When I was in college and apparently invincible, Rich, our good friends Russell and Amanda, and I left the cozy comfort of the home-made house/chicken coop/migrant farmer shack in Wolfforth (another post,another day) with our sights set on Mexico City.
We drove 10 hours to Nuevo Laredo, parked the car, and crossed the border, toting backpacks, a very small amount of cash, and high hopes. We walked directly to the Laredo bus station where we bought 4 round trip tickets on the next bus to Mexico City. Four hours later, we began our 12 hour journey on a bus that's only amenity was the mounted TV screens for movies - 12 hours of Bruce Lee action films dubbed in French and subtitled in Spanish. Since the bathroom was um...not OK, we were happy when we stopped half-way to Mexico city but soon learned that the "rest stop" consisted of a toilet-less stall (more of a drain) and no tp. Note: a cultural difference - when at a rest stop on a 12 hour bus trip to Mexico, it is recommended that during the one rest stop you run ahead of the others to be first to the "toilet" before you get shoved out of the way. I learned this the hard way and had the bruises that proved it...
Anyway, once we got to Mexico City, we found a great hotel near The Zócalo and settled in. The rest is a blur of activities and thoughts. Here is what I remember:
*The pageantry, colors (including the red and green confetti falling from the roofs around the square when el presidente was returning to his office), and arm to arm street vendors in The Zócalo
* Drinking Corona at every meal, even with pastries at breakfast because the only alternative was hot Pepsi, which was too expensive, and water, which we learned was decidedly NOT purificado! (That is how you know who your friends are - if you can be "Mexico sick" while sharing space in a cubicle of a room and they still talk to you.)
* Visiting the Museo Nacional de Antropología and realizing that I would never be able to understand the word "ancient"
* Being completely afraid of, intimidated by, and in awe of the murals by Diego Rivera.
* Climbing the Pyramid of the Moon at Teotihuacan and realizing at the top that I was so small and insignificant in the grand scheme of the world, but also knowing that that was OK and comforting even
*Drinking coconut milk in Puebla outside of the most beautiful church I've ever seen
* Being completely humbled by the pilgrims crawling across the gravel on bleeding hands and knees to get to the Shroud of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and being confused when I got to the entrance of the church and found a moving sidewalk that swiftly conveyed the pilgrims by the holy relic and that ended at a gift shop where you could purchase bottles of holy water in the shape of the Blessed Virgin (twist -top head is all I'm saying)
* Being disgusted and a little intrigued (since it was my first experience in a situation like this) by the second hotel we accidentally happened upon outside of the city; this accommodation was obviously meant for secret, dubious liaisons: a garage in which one could hide his/her car; a sliding door within the door so that food could be passed from the staff to the occupant(s) without them ever having to be seen (or probably having to dress); the "hot tub" (dear god!, but the pictures of us in this over sized bathtub are funny); the bed with built in tissue dispensers; the TV...um you can guess what stations came in clearly... We can say that we all learned something new from this experience...and we will never mention it again...
* Loving the street tacos - some mystery barbacoa in a corn tortilla with cheese (sin cebollas y sin cilantro por favor!), but having the not quite rights after eating them for two weeks straight.
and more!
The last night we were in Mexico City, we were all completely exhausted and spiritually drained. All we wanted was one last night of rest before we got back on a 12 hour bus ride, followed by a 10 hour car trip back to college. Unfortunately, when we finally got settled in for the night, the disco across the street started thumping. I thought that at least the bass was rhythmic and I could probably sleep through it... until an hour later some construction started - we're talking jackhammers and table saws. Note 2: a cultural difference - construction happens at night in Mexico City because the streets are too crowded during the day. To add additional insult, an hour later a band of mariachis showed up outside of the disco (probably hoping to get a few pesos from the tourists at the club). No joke. This actually happened. Needless to say, the ride home was not a very pleasant one.
Mostly, after backpacking to Mexico City, I learned that even in the hard times, the experience of traveling and learnng is well worth it! Europe is a bit more forgiving...
No comments:
Post a Comment