of days, we emerged from the metro in Iztapalapa to fight our way through amusement park rides that we found obnoxious but children were enjoying immensely. Next was a street market with stands selling everything imaginable. Later, I heard a rooster crow and thought, "How quaint to hear this in the city." And then I saw the sign advertising the sale of gallos de pelea, fighting cocks. Finally, we reached a church where people were lined up in order to pass by a tableau of Jesus' trial.

In the plaza in front of the church, vendors sold trinkets, crosses, jewelry with angels bearing Jesus' image, and also bread and bunches of chamomile: bread for the people to take home to symbolize that they would have sustenance in the rest of the year and chamomile (a plant with small daisy-like flowers) to represent - because of its resemblance to the sun - the presence of God in their homes. Beside the main entrance to the church, people walked by an altar to La Virgen de los Dolores, the Virgin Mary weeping over the body of her slain Son, and touched the body with their chamomile bunches. I took no photos; somehow it just didn't seem right for me to intrude as a tourist here.

Acolman

2008-02-25T18:33:00.000-08:00

Acolman is the site of the first monastery built in Mexico. Remember that Cortes landed at Veracruz in 1519 and occupied Tenochtitlan by 1521. Franciscan missionary friars began Acolman in 1536, and Augustinians finished it around 1560. The earliest colonial period, the era of collision between two (or one vs. multiple) vastly different world views, is the most fascinating to me, especially the role of the missionary friars, whose profound impact on Mexico extends from colonization into modern times, in ways big and small. In artesanía, for example. Certain pueblos specialize in a particular craft that was first taught to the local people by the friars who served in that area. Fray Juan de Valencia taught people how to mix amaranth and other grains and nuts with honey. The people who first tried it were so delighted that they started dancing for joy, and the concoction is called today alegrías (joy). Vendors sell them all over Mexico.

The friars also sought to impart Catholic doctrine in ways that the people would understand and embrace.
They introduced the piñata, shaped like a seven-pointed star (each point representing one of the seven cardinal sins), filled with treats. They taught the natives that the stick they used to break the piñata was like the power of God to overcome sin and the goodies that fell out were the rewards of resisting sin. The piñata has certainly endured, and Mexicans know the symbolism even if that was lost as the piñata crossed the border. This sculpture of a blindfolded friar striking a piñata is in Acolman, near the monastery.

My interest in this topic was piqued on our first trip to Mexico in 1972 when I saw a cross in front of the church in Tepotzotlan. A coiled rattlesnake was carved at its base. The rattlesnake is a sacred symbol associated with Quetzalcoatl, the god legend said would return some day; Moctezuma famously thought Cortes might be that god, a belief with disastous consequences for his people.

That cross was the first of many examples of syncretism, the melding of religious beliefs. As native artisans built the churches and carved the symbols of Christianity, they included their own sacred symbols. Was this encouraged by the friars? These mixed symbols are so ubiquitous that I think the answer is yes. And Mexican Catholicism is rich with customs that point to a pre-Christian origin.

But back to Acolman. I found it impressive in its simplicity; I could easily imagine the work of the friars in this place as they taught not only their religion but also their language (remnants of writing, with beautifully ornate lettering, can be seen in borders along the tops of walls) and skills of artisanship to give the native population at least some means of livelihood in their changed world. We could not enter the church because a funeral mass was being celebrated, but the music of the mass resonating through the thick monastery walls made our visit even more enjoyable.

Months later, I visited the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso in Mexico City. This mural by Orozco in a stairwell of the school shows a friar embracing an emaciated indigenous, a moving image of the conquest.

Mariposas Monarcas

2008-02-24T19:53:00.000-08:00

The fluttering of one butterfly’s wings - so gentle, so soft – is, of course, inaudible. If you’re very quiet, however, and in the presence of millions of monarchs high in the hills of the Rosario Sanctuary, you can hear a sound like a slight breeze stirring leaves, and you know you have heard butterflies. Bill and I were there in January, when the monarchs were hibernating, hanging in great clusters in the tall Oyamel firs. This weekend I went back with Edith, Ceci, Cati and Amparo.
In February we can see the mariposas leaving their clusters to fly around and mate before their long journey north begins in March. They perch on some smaller trees like so many orange Christmas ornaments, or catch a current and fly up, contrasting with the bright blue sky, or land in a wet spot to drink, or alight on yellow, red, and lavender flowers in their forest. It is indeed their forest; they move through their domain as schools of fish do through the sea, and we humans observe in awe, knowing that we are witnessing an ancient, mysterious, and endangered phenomenon.

Local people have known about this marvel of nature for thousands of years, and the Monarch has been an important symbol in their mythology and rituals. In the 1970's National Geographic published an article about the "discovery" of the over-wintering grounds of the Monarch, and the rest of North America got in on the secret.

Across all of North America, not just in Mexico, population growth,
deforestation, and wide-spread use of herbicides threaten the Monarch. You can find further details about their migration on the Feb. 4 entry.

Beaches, Crocodiles, and Monarchs

2008-02-04T13:27:00.000-08:00

During December and January we traveled a lot, sometimes by bus and sometimes by car. Bus travel in Mexico is quite comfortable, reasonable, and convenient. Buses go everywhere, even to remote places, and major destinations are serviced by multiple schedules. We took an overnight bus to Puerto Vallarta; it was a full size bus with only 24 fully-reclinable seats with foot rests. Sleeping on the bus gave us an extra day at the beach, not a bad trade-off. Our son Dan met us there and we had a very relaxing week on the beach. After the over-stimulation of Mexico City, I did nothing but relax on the beach; Bill and Dan went scuba diving and saw humpback whales en route.

In January we spent a week full of good memories in Mazatlan (beach scene 1) and traveled north to check out San Carlos (beach scene 2). And finally we made it to Zihuatanejo, so far my favorite Mexican beach, beautiful and still wild enough to have a crocodile cross over from his lagoon to the bay each night. (last 3 beach scenes)

We did the Mazatlan - San Carlos trip in Rocinante, so we were able to take the Mil Cumbres (1000 peaks) scenic route along the old road between Morelia - Toluca - Mexico City.
Old Roci was in her glory, since we had to use four wheel drive to maneuver the last few miles into the El Rosario Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary. Tens of millions of Monarchs migrate from Canada and the U.S. in November to hibernate in this particular corner of Mexico until the warmer sun of February stirs them to flutter around and mate. In March they head back north and lay their eggs on milkweed plants in the southwest before dying. These eggs hatch and go through their metamorphosis, and the fragile, beautiful butterflies fly further north, mate, lay eggs and die - all within 6-8 weeks. Two more generations complete their cycle and continue even further north into our part of the world, and Monarchs of the fourth generation, those who have made it to the far north (who live 6-8 months) find their way back to Mexico, where the multi-generational, amazing saga continues. You can find more information at this site: http://www.units.muohio.edu/dragonfly/cycle/butterflylinks.htmlx

The Megamarcha; "Sin maíz no hay país."

2008-02-02T08:24:00.000-08:00

Early this week some campesinos (farmers) brought cows and bales of hay to the Monumento a la Revolución and gave away free milk to protest low milk prices. Later in the week tractors gathered near Chapultepec and we started hearing about a megamarch of campesinos scheduled for Thursday to end, as all manifestaciones do, in the Zócalo.

This march was truly mega. It began at the Angel de Independencia, came up the Reforma, then down Juárez (where we watched it for about an hour and a half) and ended in the Zócalo. Tractors, loaded with campesinos and covered with posters, led the way, followed by thousands and thosands of people, organized by state, marching, carrying banners and chanting: "sin maíz no hay país" (without corn there is no country) and "el pueblo, unido, jamás será vencido" (the people, united, will never be defeated). People along the sidewalks shouted back, "No están solos." (You are not alone). Everyone recognizes the vital importance of agriculture to Mexico, the land that domesticated corn eons ago, a feat of astounding ingenuity.

Now Mexico imports corn from the United States, and campesinos fear that the Free Trade Agreement (el Tratado de Libre Comercio - TLC) will have disastrous effects. A particularly chilling poster that we saw often was of a vertical ear of corn in the shape of a nuclear bomb bearing the letters E.U. (Estados Unidos, USA) and aiming directly for Mexico. The campesinos are strongly against genetically modified products and they feel threatened by subsidized U.S. agriculture. Specifically, they want the government of President Felipe Calderon to renegotiate a section of NAFTA that opened the door to the importation of corn, beans, sugar and powdered milk. Someone handed us a flyer stating that with the massive introduction of U.S. products, Mexican agriculture will literally be broken, leaving millions of campesinos without work and increasing migration from the country to the city and abroad. The U. S. ambassador issued a statement that Mexican exports have quintupled since NAFTA.

Driving across Mexico, we've seen small farms like this one in Ancangueo and huge, modern agrobusiness. The climate allows for year-round farming. We bought strawberries at roadside stands near Guanajuato the first of November and yesterday Feb. 1, saw them again. The various climactic zones allow for the production of a huge variety of vegetables and fruits, some I've never seen before.

The Mexican people, accustomed to disagreeing with their own government, do not show anti-Americanism to individual Americans, even as they protest against policies that involve the U.S. Although police lined the sidewalks by the Sheraton, near our apartment, we did not feel threatened.

If you're interested in this topic, you can find an interesting read at http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/11/opinion/11mon4.html?_r=1&th&emc=th&oref=slogin

The Holidays

2008-01-30T14:54:00.000-08:00

A tamaliza is planned for Friday morning, Feb. 1. This is a gathering of friends to eat tamales and drink atole ( a drink based on dried corn which is boiled, left to soak overnight, drained, and flavored with an endless variety of flavors - chocolate, fruits, orange flowers, apparently anything that appeals to the cook.) The tamaliza illustrates how Mexican traditions connect one holiday to another and weave a strong warp that bonds family and friends. It takes place the beginning of February on or near Candelaria, the last official holiday of the (yes) Christmas season. On January 6, the Dia de Reyes (Three Kings Day) everyone eats a Rosca de Reyes, a ring-shaped sweet bread with dried fruits and a ceramic figurine. The person who gets the slice with the figurine hosts the next big party on Candelaria, the festival that commemorates the presentation of the Baby Jesus at the temple.

The Christmas season begins on Dec. 11, the Eve of the Dia de la Virgen de Guadalupe, patron of Mexico, revered all over Latin America. She is the protectress, the mother of Mexico. The depth of devotion to her is moving. This year an estimated three million Mexicans made a pilgrimage to her shrine, built on Tepeyac, the hill where she first appeared to a young Indian boy who managed to persuade the bishop, with the help of some miracles, to build the shrine. The Basilica de Guadalupe is in La Villa, an area of the city we are not comfortable navigating; unlike thousands who arrived on foot or knees or bicycle, we took a taxi. Alejandro, the taxista, advised us to get a statue or picture of la Virgen and place our photos next to her heart so she would protect us the way she has always protected him.

Many pilgrims were spending the night there, with blankets and sleeping bags, an occasional tent to keep them warm. Priests blessed with holy water the statues and portraits of the Virgen that many people carried. Many parents, seeking her protection, formally presented their babies to her. The beautiful old basilica at the base of the hill is being restored, and a new, modern basilica has been built next to it. Here, masses were offered almost continuously. At midnight they sing the Mañanitas to her – the Mexican birthday song (Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el rey David. Hoy por ser dia de tu santo, te las cantamos a ti. These are the morning songs that King David sang; because it’s your day we sing them to you).

The Posadas are the next stage of the holiday season. Beginning on Dec. 16 and continuing for nine days, groups of people will commemorate the journey of Mary and Joseph to Bethlehem by carrying their images and singing their story, seeking lodging. They arrive at a house finally that receives them, and the mood changes from religious to festive, from Bethlehem to Mexico: mariachis, festive food, pinatas.

Now the Reforma is lined with nacimientos, nativity scenes, with the customary figures of Mary, Joseph, the Babe, kings, shepherds, angels and animals and sometimes an additional figure - a bright red Diablito, the devil, lurking along the edge.

Christmas Eve is more important than Christmas Day; families gather for a huge meal, many go to midnight mass, the party continues into the wee hours of Christmas Day, which is of necessity more subdued as people finally get some rest. And of course New Year's Eve is more festive than New Year's Day. The Reforma was decorated with big arches bearing bunches of gold grapes. At midnight as the clock strikes, everyone eats a grape per strike, bringing good luck to the new year. A big, free concert was held there on the 31st.

The focus shifts from the Reforma to the Monumento a la Revolucion a few days later, where a children's fair is set up along with multiple booths for families to take pictures with the Reyes, the Wise Men, who apparently journeyed to Bethlehem with Winnie the Pooh and other popular children's characters. Three Kings, but only one camel; one king rides an elephant and another, a horse. The big Reyes parade takes place on the Reforma on Jan. 6. We know, because that parade blocked the Reforma for several hours as we were leaving for Mazatlán. So we learned a new way out of the city, never an easy task here.

The bakeries are so completely filled with Roscas de Reyes that I'm certain every person in the city (pop. more than 25 million) had at least one. That's good, because it ensures that the festivities will continue at least through the first week of February. And then usually there's a respite until Carnaval starts up for five or six days before Ash Wednesday, but Easter is early this year, so people on the coasts, especially Mazatlan on the Pacific and Veracruz on the Gulf, are celebrating Carnaval right after Candelaria. The D.F. is surprisingly low-key for Carnaval, but in case we get bored, Chinese New Year's celebrations, with dragon dance, will take place from Feb. 7 - 12.

La Flor de Nochebuena

2007-12-08T15:50:00.000-08:00

The cuetlaxochitl, a plant whose leaves turn bright red, is native to Mexico. Moctezuma cultivated it, and for the Aztecs it symbolized the "new life" of those who died in battle or were sacrificed. Its leaves turn a beautiful bright red in December and so the missionary friars used it to decorate their Nativity scenes, and it came to be called the Flor de Nochebuena (Christmas Eve Flower). Its botanical name is euphorbia pulcherrima (you Latin scholars know this means "most beautiful"). The first U.S. ambassador to Mexico (1825 - 1829), Dr Joel Poinset, imported it to the U.S. and it came to be known as the poinsettia.

In the weeks before Christmas these beautiful plants embellish the city. They ring the Alameda and form a carpet along the museum area of the Reforma. Here's a poinsettia "tree" at the Monumento a la Revolucion.

Over 8.5 million poinsettias are sold in Mexico in the weeks before Christmas; I assume that number doesn't include plants exported. The chinampas of Xochimilco are especially suitable areas for the cultivation of Nochebuenas; we bought ours at a display along the Reforma. Instead of a Christmas tree, we have a dozen poinsettias, a piñata, and a couple of nacimientos (Nativity scenes); it seems more appropriate somehow this year.

Ice Skating in the Zócalo!

2007-12-02T13:27:00.000-08:00

No, I haven't missed cold weather enough to imagine an ice rink in the heart of Mexico City! Instead, the government of the Distrito Federal has constructed a 3200 square meter open-air rink in the Zócalo, another one in the Alameda Sur and a third in the Bosque de San Juan de Aragón as part of the Invierno en la Capital 2007 (Winter in the Capital) events. Skates and skating are free of charge to 1000 skaters at a time who skate for 45 minutes; 500 spectators can watch from risers. How are they going to keep all this ice from melting? And did they import Zambonis? The temperature was 55 when we left for our bike ride this morning; it's maybe 85 right now - hot enough to wilt the poinsettias in our windows.

To get into the rink, people get color-coded bracelets at a taquilla (ticket booth)that faces a sculpture depicting the Aztecs founding their capital Tenochtitlan on this site.
They had been a nomadic tribe, probably originating north of the Rio Grande, and their founding legend says they should keep wandering until they saw an eagle perched on a cactus, devouring a snake. Sign spotted, they settled on a island in Lake Texcoco (long since dried up) and built a temple on that very site in 1325.

In the 1500's, the Spanish used stones from the temple to build their cathedral and pave the plaza in front of it, now known as the Zócalo.

It's a huge space, measuring 200 meters on each side. Open, but never empty, it's the scene of ever-changing, kaleidoscopic images of Mexico City.

Here's a list of some of the things we've observed in the Zócalo over the last three months: markets, vendors, shamans, Aztec dancers,
Independence Day fireworks, huge crowds of people, a coffee fair, a book fair, an enormous ofrenda for Día de Muertos, gigantic seasonal decorations on the surrounding buildings, protests, police in riot gear, parachuters landing, the finish line of the Mexico City Marathon, and now an ice rink! Bill just got back from his second attempt at skating today; he couldn't get near the rink and reports crowds as big as for Independence Day festivities.

Noise

2007-11-30T06:19:00.000-08:00

In face-to-face relationships, Mexicans are among the most considerate, courteous people in the world, with a finely tuned deference to the other person in their immediate presence. People trying to sleep, however, are out of sight, out of mind. There's no point in trying to go to bed before 11, because the tamales vendors will soon make their rounds on bicycles outfitted with stands carrying big pots of steaming tamales. By this time of night they must be tired of chanting their sales pitch, because they have a recording blaring in the sing-song cadence of hawkers, "Tamales oaxaqueños, tamales calientitos..." And it goes on and on. I joked with some students that I didn't think I would be able to get to sleep without this chant when we return to the US. They said, "Don't worry. We can download it as a ring tone for you."

Organ grinders perform on busy streets; it's picturesque for people passing by and we even sometimes put coins in the hat of our favorite one, a man with a very pleasant smile. But last weekend, an organ grinder stationed himself on our corner to take advantage of a crowd lined up for a performance at the Metropolitan. He might as well have been right inside my ear! We wondered how much we would have to tip him to get him to stop, but instead just left the apartment for awhile.

We often stop for lunch in Chapultepec, in an area full of food stalls, most selling the same food, all with one or two hawkers rattling off their menus. Last weekend we went to a national park, el Desierto de los Leones, to ride bikes. Here's a photo of the ex-convento in the park.
There they were, the same menu-rattling hawkers, same cadence. I wonder if it really brings in more business?

The worst noise pollution comes from drivers. Mexicans drive with one hand on the wheel and the other on the claxon (horn). Should the first car at a stop light not move forward the instant before the light turns green, all the others will lay on their horns. And every Mexican seems to know that the best way to get a traffic jam cleared is to toot horns. Maybe that signals the policemen standing on the busy corners to give loud blasts on their whistles.

I don't have to set my alarm here. The man selling ice comes early and shouts, "Hielo" in a way that makes this short word last for minutes - well, at least several seconds. And the cacophony starts all over again.

Piñatas

2007-11-18T15:59:00.000-08:00

My Spanish classes used to make piñatas for the kindergarten classes in Hampden, and we always had piñatas for Dan's birthday parties when he was young. They've almost become a part of our culture too. And yet I didn't know the history of piñatas until I picked up a booklet about Las Posadas at a church store in Morelia. Las Posadas is a custom that sort of combines Christmas caroling and the pageant: a group of people carrying the peregrinos (images of Joseph and Mary) go in solemn procession seeking lodging (posada). They sing a song about their search, answered by others in the house of their destination. After some give-and-take they enter, and the mood changes from solemn to festive, complete with mariachis and piñatas. The early missionary friars introduced piñatas to illustrate the idea of the rewards of resisting sin. The beautiful piñata represents sin; the stick we break it with, Jesus; the goodies that fall to the ground, the rewards of resisting sin. The most traditional piñatas are stars with seven cone-shaped points - the seven deadly sins. The patio of the Museo de Arte Popular has been decorated for Christmas with piñatas from a contest, including the guajolote (turkey) that follows. They're far too beautiful to break!

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Sunday Surprises

2007-11-18T15:37:00.000-08:00

On Sundays we ride our bikes through the city to Chapultepec Park because the streets are closed to cars. Without fail, we find something of surprising interest. Today it was the Jardín de la Tercera Edad - a part of the park set aside for senior citizens - with interesting sculptures and danzón (beautiful, romantic, danceable music). We, of course, were on our bikes so an official very courteously told us that bike riding wasn't allowed here. He joked, "This part of the park is full of viejitos (oldsters) and there's no repair shop in case of collision." When I told him we would return sans bikes next weekend he was so very gentlemanly shocked that we qualified for admission that I think we'll take him up on his offer to give us dance lessons!
We spent the rest of the afternoon in the Museo de Arte Popular, which is less than a block from our apartment. Hope you enjoy the photos of both places.

Cruz Azul 4, Pachuca 0

2007-11-17T18:39:00.000-08:00

Raul invited us to go with him and his daughter Diana to the opening game of the tournament to support his favorite team, Cruz Azul. It was a great introduction to soccer, Mexican style. Pachuca is the cuna (cradle)of soccer; around 100 years ago some Brits introduced soccer there and Mexicans have loved soccer ever since. Raul and Diana were wearing their Cruz Azul shirts - Diana's with the name of Cesar Delgado, nicknamed Chelito; Diana had a Cruz scarf, and Raul bought a big flag to wave whenever his team scored. And score they did! Chelito scored the first goal and then la maquina celeste scored three more goals to zip for Pachuca. Can't wait for the next game!

La Alameda

2007-11-16T17:02:00.000-08:00

I've mentioned the Alameda often, so you might wonder why it's so important. For one thing, it's the oldest park in Mexico City, built around 1595 on the site of an Aztec tianguis (market), and it's so beloved that every city in Mexico also has a Parque Alameda. (The DF actually has two: the Alameda Central and the Alameda Sur.)At one time the "important" people of the city, led by a man named Revillagigedo (the name of the street we live on), tried to keep the "common" people out, without success. The Alameda has pathways that lead to several beautiful fountains and the usual food, trinkets, shoeshine, newspaper and magazine stands that all parks seem to have. At one side of the park is the Museo Mural Diego Rivera, which houses the mural Sueño de una tarde dominical en la Alameda Central (Dream of a Sunday afternoon in the Alameda Park), a mural painted for a hotel that was destroyed in the 1985 earthquake. Miraculously, the mural was unharmed and later moved to this site. Every day groups of men play chess in front of this museum. At the other end is Bellas Artes, and facing Avenida Juárez is a very large white marble monument to el Benimérito Benito Juárez, first Indian President of Mexico.

Special events take place in the Alameda every weekend: sometimes music and dance, markets of artesania or foods, last weekend a combination tent revival and health care booths. The police who patrol the Alameda on horseback wear cowboy outfits and sombreros.

The mural is very interesting. Rivera painted many people important in the history of Mexico (among many others: Juárez, Sor Juana, Porfirio Díaz, Cortés, even Winfield Scott, the American general who occupied the city in the 1840's) and himself as a young boy and Frida as a young woman standing beside La Catrina, the skeleton figure created by Guadalupe Posada, who is to her left. Fine art, popular art, history and holidays are interwoven here. Last weekend we went to the Dolores Olmedo Patiño Museum in the south of the city. An elaborate Día de Muertos ofrenda there included a life-size reproduction of the mural with the figures as skeletons in papier mache.

Protests

2007-11-15T17:40:00.000-08:00

In a city that sees protests at least weekly, if not daily, groups must resort to extreme measures to gain attention. For several weeks now, a banner has been at the base of Cuauhtemoc's statue, naming names and demanding restitution. This statue is at the intersection of two major streets, el Paseo de la Reforma and Insurgentes. On traffic islands nearby, people representing 400 pueblos of Veracruz have set up an encampment of tarp tents. They say that they were dispossessed of their lands by a former governor (now a senator) and two other senators. Men with strategically placed mug shots, accompanied by drum beats, protest on the sidewalks and sometimes into the streets. Women, stark naked as if to demonstrate the severity of their dispossesion, walk between the lines of traffic. A Google search turned up an article with some details about their struggle. It began fifteen years ago, and the manifestaciones in the DF have been going on for five years. Why nude? They tried a hunger strike, but the Senate went on vacation without hearing their demand, so now they say, "We're campesinos. We use the only weapon we have."

Tenochtitlan and Xochimilco

2007-11-13T17:54:00.000-08:00

Mexico City (est. 1524)was built over the site of the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan(est. 1325), which was founded on an island in a shallow lake, where the wandering people saw the sign they had been seeking - an eagle perched on a cactus devouring a serpent. The descriptions of Tenochtitlan given by Hernán Cortés and the other conquistadores show their awe at having discovered such a city, bigger than most cities they knew, more advanced in such things as plumbing, with a highly developed society,impressive architecture, and a lot of gold. And then they destroyed it.

About 24 kilometers away was Xochimilco, founded around 900 BC by the Xochimecos, who were never completely subjugated by either the Aztecs or the Spanish. They had developed an ingenious method of farming: they built up artificial islands (chinampas) in their lake where they were able to produce three crops a year. The conquistadores weren't just impressed by this; they recognized its usefulness to them. And so they didn't destroy it.

The chinampas, full of nurseries (viveros) are still there, connected by canals. Every weekend families and groups of friends float through the canals in trajineras, flat-bottomed boats lined with chairs and a table in the middle - perfect for a Sunday picnic. No need to bring your own food; vendors float by selling their own particular product - corn (elote)cooked over coals, beer, tacos and other antojitos, candy, even flowers for your table or plants to take home. No need to bring you own music either; other boats float by with mariachis, norteño bands or marimba. No need even to bring a crowd of companions; strike up a conversation with people on other boats as they float by.

Don Juan Tenorio

2007-11-12T19:24:00.000-08:00

For over one hundred years the play Don Juan Tenorio has been performed the first week of November in theaters all across the Spanish speaking world. Yes, THE Don Juan. Well, the first play with the Don Juan character was El Burlador de Sevilla by Tirso de Molina (1630) and Tenorio by José Zorilla came later (1844). The final scene in a cemetery gains the play its spot on the calendar. Don Juan is such a dissolute that he not only seduced many women (for which he is so well-known in the English speaking world) but he also won a bet that he, rather than his friend Don Luis, would kill more men in one year. The statue of the last man he killed, the father of Doña Inés, the girl he was intended to marry, comes "alive" when Don Juan visits the cemetery, grabs him and pulls him toward hell. Does virtuous Doña Inés (who had died of sorrow) redeem him and pull him to heaven instead? As I recall from lit class, this is still being debated.
We saw the play last weekend in the Teatro Hidalgo, just across the Alameda from us. The scenery, costumes, and acting were all fine, but the curtain call even better. It was the final performance for an actor who had played the role of Don Juan for forty-six years! (Another actor played the younger Don Juan.) His emotional address to the audience made us all even more glad that we had played a part in carrying on the tradition. Ars gratia artis.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

2007-11-11T05:26:00.000-08:00

On Friday we went to a concert of Sephardic music and music from the viceregal era in the Ex-Convento de San Jerónimo, founded in 1585. This is the convent where the poet and nun Sor Juana (1651-1695),one of Mexico's great icons, lived and died. In an age when most women did not learn to read, she taught herself Latin in a matter of weeks, accumulated a large library, and had scientific instruments. When her unorthodox views on women's rights to education and dissent ran afoul of the church, she was forced to stop writing, sell all her books, and live in isolation. She was extraordinary for any age, especially the 17th century.

The Ex-Convento is now the home of the Universidad del Claustro de Sor Juana, a school that emphasizes the arts and humanities. The concert was given in the context of Día de Muertos, and a very beautiful ofrenda (altar/tribute)to Sor Juana was still in place. A skeleton figure of Sor Juana was by the entrance. Ten identical figures stood in a semicircular background on the stage, with garlands of cempasuchl(yellow, aromatic flower for Muertos) hanging over them.

In the next room, surrounding her tomb, was a tribute done in aserrín (colored sawdust); the aserrín artwork also edged the room. As we entered the auditorium (formerly a chapel), we saw cempasuchl petals strewn along the floor. An ancient, traditional belief holds that the aromas of cempasuchl and incense, the flickering flames of candles, and favorite foods and memorabilia of the deceased will guide their spirits back home. This belief pre-dates Christianity, but it melded with All Souls' Day and is now celebrated on November 1 and 2. A photo of the deceased is usually placed on the ofrenda; the portrait of Sor Juana hung on the back wall of the stage. If her spirit was there, she surely enjoyed the tribute and the music.

Día de Muertos

2007-11-07T17:07:00.001-08:00

Día de Muertos, like much else in Mexico, has both Indian and Spanish roots and is totally Mexican. Since ancient times, people in Mexico have held the belief that the spirits of the dead can find their way back home more easily if enticed by the smoke of incense, the aroma of flowers, and the light of candles. To make them feel comfortable after they arrive, they find some of their favorite things on the ofrenda. Even though I've talked about it every November for years as a Spanish teacher, I really didn't understand how important and beautiful it is until I experienced it here.

We went to Morelia in the state of Michoacan, near Pátzcuaro, where one of the most traditional celebrations takes place. We never did make it to Pátzcuaro but were completely enthralled by what we saw in Morelia and the DF. Driving to Morelia, we saw truckload after truckload of flowers - the yellow cempasuchl, a large wine-colored flower, sprays of small white flowers, all used to decorate the ofrendas. Arriving on Wednesday, we got to see people constructing a very large ofrenda and then passed by it on Thursday night to see it come to life with all the candles and prayers.

The first thing you need to know about Día de Muertos is that it is not Halloween, Mexican-style, not spooky-scary, not weird. Instead, it is a tender, beautiful, communal and personal way for people to honor and remember their loved ones. People build ofrendas, offer prayers, light candles, visit the cemeteries. In some places families spend the entire night of Nov. 1 in the cemetery.

I hope the photos convey some of the beauty, but you will have to imagine the aromas, the sounds. We went into the inner courtyard of a building in Morelia and saw many ofrendas, each one built by a different grammar school. Children filled a stairwell, enjoying an ice cream snack. We got there just as the chorus of another school was setting up for a concert.
It was wonderful to be there, to see their smiles, the proud families enjoying and photographing the event. One father slipped up behind his daughter and held his cell phone by her; I imagine her grandparents were on the other end. Above all, Dia de Muertos is about family.

Agave

2007-11-06T05:50:00.000-08:00

The agave is an amazing plant indigenous to Mexico. Near Teotihuacán, a guide explained its many uses. Tequila may be the first thing that comes to mind, but only the blue agave produces the liquid that is distilled to make tequila. Blue agave grows in western Mexico in an area between Guadalajara and the coast. Its production centers in Tequila, a town which, along with its countryside full of the blue agave, has just been added to UNESCO's World Heritage sites, so important is tequila. The agave that we examined produces two other alcoholic drinks, mezcal and pulque, a very nutritious drink full of protein and vitamins whose popularity among the indigenous lessened when beer was introduced. Two liters of fluid are produced daily, and pulque (with 5% alcohol content) ferments in one day. The agave also produces a fiber that can be woven into fabrics or baskets; but, if you cut off the thorny tip and leave fiber attached, you have a handy needle and thread. One layer within the plant can be peeled off, providing a sheet that looks and feels like synthetic plastic. By slicing open the agave and rubbing the moist inside, you can find a substance that can be used as soap or aloe vera.

Teotihuacán

2007-11-05T18:09:00.000-08:00

Teotihuacan, built between 100 BC and AD 250 and inhabited until about AD 750, is one of Mexico's most important pre-Hispanic
archaeological sites and was the dominant civilization of Mesoamerica in its day. (My Latin students should note that it was flourishing around the same time as Rome.) In my opinion, it's even more impressive than the Yucatan's Chichen Itzá, recently proclaimed one of the seven wonders of the "modern" world. Among the unknowns of Teotihuacan: who built it, what language they spoke, what they called their city. Later the Aztecs named it Teotihuacan, the place where gods are born. Two pyramids dominate the site - the Pyramid of the Sun and the Pyramid of the Moon.

The structures were originally covered in a sort of stucco and painted with murals. Here are some murals from inside one of the buildings. The plume coming out of one figure's mouth indicates speaking. The bottom image of a man being tortured or sacrificed (along with other recent studies) points to a more violent civilization than scholars previously thought.

The Ten 2007 - 2008 Fulbright Teachers in Mexico

2007-11-05T17:21:00.000-08:00

Many of you have heard of Fulbright, the program begun by Sen. Fulbright to promote mutual understanding between the US and other countries by exchange of scholars and teachers. In Mexico the exchange is under the auspices of Fulbright/Garcia Robles and is administered by COMEXUS, the Commission Mexico / US for Educational and Cultural Exchange. Last week COMEXUS organized a meeting of all ten 2007-2008 Fulbright teachers in Mexico. We spent Monday through Wednesday together, comparing experiences, enjoying the camaraderie of peers, and experiencing the hospitality and support of COMEXUS. Each of us is experiencing a different Mexico.
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Margaret (from Maine) lives in 110 degree Ciudad Obregón with her five-year-old daughter Lucy. She teaches five classes of around 45 students each in a preparatoria (high school). Jan (Montana) teaches similar numbers in a middle school in Cuernavaca, where he lives with his wife and two children. David (Minnesota), in Ensenada, Baja California Norte also has very large classes. He teaches science and English, and lives there with his wife and two children. Anna (Virginia)is on the other side of the Baja in Mexicali. Elizabeth (New York) has embraced the indigenous people and culture of Huehuetla in the Sierra de Puebla, living in one room (with a bath but no kitchen) with her daughter Rachel, who is spending her high school senior year abroad with her mom, volunteering to teach English. Nancy (New Mexico) teaches two college classes in Jalapa. Billy (with Minnesota/NY/Vermont roots), Cecilia (Colorado), Melissa (Minnesota) and I all teach at the Instituto Politécnico in Mexico City. Billy lives in the Condesa with his wife and three children; he teaches English to students in the tourism program at a different campus from the rest of us, who are teaching three classes each of business English at the Santo Tomas campus. Melissa has her daughter Graciela with her. The families with children enrolled in different schools are seeing an even broader spectrum of Mexican life, and even those of us in the DF have widely varied experiences since we live in different colonias (neighborhoods). All ten report great satisfaction with life in Mexico; each of us seems to have a genuine love of the people and country, combined with an attitude of optimism and flexibility and the support of adventurous families.

We stayed at the Hotel Geneve in the Zona Rosa; the hotel earned our high recommendation (but eat somewhere else). COMEXUS treated us to a lovely reception where we met former Fulbrighters and US embassy staff, lunch at La Casa de la Sirena in the centro historico, a tour of Teotihuacan with lunch at La Gruta, a farewell breakfast at Kondotori. Great food at all three restaurants! La Gruta is especially fine because of its unusual location: it's actually in a cave and has been in operation for over 100 years, proudly boasting that General Porfirio Díaz once dined there. Since we were there on Oct. 31, we also saw the ofrenda (altar to the deceased)placed in honor of its founder for Día de Muertos.

Skulls

2007-10-25T11:53:00.000-07:00

Oct. 25, 2007

Last night we went to a Fulbright-organized guided visit of an exhibition, Brújula de Cuestiones (Compass of Questions), at the OMR Gallery in the Roma neighborhood, an exhibit that seems to me quintessentially Mexican. Read on. The artist, Gabriel de la Mora, led us first into a room with a clear plastic cube that contained the remnants of a smashed life-sized piñata figure of himself; on one wall was a screen showing a video of Gabriel methodically breaking the piñata and then placing the pieces (including the head still attached to shoulders, papier mache organs, long red ribbons, and tiny red confetti - the better to represent blood), while the other wall held a smaller video showing close-up views of the same action.

In the next room were two portraits of his father, also named Gabriel. At first view and from a distance, they appeared to be charcoal or ink drawings. Closer inspection revealed the first unusual characteristic: they were done entirely with tiny strands of human hair! And the room was filled with a sound emanating from the "cuadros sonoros", a sound we later learned was a computerized analysis of each of the sounds of the words brujula de cuestiones. One portrait was of his father at the age of 25, when he first became a priest; the other at 42 when he got married. Gabriel first learned that his father had been a priest for 13 years at his funeral, a secret revealed that had a profound existential effect on him. His conclusion: a secret is not a lie but rather a hidden truth.

One other work of art was in this room - a free-form sculpture made of strands of hair tied together and forming a structure. Interestingly, the structure changes form if it is moved at all. All the hairs come from Gabriel and his family, including his deceased father and a stillborn sister. The artist had to get permits to exhume the bodies.

His father had written a book entitled Manumiso, published as a novel and later revealed as autobiography, about a priest who leaves the church. On the ground floor of the gallery, the book is placed on a shelf on one wall, and the center of the room is dominated by 38 tall cubes, each containing alphabet pasta shapes of the letters, numbers, and punctuation marks used in the book - one cube for each symbol, one pasta symbol for each time the letter, number or punctuation was used. The letter "e" was the most often used, with "a" and "i" following. This and the pinata made me wonder if the artist is obsessed with constructing meaning by deconstruction, the reverse of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts.

Of greater interest was a wall full of another type of family portraiture; each member of his family, beginning with his 88-year-old grandmother and ending with young nieces and nephews, was represented by three things - skull, signature, and a five-times enlarged fingerprint. All these things were done with hair from the individual represented there. The signature and fingerprint of the stillborn sister were missing; her skull was included. The artist commented that the cranium, devoid of exterior characteristics, is universal as well as individual. Nationality, appearance, race, and sex are not apparent in a skull. On the other hand, DNA, present in the strands of hair, and fingerprints are completely individual.

One room of the exhibit displayed the whole family together on a stage, each family member represented by a fairly large marionette with personality and appearance faithfully represented; the marionettes were controlled by mechanisms mounted on the ceiling. The side and back walls served as screens for showing videos highlighting each marionette individually.

The last room was even more interesting. Exact replicas of the skulls of each member of his family (his own included) were mounted on slender rods at exactly the height of the individual (the deceased baby as if in her mother's arms).

Their shadows formed interesting patterns on the wall and floor. At this point in the exhibit, I couldn't help but think of all the skulls I've seen in Mexican art from very ancient times, the sugar skulls in the bakeries for Dia de los Muertos, the papel picado (cut paper) skull designs that decorate Day of the Dead festivities, the Catrinas, the skeleton caricatures of Guadalupe Posada. None of this strikes me as macabre, just very Mexican.

Guanajuato

2007-10-22T16:21:00.001-07:00

Oct. 22, 2007

Thirty-five years ago some students at the University of Guanajuato took to the streets and performed some entremeses (short plays) of Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, author of Don Quijote (published 1605), and thus the Festival Cervantino was born. Now an important international cultural event, it was the magnet that drew us to Guanajuato last weekend. Guanajuato without the festival deserves a visit; it's one of twenty-five Patrimonio de Humanidad (World Heritage) sites in Mexico. This is a UNESCO designation that honors places of significant contribution to world culture. Felipe II of Spain had earlier (end of 16th century) paid tribute to Guanajuato for the great wealth Spain was extracting from its mines. These riches that helped him finance the Counter-Reformation and launch the Invencible Armada also enabled the Spanish silver barons to embellish the city. Guanajuato is built on the steep slopes of a ravine, with narrow streets (some that disappear underground into tunnels), pleasant plazas, and gorgeous colonial architecture. It's one of Mexico's truly beautiful cities, and it has learned to celebrate the arts, even though in more conservative times it spurned its most famous native son, Diego Rivera. His childhood home is now a four-story museum of his early work. Another very enjoyable museum to visit is the Museo Iconografo del Quijote, with paintings, sculpture and ceramics from four centuries inspired by Spain's most well-known literary creation. We also visited the Alhondiga de Granaditas, site of the first major victory in Mexico's War of Independence and now a history and art museum.

The Festival Cervantino attracts people who buy tickets to scheduled performances in historic buildings, theaters and auditoriums and a younger crowd which fills the streets, watching or creating street entertainment. One lively group we saw on the street was performing skits inspired by Guadalupe Posada's caricatures (the skeletons); another was like a Tuna from Spain, a student chorus playing and singing traditional songs. We went to a modern dance performance of a Brazilian company in an auditorium that had displays in the lobby of beautiful modern ceramics from China, the featured guest country this year.

Dolores Hidalgo

2007-10-22T14:50:00.000-07:00

Oct. 22, 2007

Sooner or later we had to get to Dolores Hidalgo, the cradle of independence where Padre Miguel Hidalgo on September 16, 1810 rang the bells of the church you see here and proclaimed an end to bad government and the beginning of New Spain's struggle against the mother country. Each year at 11 PM on September 15, this Grito is repeated across Mexico. Here in the DF the event takes place in the Zócalo, where the president does the honors. This year, however, President Felipe Calderón's Grito was preceded by that of his rival in the 2006 elections, López Obrador, who still claims to be the legitimate president. So the fireworks between these two factions heated up the Zócalo before the spectacular Independence fireworks that closed the ceremonies.

We stopped by Dolores Hidalgo on our way to the Festival Cervantino in Guanajuato last weekend to see the heroic, hopeful beginning of the War for Independence. (OK, our second motivation was to check out the Talavera pottery made there.) And later, at the Alhóndiga de Granaditas (the old granary) in Guanajuato, we saw the place where for several years the Spanish displayed the heads of four of the rebel leaders, including Hidalgo's.

Thank God for the U.S. Embassy (and cell phones)!

2007-10-21T16:57:00.000-07:00

Oct. 21, 2007

The policeman on motorcycle waved us over just as we crossed from the Distrito Federal (el DF) into the state of Mexico. Two of his cronies soon joined him. We knew the mordida would be high even though we had broken no law; the mordida (literal meaning, the bite) increases in proportion to the number of cops. We know the drill: get out of the car, ask politely what's wrong, come to an agreement about the seriousness of the "infraction" and the amount of pesos.

Pollution control measures require drivers to comply with "Hoy no circula" rules. According to the last number of the license plate, cars must not circulate on certain days. Rocinante's plates end in 8, so we don't drive on Tuesdays. These ladrones claimed that because we have foreign plates, we cannot drive on Friday; according to them, this is such a serious offense that they must impound our car. Our protests only served to increase the length of time in the pound from just one day to the entire weekend, the pesos from 1500 to 3000! We were incensed enough to call the U.S. Embassy, easy to do because I had programmed the number into my cell phone before we even left Maine.

The woman at the Embassy said, "They're crazy!" and asked me to pass the phone to the one who seemed most in charge. The ladrones asked who we had called. I replied, "The U.S. Embassy." One of them quickly jumped on his motorcycle and sped off. A second one asked, "What did they say?" I happily replied, "Francamente que Uds. están locos." But it makes me sad and angry that corrupt thieves like these give Mexico such a bad reputation. Without the embassy number on speed dial, a cell phone that worked in the city, and the ability to speak Spanish, we would have been at their mercy. It was almost worth the hour delay to get the best of these clowns.

By the way, to call the embassy from within the DF, dial 50-80-20-00. If you're in other areas of Mexico, call 01-55-50-80-20-00. We've had four incidents with corrupt police over a period of several years - two within the last week; I would not want to travel without having these numbers handy.

Tres Marías, Acapulco, Pie de la Cuesta

2007-10-15T14:17:00.000-07:00

Oct. 15, 2007

Edith (surely the world's kindest English Dept. chair) invited us to go to Acapulco with her to stay at her brother-in-law Jose's house. Since we got a very early start, we stopped for breakfast at Tres Marías, a spot about an hour from the city. We pulled off Rt. 95D, the cuota (toll) road and into a tianguis (market) of food stands, one after the other, all with enticing aromas and tasty displays. We settled on the Restaurante Acapulco and ordered Quesadillas de flor de cabeza (Zucchini blossom quesadillas, one of my favorites), sweet tamales, chicken tacos, and coffee. The green sausage you see hanging in the photo is called longaniza; it's good. A vendor walked by and offered us samples of delicious Oaxaca cheese. By Sunday, hungry and stuck in traffic, we regretted our decision not to buy it - we must have still been half asleep. Cece proposed a rule we intend to follow: we will not pass up ever again any food or artesania that we reallly like. Agreed!

One incident marred our entry into Acapulco. As Rocinante was passing through an intersection, the light turned red. The cop ahead of us went through, and Bill (after looking both ways, of course) followed. Immediately, a motorcycle cop appeared out of nowhere and pulled us over. The dreaded mordida (bribe) was about to happen. In Mexico, a red light is widely considered a suggestion to stop, a warning to look carefully, an imperative to stop only if there is a good reason. Seeing none, most Mexicans will drive on through. In fact, during rush hour policemen are at the busiest intersections whistling people through with total disregard for the red lights; it's much more efficient. But we, driving quite possibly the only car from Maine in the whole country and mindful of our last outrageous mordida in 2004, are very careful to obey every single law.

This time, Edith went with Bill to talk to the cop. It's not considered good form to stay in the car. You must go to the policeman and address him with utmost respect if you hope to escape with a small mordida. Cece and I watched from the car. Bill just stood there, wiping his brow from time to time. Edith, a woman of consummate courtesy, did all the talking. The policeman ahead of us waved us through...her family was waiting for us at the house...we didn't see the light...we weren't familiar with the city...yada, yada...and the clincher: what could we do to arrange the matter? The cop passed her a book, she discreetly returned to the car, took out a 100 peso bill (around $10), slipped it into the book and gave it to the policeman, who then stopped traffic to allow Bill to U-turn to follow him to a better route. And that's how it's done in Mexico.

When Bill and I made our first trip to Mexico in 1972, we camped outside of Acapulco in a small town called Pie de la Cuesta. It's a spit of land between the booming waves and dangerous current of the Pacific and a quiet, peaceful lagoon where families swim and waterski. It's laid-back, lined with palm trees and more noted for beautiful sunsets than for the Acapulco nightlife. We were thrilled to find out that Jose's house is perched on a hillside at one end of the beach in Pie de la Cuesta, and when the caretakers Antonio and Ruth opened the gates for us, no one wanted to venture out again. So we descended the stairway to the beach, walked down to an open-air restaurant for dinner and came back to the house to watch the sunset from the pool. Heavenly.

Street Vendors

2007-10-12T16:54:00.000-07:00

Oct. 12, 2007

The entrepreneurial spirit is alive and well in Mexico City. Its roots are ancient and perennial. Along every major street you can buy just about anything you want - from food to batteries to porn to hair ribbons - in stands, covered by tarps, that are set up and removed daily. This can be viewed as a convenience or a nuisance, depending on your needs. Do you want to walk down the sidewalk to your destination or do you need to buy something ASAP on your way to work? We live very near the Eje Central, one of the major cross-city routes, which is replete with vendors. Because this is also in the Centro Historico and near the Zocalo, the Eje Central has been targeted for a street clean-up. Vendors have been put on notice that they have to close shop and move to plazas that the city government has set aside for them. Since street vendors have plied these streets since pre-Hispanic times, there is much resistance to the idea. It should be interesting to see how this situation develops. Also hard to decipher, since the clean-up starts now, mid-October, but with a reprieve for the Christmas season. Stay posted!

Our Daily Bread

2007-10-11T15:30:00.000-07:00

October 11, 2007

Bread could be our favorite food. We especially love a chewy, tasty, dense bread with a hard crust such as a French baguette, the pan de pueblo of Spain, Cuban bread, any Italian bread, or the round loaves and rolls from Calandra's in New Jersey. We haven't found this type of bread here, despite many trips to the panaderia. But remember the song, "If you can't be with the one you love, honey, love the one you're with"? Mexicans have perfected pan dulce (sweet bread) and have given it as many varieties as the Italians have for pasta. And here's the lucky part: you don't have to know the name of the variety to try it. As you enter the panaderia, you pick up a big round tray and tongs, walk among the displays of tempting treats, and choose what appeals to you. Then you go to the counter where an attendant bags it and gives you a tally, which you take to the cashier, who gives you a receipt to take back to the bagger to trade for your baked goods. The price is very reasonable, and at the end of the day there are twofers. We have the good luck to live near both the Ideal and El Globo bakeries, two of the oldest and most traditional in the city. So, even though we still prefer our bread dense, substantial and crusty, we are steady customers of both the Ideal and the Globo. We can't fault a country that contributed both the tortilla and pan dulce to world cuisine for their lack of heft and crust.

2007-10-10T18:05:00.000-07:00

October 12, 2007
El Danubio

One night, craving seafood as Mainers often do, we went to the Danubio on Uruguay Street. According to the guide book, some consider it the best seafood in the D.F., and the seafood soup we had there was really good. The Danubio's walls are lined with framed, autographed napkins, some with drawings. We wondered if they had been signed by famous people or just longtime customers of the restaurant, so we took a closer look. Opposite us was one signed by Gabriel García Márquez (Nobel for Literature, 1982 ) and another with the autograph of Carlos Fuentes. My old students at Hampden should recognize Fuentes as the author of El Espejo Enterrado (The Buried Mirror), a quincentennial look at the transatlantic link between Spain and Latin America. Just above us was a napkin signed by Octavio Paz (Nobel for Literature, 1990). So we concluded that they must be famous. I recommend this restaurant to those of you who appreciate great literature and fine seafood.

Chapultepec

2007-10-07T07:50:00.001-07:00

October 7, 2007

Hope you are enjoying your long Columbus Day weekend at home. We spent yesterday biking in the Bosque de Chapultepec, the huge park in Mexico City.

The park includes a zoo, a botanical garden, lakes, walking, jogging, and biking paths, stands selling antojitos (typical Mexican food),
souvenirs and trinkets, and the Castillo, which played a role in the Mexican-American War and now houses a museum. The great Museo de Antropología, the Museo Tamayo, and the Auditorio Nacional flank it. On weekends the park is filled with people enjoying its many treasures. One of the pathways is called the Paseo de Quijote; it has a modern sculpture of Don Quijote on Rocinante, lance pointed skyward, surely tilting at those famous windmills.
There is also in this section a small plaza with benches around a fountain and sculptures of Don Quijote with the face of Salvador Dali and Sancho Panza with the face of Diego Rivera. The Paseo de Quijote intersects the Calzada de los Poetas, which loops around a lake. Along this path are sculptures of famous poets, each with a plaque quoting a poem.

As we were reading some of the poems, we heard drum beats and the gentle rattle of the anklets of Aztec dancers, smelled the intriguing aroma of copal (an incense), and went to investigate. A group of about twenty dancers of all ages was performing, not for the public, but rather for themselves. Some were playing a mandolin-type instrument made of what looked to me like an armadillo shell. We had seen Aztec dancers before in the Zocalo peforming purification rituals

for paying customers who stood there while a shaman circled them with incense burners and switched them with some bouquets of herbs, a sign on the pavement stating that the ritual could clean your aura, attract health and peace, cure arthritis, ulcers and stress and chase away mal de ojo (the evil eye). While those rituals in the Zocalo seemed commercial, this dance seemed genuinely spiritual. At one point two dancers blew into a conch shell, making a haunting primeval musical sound. As we were really getting into the spirit of the performance, two young boys, video camera in hand, approached and asked if they could interview us (in English) for a school project. How could we refuse?

On the way out of the park, we passed a performance of mariachi music and traditional dance. The musicians were all dressed in white mariachi suits while the featured singer, América Zapata, was dressed in a long brown mariachi skirt suit.

The dancers, two men and two women, were in beautiful, colorful folkloric costumes. This performance was part of a series of events planned by the Secretaria de Cultura to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the Bosque. Just in case our senses were not quite yet on overload, a display of antique automobiles caught our attention as we exited the park.

Jaripeo

2007-10-07T05:53:00.000-07:00

Oct. 5, 2007

These photos are from the jaripeo, a rodeo event, that we went to on Friday. The jaripeo has horses, bulls, and riders in common with a Western rodeo, and the similarities end there. The women, announced individually, gallop full speed into the arena, where they abruptly stop in a cloud of dust. Wearing beautiful long white dresses and wide-brimmed Mexican hats, they ride side-saddle. When all eight women had entered the arena, they began precision riding that I can only compare to an intricate dance. And could you have dance without music? The band, dressed in red and white marching band uniforms, played rousing norteno music and corridos (ballads). After a while, people started dancing in the stands, and after the event ended they filled the arena and danced more. Amparo, a teacher who just retired from the Poli, had invited us, and we joined a group of her friends; one of the women riders was Amparo's god daughter, and many of her friends and family were there to see the performance. One brought a bottle of tequila, another a stack of potato quesadillas; everyone joined in.

The men riders were dressed in charro suits and wore wide-brim hats. They did some interesting rope work with their lariats - not as much as we would have liked, but Edith told us that the fancy rope work happened more at an event called a charreada. This was a jaripeo, and the main events here are bull riding and paso de la muerte (the pass of death). The paso de la muerte involves a group of cowboys galloping in a pack around the arena along with an untamed horse. At some point, one of the riders jumps off his horse and onto the wild horse. They all continue to ride until the wild horse stops bucking. It's an exciting event, and we saw three pasos de la muerte. Sorry I have no photographs to show you; the action is far too fast for anything other than a blurred image.

In the end, the president of the Agrupación de Charros Regionales de la Villa drew ticket numbers for the raffle prizes, including a set of spurs. Alas, we didn't win, but maybe that's a good thing since the winner leapt over the wall that separates spectators from arena. As in all things we do here, watching the people is as much fun as experiencing the event. The Mexican joie de vivre adds much to our enjoyment of this place.

Bicicletas y calles

2007-10-03T18:12:00.000-07:00

Top: bikers heading toward the Zocalo
Bottom: Scouts at the entrance to Chapultepec Park

Oct. 3

Shopping is an experience here. Wal-Mart, of course, has several stores in the city. The Mercado de San Juan, a very nice market that sells all kinds of meat, fish, and vegetables, is a few blocks away. For artesanía, we go to La Ciudadela or the Fonart stores that sell a variety of hand-crafted items. There are several mom-and-pop variety stores, Seven-Eleven (just called Seven here) and its Mexican version, the OXXO. We also have Waldo's, a store that sells cheap miscellaneous small stuff, similar to Marden's or Bob's, and shops that sell trinkets for just three pesos or just seven pesos. But if you want a bigger item, you have to go to the street that specializes in that product. There are streets with stores that sell mostly shoes, others that sell lighting fixtures, one near us that specializes in bathroom stuff, another that sells things for the kitchen, another for computers. Musical instruments can be found on - fans of Joan Manuel Serrat's version of Antonio Machado's "Guitarra del Mesón" will appreciate the appropriateness of this - calle Mesones.

When we decided to buy bicycles to join the Sunday rides and vary our workout routines, we went to the street that has dozens of bicycle shops, calle San Pablo. But this street has a double specialty. The oldest profession is quite obviously a part of the scene on San Pablo; one or more prostitutes stand in front of each of the little shops! In contrast to the usual hawking that goes on to solicit business, they are silent, merely standing on their clear plastic stiletto heels, provocatively dressed, waiting for customers.

Most of the shops sell the same bikes, for the same price, most manufactured here in Mexico, some advertising "Italian technology", with prices ranging from around $70 to $1000, most in the $100 range. Two Mexican brands are the BR and the Benotto. I bought a BR, and Bill got a Benotto, the Italian tech one, for around $250 total; our friend Cece got one for $70. We were so exhausted by the cacophony of calle San Pablo that we left without buying chains, so they're now stored in Rocinante (the Tahoe). Bill already rode his down the Reforma to Chapultepec on Tuesday, when we were at school, although our students were not (the Oct. 2 demonstrations).

2 octubre no se olvida Oct. 2 is not forgotten

2007-10-03T07:04:00.000-07:00

October 2 is a sad, angry, volatile day here. On Oct. 2, 1968 (ten days before the Summer Olympcis in Mexico City) students and union workers had organized a demonstration in Tlaltelolco at the Plaza de las Tres Culturas, demanding reforms including autonomy for the huge university. Exits to the plaza were sealed off and police and military opened fire on the demonstrators, killing many. Reports vary on how many: officially, 30; unofficially, hundreds, maybe a thousand or more. On October 2, most students don't go to classes at all; at 4:00 they organize and walk (sometimes run) from the Casco de Santo Tomás, where the Politécnico is, and from Tlaltelolco through the city into the Zócalo. Police, shoulder-to-shoulder, line the sidewalks, helicopters patrol, granaderos - police in riot gear - are nearby in dark gray buses. By 5:30 the demonstration had reached our area; it probably ended around 6 in the Zocalo. Amid shouts of "Libertad", banners demanding justice, and posters of Che, people with spray paint were busy "decorating" news stands and walls with slogans and symbols, while police looked on without responding.

Sundays in the City

2007-09-30T16:12:00.001-07:00

Sept. 30

On Sundays, the city is given back to the people: some of the major streets are closed to cars from 6 A.M. until 2 P.M. and opened to bikers, joggers and pedestrians, who can travel safely all the way from Chapultepec Park to the Zocalo without traffic! This includes the most beautiful street in the city, the Paseo de la Reforma, which ends at Chapultepec. Modeled on the Champs Elysees, it's a broad, eight-laned avenue, adorned with five glorietas, roundabouts. Traffic coming into a glorieta can go both right and left, so it's a bit tricky to learn to drive around them without colliding with traffic entering from the other side. Each glorieta, except one that contains a single palm tree, has a statue, monument or fountain; from north to south, the monument to Columbus with a symmetrical rose garden on each side, then a statue of Cuauhtemoc, Aztec leader who fought the conquistadores, then the palm tree, followed by the Independence Monument, crowned with a golden Angel, and finally the Diana Cazadora (the Huntress) monument, a beautiful fountain. These five landmarks help people orient themselves in this part of the city. For example, the U.S. Embassy is near the Angel. On both sides of the Reforma are laterales, side streets that give easier access to other sections of the city, and broad sidewalks with lots of trees and unique, artistic, whimsical benches. Besides the Reforma, Avenidas Juarez and Hidalgo, on either side of the Alameda, are also closed, as well as a few other streets around the Zocalo. We've been regretting our decision to leave our mountain bikes at home, so today we went down to the calle San Pablo, with its dozens of bike shops, to look for bikes to join the Sunday rides.

Casa González: one of the patios from a balcony

2007-09-28T13:09:00.001-07:00

Sept. 28, 2007

The Shrimp Ceviche a la Casa González was delicious! After dinner we walked down Independencia to the Metropolitan where a crowd was watching people stroll down the pink carpet, "wedding albums" in hand. We asked an official-looking guy if the stars had arrived (yes, they had) and if we could still get tickets (no, we could't). Ever the persistent ones, we hung around until we saw a woman apparently handing out more invitations; we made eye contact, she asked if we would like to go in, they strapped a pink bracelet around our wrists, and there we were, in the front section, waiting for Adam Sandler and Kevin James to be introduced and the movie to begin. And it was funny! The interior of the Metropolitan is rather grand, with corinthian columns and big Greek-like statues, a bit like Radio City Music Hall, a fine setting for a premiere.

Taxis and Taxistas

2007-09-27T16:08:00.000-07:00

September 27, 2007
Today the metro was a lot more crowded than usual and the train stayed at Bellas Artes a long time; then an announcement was broadcast that from Hidalgo, the next stop where several lines cross, only one line was open, so I decided to take a taxi to school. We've been warned to take only sitio cabs, the ones that have a fixed position such as at a hotel, and not to hail one from the street, especially not the VW bugs that have only one door to exit. I don't know anyone who follows this advice, and I would have missed out on many interesting conversations if I had heeded it. Of course, it's the prudent thing to do in a city that has experienced taxi crime, but the media report mostly the bad things that happen. What's interesting in reporting that thousands of people arrived safely to their destination? Anyway, the first taxista today gave me detailed instructions for preparing Pollo en Vino Blanco a la Mexicana (Chicken in White Wine, Mexican Style); I'm renameing the dish Pollo en Vino Blanco a la Miguel and can't wait to try it. The second taxista, who was driving a VW bug, gave me a tip about an interesting site to visit outside the city called Valle de las Monjas, near a national park, Desierto de los Leones. And he insisted for me to write down his name, Andres, and phone number, explaining that he didn't have a card to give me ( lots of people hand out business cards - we need to get some too) because someone had robbed him! For all of you who worry about our safety, please be assured that we are cautious, just not paranoid.
Tonight, Bill is preparing shrimp according to a recipe that Jorge, from the Casa González, gave us. Most important step: thoroughly clean all the vegetables and herbs (in this case, cilantro) and soak them in water with a few drops of Microdyne for 15 minutes. While we're waiting for this process, we're contemplating going to the premiere of Los declaro marido....y Larry (I pronounce you husband....and Larry: Chuck & Larry), Adam Sandler's new movie. We're not big fans, but hey, they closed down the street in front of the Metropolitan, brought out the pink carpet, and decorated it every few feet with beautiful flower arrangements - preparation enough to pique our interest.

2007-09-24T16:27:00.000-07:00

These are the police who patrol the Alameda Park. Dressed in their charro uniforms, they add just the right touch to the Alameda.

Sept. 24, 2007

The music ranges from lively to sublime. In the centro organ-grinders, dressed in khaki tan uniforms (there's a huge variety of uniforms in this city) are on every street, cranking out such standards as "Cielito lindo" with one hand, hat in the other extended for tips. Sometimes an assistant stands nearby asking for the tips. The stands that sell CDs always have music blaring. Often on the subways, the blind pass through playing CDs from a small chestpack and selling copies for "Diez pesos." I think you can buy just about anything for diez pesos: it's a chant you hear often enough, "Diez pesos, solo diez pesos." Since we live within earshot of the Alameda, we often hear music from there, especially on weekends. They often have live bands and dancing in the park. The first weekend we moved into the centro, the music was so loud we couldn't sleep, so we didn't even unpack our bags; but that was because it was the last weekend for"Australian Thunder", a male strip show that had been playing at the Metropolitan down the street. We had seen stretch limos driving around and advertising this show for a few days, and we wondered about the kind of neighborhood we had settled into. It hasn't been that bad since!

Sometimes the music is surprising. After we left the Frida exhibit at Bellas Artes. full of her beautiful, transcendent, ugly, painful, surrealistic style, we stepped into the BA bookstore and heard oh so familiar Elvis! A few weeks ago we were savoring tacos and the ambiente at the Cafe de Tacuba, when we were surrounded by the music of guitars and beautiful voices singing traditional Spanish (not Mexican) ballads - Clavelitos, Valencia, etc. Once we were really enjoying a balladeer singing at a Chinese restaurant (Chinatown is a few blocks away) when another (not as enjoyable) singer strolled up and started singing at our table. We -and the waiter- just rolled our eyes. Yesterday a trio of guitarrists serenaded us at lunch at the Hotel de Cortes, and last Sunday as we ate breakfast on calle Gante, a pedestrian street, a jazz trio with long dreds was playing in front of a typical Mexican pushcart selling food just in front of a Starbuck's. Strange juxtapositions!

On weekends there are sometimes small concerts at two historical buildings near the Zocalo. We went to one at the Antiguo Colegio de San Idelfonso, at one time home of the preparatoria made famous in the movie Frida. She was a student at the school when Diego Rivera, home from Europe and still painting with European influences, was painting the mural Creation. That mural forms the backdrop for the stage. A cappella singers, the madrigalistas of Bellas Artes, sang many traditional tunes and the featured singer Luz Bermejo, now quite elderly, sang some amazing tangos, accompanied by a virtuoso Russian pianist. We enjoyed the concert and the setting immensely. And at the end, the music director announced the tribute to Pavarotti for the following Wednesday (please see post for 9/23), a most moving celebration of his life and sublime music.

2007-09-23T16:52:00.000-07:00

September 23, 2007

Hello to all our family, friends, and students!

This photo is of el Palacio de Bellas Artes, home of art galleries, a theater with a beautiful Tiffany crystal curtain depicting the volcanoes Popocatepetl and Ixtaccihuatl which surround the city, the Ballet Folklórico, the opera and much more. Recently it was the site of a major Frida Kahlo exposition. Huge crowds waited hours to get in; on the last day the line completely circled the Alameda Park! Of course, we went too, but I actually enjoyed more visiting her museum in Coyoacan the following weekend. The photo is taken from a delightful coffee shop terrace across the street on the 8th floor of Sears (pronounced Say-ares here). Most days I walk through the Alameda to the metro stop just to the left of Bellas Artes, a most pleasant way to start the day. A week ago I stepped out of the subway and into this plaza, where tenors from the Mexico City Opera were paying tribute to Pavarotti from the portico. Bill had arrived earlier and had a front-row seat. Women handed out hundreds of roses, which individuals placed in a huge vase next to a big photograph of a smiling Luciano Pavarotti, much loved here for his efforts to bring classical music out of the opera house and offer it to the public. And this is one of the reasons I love living here: art and music are everywhere and easily accessible.