Noise

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.