Dear friends: Well, I’ve returned from Mexico City feeling refreshed and having a new perspective on life. I find Mexico City a very relaxing place yet with plenty of energy to leave one feeling re-energized. I had a wonderful time strolling around the center of town. I stayed in the same hotel in which I always stay: Hotel Monte Carlo on Calle Uruguay near the Zocalo. Nearby are some attractive streets and pedestrian walkways. I walked up Calle Cinco de Mayo, lined with elegant French architecture, and then up to Parque Alameda. It’s a beautiful park with tall, shady trees and broad walkways with iron benches and stone (concrete?) seating areas. The first thing you see when you arrive at Parque Alameda is the impressive Palacio de Bellas Artes. I find it peculiar, and a little absurd, that I have walked past this building many times but never went inside. This time I went inside and upstairs. They had some sort of exhibit about Octavio Paz, a Mexican writer whom I admire very much, and they also had some art exhibits. There was a large mural by Rodolfo Tamayo and several by Diego Rivera. I always enjoy viewing Diego’s work and was glad there were several there on display. His murals have an almost frantic energy, at once playful and fun, yet angry and disturbing, while Tamayo’s mural at this location conveyed immense power. Theres was a large stone archway that have always seen on a large avenue running past Parque Alameda. I cant recall if its on Paseo de la Reforma or not. Paseo de la Reforma is the street on which they have the Angel of Independence and the tombs of Miguel Hidalgo and Jose Morelos, the leaders of the War of Independence from Spain. I have often seen this large stone archway but, sad to say, I had never walked up to it. I did this time and found myself surrounded by the tombs of some of the leaders of the Mexican Revolution: Pancho Villa, Venustiano Carranza, Plutarco Calles, and Lazaro Cardenas. I believe there were one or two others that I cant recall. I was a bit surprised that Emilio Zapata wasnt there. However, I felt quite honored to be at Lazaro Cardenass tomb. Ive met his son Cuauhtemoc who was governor of Michoacan. Ive also met two of Cuauhtemocs sons, one of whom was also governor of Michoacan. Its an impressive family. Cuauhtémoc was also a candidate for president of Mexico. Theres a big controversy that the election may have been stolen from him. Im not saying yes or no on that, just giving a little history. I also went to the Frida Kahlo Museum, also known as the Blue House, in Coyoacan, for the second time. I went there the first time two years ago. Coyoacan is a part of Mexico City (or is it a suburb? Not sure what to call it) but it is quite distant from my hotel. After one expensive taxi ride there two years ago, I decided to learn how to use the subway which only costs five centavos. The Frida Kahlo house was closed the day I went there by taxi, but when I went back the following day I was granted easy entry at a decent price. All the paints and brushes, the kitchen utensils and the dining room, were right where they were when Diego and Frida left. What puzzled me was that I couldn’t feel their presence. Usually when I go into a historical place I’m able to tap into the energy and imagine the person or people who built it. My imagine allows me to peer back in time and consider their concerns, their daily lives, how they may have perceived the world. However, I couldn’t get any of that at the Frida kahlo house on either visit. I don’t quite understand why. They also had some of Fridas colorful and famous dresses on display. These had been locked in a bathroom. By order of her husband Diego Rivera that bathroom, which actually contained about 300 items, was not opened until 2004. Another friend, someone I believe by the name of Olmeida, also made sure it wasnt opened until that time. Some of those items were in a traveling exhibit in Brownsville a few years ago. I talked to the granddaughter of Cristina, Frida Kahlos sister, about it. But I cant remember what she said about why they were kept in storage for so long. Can anybody fill me in? I also had the pleasure of meeting one of my FB friends. I have many FB friends in many places whom I’ve never met, one of them Leigh Thelmadatter, a teacher previously from New Jersey. We met at a restaurant on Calle Independencia near Parque Alameda. It was called Tlaquepaque. She suggested the huaraches. Strangely, I’ve never eaten huaraches. The word literally translates into a certain type of sandal, and that always kind of scared me off. However, at her suggestion, I ordered a huarache with al pastor meat and grated cheese. I don’t quite know how to explain al pastor, except that it is meat sliced from a vertical broiler and usually served as tacos al pastor. She ordered a huarache with a different type of meat. Our orders arrived. The meat and cheese and some spicy green salsa were on a huge open tortilla. I asked how you eat something this huge and she picked up a knife and fork. The salsa wasn’t terribly hot, but hot enough that I had to order a second large glass of Jamaica. It was all very good. I have several dishes I seek out when I’m in Mexico: tacos al pastor, of course, and enchiladas suizas, chicken fajitas, and the Tampiquena plate. In Michoacan a corunda with a bowl of churipo is a must. A corunda is a type of tamale and churipo is a spicy soup. Now my diet in Mexico shall include sandals with meat and grated cheese. Leigh and I had a great visit. She does some writing for Wikipedia, and she later sent me links to two Wikipedia stories, one that had sourced me with a story I wrote, and the other one that sourced me and my book “Artisans of Michoacan.” Thanks for a wonderful and insightful visit, Leigh. I look forward to seeing you again. The one thing I hate about traveling by bus is that they travel overnight, and I don’t sleep well, if at all, on buses. I always end up in Mexican destination or at home exhausted, and for some reason I can’t sleep that day, either. However, I had an entertaining encounter in the Reynosa bus station Friday morning while waiting for a bus to McAllen. A bag lady pushing a cart full of plastic bags asked me for 10 pesos and I gave it to her, as I usually do when people ask for change. Many would shy away from this but I always consider that I know nothing about the person’s situation. She thanked me and then asked, “No puede a cojer a mi?” Look it up. P.S. I said no.
Posted on: Mon, 06 Oct 2014 18:28:23 +0000
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