After the harrowing boredom of Los Angeles, Mexico City is just what I needed. Flying in, this vast megalopolis could be viewed for what it really is. A sprawling city that makes LA look like a country town. Low, flat sheets of buildings spread all the way to the horizon – at least to where the horizon should have been. Thick clouds of smog obscured the line between the earth and the sky creating the illusion that this place really does go on forever. Before arriving I had spoken with my mexican friends I met in Vietnam and they had organised for someone to pick me up. The lovely Paulina greeted me and we set off into the concrete jungle. Despite my expectations, the neighbourhoods we passed through were not nearly as dirty as I was expecting and the temperature was warm, but not unbearable. I spent the better part of the trip trying to make small talk in Spanish which was a little nerve wracking at first. I just realised that it has been five years since I last studied it so I was a little out of my depth. Nonetheless, Paulina and her companion Jose were more than friendly enough to let me bumble my way through conversations about music and travel. It wasn`t until about 2 hours later during a difficult part of the conversation that one of them came out with a whole heap of fluent english to explain their point. Haha.
The next day it was time to cruise. Pack on back, feet in jandalls, camera in hand I set out to see sights. I walked briskly through the main square passing the gigantic Zocalo, a massive Spanish cathedral in the middle of the old city centre. Green VW taxis whizzed passed like coconut beetles while spruikers tried their best to promote their shops. Street stalls stood draped in the daily newspapers – over saturated with graphic images of drug traffickers shot dead in the streets. Each day the front page is adorned with a different murder. Overzealous, young lovers kissed passionately in secluded corners while breakdancers put their skills on show. As I entered the subway I felt as though every last one of the 18 million people that live in this city were right there with me. Shotgun wielding policemen stood on platforms, overseeing the daily activities. All part of the war on drugs I guess. My destination today was the famous Teotihuacan - the pyramids and surrounding complex of a formerly great empire. A few trains and a bus later I was walking towards the historic site. Bypassing the hawkers surrounding the entrance I wandered through the front gates and there, rising up in front of me like Pamela Anderson´s breasts, were the giant pyramids of the sun and moon. The sun beat down as I tried my hardest to avoid the the incessant salesmen on my walk around the complex. The near vertical stairways that lead up the side of the pyramid took the wind out of me. Either that or it was the pollution at that altitude that was making me dizzy. These insane structures were the work of the Mexica people in the central areas and were mindblowing to see. Once again I`m sure my photos don`t do it justice. The views of the surrounding buildings were a site to behold from the top and the sheer scale of these huge temples made me feel very, very insignificant.
So with the first big tourist attraction out of the way and a burnt, red face from my stubborn resistance to buying anything at all from the hawkers (even if I needed that damn hat!) I headed back into town. And as I exited the subway station I noticed that I had been treated to two more Mexican specialties. The first was an indigenous demonstration. Apparently the indigenous people from this area have their own little ceremonies a few times a week. They contain singing, traditional dress, dancing, smoking and music. It was great to see some local culture juxtaposed with the urban landscape of the Plaza de la Constitucion. Apparently these dances had been banned by Spanish colonialists, which forced the native people to incorporate elements of christianity into them – just so they could continue doing them. Nowdays though people tend to refute the fact that there are any christian elements and do them simply to raise awareness.
The second speciality I was treated to was a good old Mexican style political protest! Over the native drumming came the sound of raised voices, chanting a mantra against the government. A huge swarm of people holding signs portraying a political leader as hitler headed into the square shouting and screaming. I kept my distance after reading about the 1968 riots before the Olympics where the police shot 400 people dead. They carry shotguns in the subway here so I can only imagine the kind of heavy artillery they have at the ready for protesters. But, after telling a few people about my protest viewing, I learnt that apparently they have one every day in that square. Aww…I thought I`d seen something special!
In amongst the protests, dead drug dealers, pyramids and friend making, I have had some other cool experiences too. Not least of all was the mezcaliria. Mezcal is a drink that is apparently gaining Tequlia-like recognition down in these parts. To the undistiguished palette (mine) it just tastes like Tequila. But the main thing is that you drink it a little slower. You sip it like a beer rather than shooting it down. Paulina took me out to meet some of her other friends at a mezcaleria where they were having a 2 for 1 special. Which worked out to be around $1.50 Australian per drink. Oh dear. As the mezcals flowed, so did the conversation. It was great to be able to sit in a group of people my own age and have a chat in spanish about what I`m up to and hear stories about their lives as well. It was like being with my own friends but everything was in spanish. Amazingly I can understand a lot more that I previously thought. I often get the jokes and can keep up with the stories – the difficulty really comes in when I have to explain something that contains lots of different tenses. But nonetheless, when we hang out in large groups everybody just speaks to me in spanish – which I really love.
Mexico City is great. Sure there are dangerous areas, but like with any city if you don`t go to the bad parts of town, you don`t get in trouble. Simple as that. I`m not sure I would like to live here but it is a great experience to see yet another one of the world`s largest cities. So today I move on to Xalapa, east of Mexico City. The small town is just a stones throw away from the coastal city of Veracruz which is currently hosting the Mexican Carnival. Fabled as the third biggest in the world behind Rio and somewhere else, I see no reason not to heaad out there for some salsa, tequila and sunshine on the beach. Adelante!
