Some things that struck me about our visit to Mexico City last week...
Stop signs and red lights are to be taken as suggestions, nothing more. Do not assume that any prior knowledge you have about traffic patterns and rules will apply here. They do not. Or they do. Assume at your own risk.
That also seems like it would be a stressful way to live.
We, as gringos, get stared at constantly, even in the insanely huge city that is Mexico City. This is different than New York City. I could walk around looking crazier than all get out in NYC and not get a second glance. Here, all it takes is slightly less melatonin and a Lonely Planet guidebook to feel like a freak of nature.
Time, as Einstein figured out, is relative. We tried to go to the Palacio Belles Artes in order to see one of Diego Rivera's murals. The guidebook, signs, and other literature all said that it closes at 6pm. We arrive shortly before 5:30pm and are told that we can't come in because it's closed. Pointing at the signs and sputtering in barely intelligible Spanglish doesn't seem to help. We walk away, frustrated.
In 1978, underneath a section of the Centro Historico, they discovered partial ruins of a massive Aztec temple structure. In order to excavate the relatively small area that they dug up, it was necessary to destroy a number of colonial-era buildings and infrastructure. I believe this was a good idea. Of course, it led me to fantasize (yes, to have fantasies) about all the other incredible things that must be under all the other buildings they left standing.
For those who don't know, Mexico City used to be a large lake, in the middle of which sat an island city that the Aztecs built. It was reached by a series of roads they made from the shore, like a bunch of bicycle spokes. Over time this lake was filled in and built upon. This has caused the cities buildings to sink over the years, and is a constant issue. Mexico City is sinking.
Frida Kahlo's house is pretty cool. The walls are painted a blue that I would use to paint everything, if I could. We were only able to see a small sampling of paintings due to the refurbishing of much of the house. This seemed to be a pretty standard excuse for a number places we wanted to see.
Still, her garden was (kind of) worth the visit.
Fact: Leon Trotsky lived out his days (until he was stabbed to death with an ice pick) in Mexico City, first staying with Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, later, in his own compound a few blocks away. His house is curiously preserved, almost creepily so. His towel hangs on a rack, his toothpaste on the sink, clothing in the closet, toilet left unflushed. Not really, but it wouldn't have been shocking the way the rest of the place was kept. His ashes are there, in a monument with the hammer and sickle carved into it and the soviet flag flying overhead. He's the only one of the original Russian revolutionaries never to have been "rehabilitated" by the USSR. Seemed like a nice-enough guy. In the end, as you know, Stalin got to him.
The subways in Mexico City are pretty great. Very cheap (20cents a ride), very fast and very efficient. They are all color-codeda and each stop has a symbol associated with it. This is because back in the 60s when it was built, there was a shockingly high percentage of the population that was illiterate. The illustrations served that portion of the population. This was a good idea.
A lot of people seem to blurt out different things in english, almost like a burp or a fart, only without saying "excuse me" afterwards. An example comes to mind.
We were standing in front of a building that contains more Diego Rivera murals but was closed due to more mysterious refurbishing, trying to decide what to do instead. A man came up to us, and with no introduction or encouragement, declared, "Mexico! Mexico City!" and then walked away. Obviously, we agreed with him, but couldn't figure out the proper reply in time. Clearly, this was a missed opportunity for bridging some sort of cultural divide
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