Hola Ya'll! Part 2: The Beginning of Mexico

The morning after our engagement discussion, Dad drove us to the airport and we boarded the long flight to Mexico City. After a layover in Dallas and lots of bad pretzels, we landed in D.F. and I was reminded how tough it is to speak Spanish. I fumbled all over myself trying to find the nonexistent shuttle to our hotel, when we finally found an authorized cab driver who overcharged us but was very friendly and safe.

Our hotel, Hotel Prim, was located in the Zona Rosa district, which is an up-and-coming area with coffee shops, bars, clubs and art spaces. It used to be really fancy and busy but then the Metro came through and, according to some snotty woman we met in the rich part of the City, "brought along all the type of people you don't want in your neighborhood." I think she was referencing to young people and not grossly rich people, so that means we fit right in! Apparently though, all the rich people moved out to this other part of DF called Polonco and then places in Zona Rosa started shutting down and the area went to shit for awhile. But in the past few years, a huge community of gay and lesbian youth moved in and now there are all these clubs (gay and straight) popping up everywhere. It was really perfect for us! Busy in some areas but quiet and residential in others, yet overall very safe. And Hotel Prim, which was rated on Travelocity as a two star hotel, was actually lovely. It wasn't fancy, but we had our own room and bathroom that was cleaned everyday. And they supplied us with free bottles of water, which was really excellent. Also, they provided free internet access and had a club and restaurant on the first floor. Unfortunately, the club was $8 to get in and was run by a fascist who was not flexible in any way, so we didn't spend much time there. But that's okay because we could hear the music loud and clear in our room!

So, the first day we actually slept for 4 hours! We were so tired from being up late the night before and traveling all day. On the first plane ride, Dave and I had to sit apart and he was stuck in the middle of a squad of high school cheerleaders going to Nationals in Dallas and was like, I have to vomit! So he didn't get any sleep at all. But anyway, when we woke up we went walking through Zona Rosa, which was mostly dead since Thursday nights are apparently not happening. After a little bit, we found the main strip on a street called Hamburgo, which was full of clubs BLASTING salsa and rumba music. We were looking for something more chilled out and found a perfect bar called the Blue Zone (I think) that was this pool hall with $1.50 Coronas and an air hockey table. They were playing a live concert video of Pink Floyd while Dave and I battled it out air hockey style and then played the longest, worst game of pool. But it was all quite fun, and just what we were looking for. And by the end of that night, my Spanish came back to me and I was speaking just like in Ecuador. And Dave was very impressive! I knew he could understand most Spanish and speak some, but he was rocking out. By the end of the week, he was speaking with the best of 'em!

After sleeping in Thursday morning, we went downstairs for a huge, yummy and cheap plate of huevos rancheros. We wanted to fully explore Mexico City that day, so we walked from our hotel through Zona Rosa and into the main plaza of DF called Zoloco. And it was indeed loco! There were sooooo many people, all focused on this ice skating rink in the middle of the plaza. Except because it was beautifully sunny with clear blue skies and warm breezes in the upper 70s, the ice melted quickly so we saw these bikers toting bricks of ice down the street to replenish the rink! That was funny. We also passed tons of shops, which seemed to be divided into themed blocks. Like, two blocks was shops with just light fixtures. And then the next few blocks was kids clothes and toys. Then it was shoes, then jewelry and gaudy knick-knacks. People crowded the sidewalks and just walked in the streets alongside cars, and adorable pinatas were hanging everywhere, off the phone wires and sides of buildings. Dave was particularly struck by the road maintenance, which was pretty hilarious. I suppose Mexican companies don't worry as much about being sued as those in the States, because there were four or five roads completely dug up with huge holes and rocks everywhere, and men working with power tools inside of them, with bikers and pedestrians just walkin' like normal! Very different. Also, the architecture was just insane. Every building had a beautiful gate or gorgeous tiles and bricks. Even the street lamps were decorated and detailed!

After lots of walking and gawking, we made our way to El Colegio de San Ildefonso, which was once the big Prep High School of DF. Frida Kahlo went there (that's where she first met Diego Rivera!) and all three of the muralists were commissioned to paint on its walls. The school is now an amazing (and enormous!) museum with courtyards maintained just like they were in the 20s and 30s. We saw so much impressive, thought-provoking art, walking around for hours, and still didn't see all its contents. My highlights from this museum:
* Diego Rivera painted his first mural in an auditorium that is seriously hidden. It took us at least half an hour to find it because you have to walk under some stairs and then through this small hallway that leads to a small door, that then opens up to this gorgeous auditorium. The mural, "Creation," is on the wall behind the stage and isn't as detailed as his later ones but is still truly beautiful. We just sat in the chairs, staring up at this piece of art, thinking about what it was like to be Frida Kahlo or Diego Rivera at that time.
* There was a big exhibit of photography by a Mexican artist named Rene Burri who traveled the world taking photographs of other cultures and war zones in the 20s-40s. Amazing and moving images.
* Jose Clemente Orozco painted a mural on three floors, including in the stairwells. When you first walk into the museum, you enter into a courtyard surrounded by massive columns with this huge Orozco mural staring at you. It's really graphic and violent, with lots of Communist symbolism. Breath taking.
* Anni and Josef Albers are a couple who created weird and cool abstract art. They also took some photos and collected various indigenous artifacts. Their numerous paintings, sculptures and collections took up so many rooms that we didn't see it all, even though we totally dug it.

After the museum, we wandered back to the hotel for a chill out break. That night, we wanted to check out a bar called El Hijo del Cuervo in the Southern part of the City that advertised live rock and protest music. The subway stops running at midnight and rumor has it that cab drivers kidnap white folk, so we wanted to make sure to get back for the subway. After an hour of wandering around the very beautiful part of town where this bar was supposedly located without finding it, we gave up and went to a swank sushi bar with cheap beer playing really cheesy American pop videos. Dave was wearing his very holey jeans, I was wearing a tee shirt and ratty skirt, and without even saying hello, immediately asked for the bathroom. We envisioned getting kicked out, but oh no, not in Mexico. These people are nice. Our server introduced himself and asked for our names, and happily brought us our cheap beers and smiled when we said we weren't ordering food. It was great. We received this type of friendly hospitality the entire trip, and were quite touched by it. We hear stories in America about how crude and dangerous and scary cities in Latin America are, but all three of my experiences in Latin American cities have left me overwhelmed with honest and warm the people I encountered were. Their culture definitely values companionship, family, openness, and the concepts of sharing and helping your neighbor much more than ours does. It felt good to briefly be a part of it.

So after our swank sushi bar, we went back home and decided to hunt for the protest music again the next day. Also on the day's plans were the Trostky Museum and the Frida Kahlo museum, located in the same 'hood as this illusive bar. We needed our rest for another busy day, so we caught the subway back to the lovely Hotel Prim and fell asleep to some bumping piano jazz accompanied by traditional Mexican singing from the $8 club.

More to come...