The story picks up from where Poza Rica and Papantla leave off

Mexico City and the museum and Arqueologica Zona of Tula, Teotihaucan, Cuicuilco, Tlaleloco and Temple Mayor

Ride on to Mexico City

We literally crawled over the mountain range to the flat plain that houses Mexico City. At first I thought the bus was overloaded, being filled to the brim with passengers, but when I could see the line of traffic we were behind a whole parade of vehicles behind a dump truck filled with dirt. At least I could get an intimate look at the scenery. Up close and personal. That is where I could see the coffee beans on the bushes growing under other trees. Every available space was used to grow something. Be it uphill or down hill and even extending into the ditch on the edge of the road. I was getting a first hand look at how resourceful the Mexican people are.

They come from a stock of forefathers going back thousands of years that built huge pyramids in ancient cites and worshipped nature and the forces of the Goddess. They are steadfast and proud and only strive for better living conditions and life like the rest of us. I should have known, now I was getting a first hand look at where and how they did it centuries before they made a run for the border, so to speak. I was amazed at the ingenuity that was displayed everywhere I turned.

Another example came when we stopped at the top of the mountain range for a lunch break. As soon as the driver got off the bus a whole horde of vendors boarded hawking there wares. Some had large plastic bags of baked bread shaped into large rolls. Others had tamales, candy, soda, sausages and who knows what else. It happened so fast, it seemed they were out of the bus in less than 5 minutes. I couldn’t buy anything, as the language barrier was too great. I had already stocked up on lunch supplies before I boarded the bus that morning. Mexico City was only about 5 or 6 hours away and I had prepared just fine. I had no idea this was the way it was done in Mexico. Most of the time the vendors stood outside the bus and when I was driving the rental car, the vendors stood at the “Topes” waiting for the cars to slow down.

We were on our way again after the driver had refreshed himself and (probably went and poked the dump truck driver in the nose), that is a joke, but I did see the dump truck having lunch too. The rest of the way was flat, dry and full of tumbleweeds and cactus until we started getting close to the city then the same landscape supported houses, apartments, poor housing projects with tarp roofs and badly thrown together shacks with bricks holding down corrugated tin roofing. All had re-bar sticking out though the roofs of brick walls, laundry on the line, fences holding in cats, dogs, rats, bats and kids. The streets were still dirt and on a rainy day it would have made the hardiest stay inside until it dried up again. All this was located between Teotihaucan turnoff into the city proper, about 50 miles. As we began to approach the inner part of the city the buildings turned into nicer two story structures. They had living quarters on top and the same roofs and laundry. Only this time there was a mish-mash of graffiti advertising written on the fronts of the buildings. That never seemed to end. If it is vertical, write something on it. No wonder the best railroad train car graffiti comes from Mexico. Mexico City is home to over 6 million people and they have to live somewhere. It took a couple of hours just to get to the Norte bus terminal. That means north. There is also a ‘Sur’, south station that handles all buses going that way. I thought I was beginning to get a handle on the bag thing when I was surprised again. I departed the bus and stood in the crowd waiting for the porter to unload the bags and collect the baggage tickets. I finally retrieved my two and found a porter with a dolly cart. Again I was taken in charge as he asked if I wanted a Taxi, I said yes, and he wheeled my bags and ushered me to the taxi ticket booth located in the middle of the terminal. That was a surprise. I was expecting to have to guard my belongings from thieves while trying to find a safe taxi. Another one of those horror stories again. I bought my ticket and he ushered me out of the terminal to a taxi waiting in line. These were licensed and bonded and controlled drivers by the city. I showed him my reservation for Hostel Moneda on the Zocalo and after giving him my ticket I was again whisked away at break neck speed across town. I was glad I had my first experience in a smaller town, as this one was not as spooky. It was also helpful that I had been in Mexico City on the tour two years ago, as I began to recognize familiar landmarks and knew when he was getting close to the hostel. There were so many people in the plaza that he had a hard time pushing through the crowd to drive down the side street two blocks to where the hostel entrance was. I was expecting a huge door with a large name over it. What I got was a tiny stone framed entrance with a tiny sign and tiny street numbers. When we did get to it, a man from the hotel appeared from inside and helped unload my bags. He was the doorman, but dressed so casual I would not have known him from any man in the street. At least the people behind the desk were easy to spot. I showed my reservation, paid for my room, got my towel, (skinny) was given a key and directions to the forth floor, (groan) and told where the rooftop café was located. I was on my own again dragging my two bags. Hold up, wait, what’s this??? An elevator? Holds one person and one bag, but it’s better than the stairs. After I maneuvered my things up to the top story I looked the place over. Not too bad, it had 4 beds, whose occupants varied from day to day during the 6 days I was there. Each bed had a locking cabinet to put the luggage in. I was to have six or seven changes of roommates. One girl was from New Zealand, and others from Germany, Austria and other European countries. All of the people were a gallery of seasoned world traveling students. There were so many I was really amazed that they just saved up their money and took off for the moon or in this case the world with Mexico on the list of countries to visit. Many were going to Guatemala and points south. There was a balcony porch across the hall from my room, which was used for evening conversation by the guests. I met the English dudes there when everyone gathered on the upstairs patio. One fellow, Marco, from Holland played with the band, ‘Pigs on a Mission’. Another was an author from New Zealand that was my age and the suave Argentinean hunk that oozed so much sensuous sex appeal I wished I had been forty years younger to give him a run for his money. I just kept silent and enjoyed his presence. By the time the week was up most of that bunch had gone their own way and I missed the conversation group. Each time I passed the porch it was empty, but echoed their voices and cheer long after they had departed. I too, was due to leave in a couple of days and I can tell you I really missed their company. More on the English dudes later as the story continues.

I ascended one more flight up to the rooftop café complete with a view of rooftops crowned by the Cathedral church on the Zocalo (plaza).

They had the best breakfast I found in Mexico that came with the cost of the room. They served it on the roof top patio over looking the buildings of Mexico City. You couldn’t really see a whole lot but I did take pictures of what I did see. Great airy atmosphere under the patio roof with the community family style tables and chairs. By the end of the week the weather turned the air into a sharp cold north wind. They rolled down the plastic shades and all of us bundled in woolens to eat breakfast. They served fruit, cereal, yogurt, bread, jam and pancakes with butter and syrup. It sure was superb for one who was starved from the day before. I was able to leave for my daily trips full and ready to go. Any meals after that you had to buy. I went down stairs and found the Internet room next to the front desk. You had to sit and wait in line, but it was never for long. They also had posters advertising guided tours of the local sites. The Museum and Teotihaucan were of interest to me. I took both tours, but found once again, I could do better on my own and indeed, I did go back again by myself after I found out how and where to go and what transportation to use. The staff was very helpful and everyone spoke English, some better than others, but they were students too, learning a second language. The English I encountered was always formal, not American grade, but straight out of textbooks. Better than I was doing with my second language. Now, that is a joke, for sure; I don’t have a second language. The other tour they offered was to Temple Mayor, but I knew where that was, just around the corner of the plaza between the hostel and the Church. I knew that because I slathered over the fence looking into the site two years ago and wasn’t allowed the time to go into the museum or see the structures they uncovered. Now was my time, which I had arranged on purpose to be in close walking distance of the hostel. I was glad I had prior knowledge of the area so I could be a little more familiar with where I was in the city and where I wanted to go. I did get a great lesson on riding the metro subway. Later I will tell you more on how I got the basic knowledge gleaned from the wild three hours lost on the metro and how, after that, I was able to travel it the rest of the week like a seasoned traveler later in the story.

Mexico City and the museum

I went to the Archaeological museum yesterday. That was my first adventure in Mexico City. The tour guide from the hostel took us by the subway (called the metro) and then by bus to the museum. The metro cost 20 cents and the bus 10 cents. What a hoot. When he was done giving us a couple hours tour I stayed and finished looking at what he didn’t show us. I viewed everything I could on the first floor. The exhibits were wonderful. Someone told me that if I took pictures with a flash they would take my camera away. I didn’t realize I could use the video camera. I didn’t get any pictures but I found they had a wonderful restaurant there. I was expecting a hole in the wall, but it was a beautiful place serving a 9 course buffet lunch. It had 8 main dishes, loads of salad makings and fancy deserts. I had a pork chop in a red sauce that was not spicy, cauliflower in cream sauce, noodles with ham slivers in cheese sauce, salad and followed it with a fancy Jell-o desert, flan and some sort of fruit mousse. They also had some peeled fruit, I tried one but it turned out to be a cactus apple full of seeds. It didn't have any taste at all. I thanked the restaurant owner and found he spoke perfect English. I was so stuffed I could barely waddle out to see the rest of the museum. By the time it was five I started back to the hotel the way we came. I boarded the bus to the Hidalgo St. stop and crossed the street to take the stairs down to get the metro. I bought my ticket and got on the subway. I realized in about four stops it wasn't the way we came. I was on the wrong line. I asked a Mexican lady where the Zocalo (big plaza) was and she didn’t know. I said 'church? Cathedral? She said, 'Ah, Basilica' and I said yes. Another lady stepped in and said she would show me. She took me trough a bunch of halls and finally up the stairs to the outside sidewalks. She pointed to the steeples of the church and said ‘there’. I thanked her and started toward it. It was not the right church. She took me to the Basilica, but it was the Basilica of our lady of Guadalupe. By then it was dark and I knew I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I tried not to panic, as I promised myself I was not going to be out on the streets after dark. I turned around and backtracked the way I came to the metro and tried to make my way back. When I was on the metro I kept crossing back and forth from stop to stop looking for the cross connection. After 47 inquiries and 47 different answers I finally began to figure out how the system worked. When I finally hit on the right station stop I was able to follow the arrows to the cross-connecting line and continue south again to where I started in the first place. By that time, I could figure out how to get on the blue line and in four stops I was at the place we where we started in the morning. I went up the steps and there I was, right in the Zacalo where the hotel was located. By that time I had spent 3 hours lost on the metro. I did what I was not going to do, which was not to be out after dark on the streets. I slowed my panic as I thought my heart would burst. The streets were crowded but I walked to the hotel without incident and called it a night.

My blood pressure was out of the top of my head, but the experience left me with some valuable knowledge on how to ride the metro line. More later, as it is the next a.m. and I have to get some breakfast. It comes with the room and is served in the rooftop cafe. They serve pancakes, cereal, yogurt, fresh-fruit, tea and juice. Just right to start off a long day at the digs.

Temple Major

Today I visited Temple Mayor. It is the first site of the Aztec empire. When the Spanish conquered The Aztec Empire, they destroyed much of the city and built on top of it to establish Mexico City. In the process of digging for pipelines in 1965 they discovered the temple and have been excavating it for years. Part of the Temple site runs under the Cathedral and has been partly excavated. I am sure the church isn’t going to give it up for the sake of ancient history. The part of the Temple that shows is only the top couple of layers. The museum they built behind the temple grounds shows in the pictures I took, is one of the most beautiful and well presented I have ever seen. They have the finds that came out of the temple displayed in a series of 8 large display rooms. I took my time and looked at everything they had. When I was done I wandered through the plaza between the hotel and the Cathedral and found the Aztecan dancers and shamans. I bought a couple of T-shirts and found a map of the Yucatan, in Spanish, of course. I found the Ice Cream wagon and a taco of sorts that was fairly tasty. Looked at all the vendor carts and watched the people in the crowd. I made my way across the Zacalo to the money exchange on the other side of the plaza. They had a protest going on with people sitting under tarps holding up signs. This was one of the times when I found it convenient not to understand the language. I had seen the cathedral and the Governors palace two years ago that has the wonderful painted murals of Diego Rivera.

It was warn and nothing else interested me so I decided to go back to the hostel. When I turned the corner to the hostel someone whistled and all the vendors grabbed their stuff they had displayed by the corners of blue tarps and ran to the nearest doorway to hide. From what I learned these vendors don't have a permit to sell their goods and they post a look out at the end of the street. When the Federalizes come, he whistles and they all run. The Government has been trying to outlaw them for years, but they all belong to some sort of mafia group that is real strong. Most of the goods is illegal stuff brought in from China and Taiwan and is cheap and junky. Apparently they stand up and fight as a group or protest with such a vengeance that it has been almost impossible to get rid of them. In any case, if you walk the street and then come back the same way there will be different vendors there. It is like same street, different vendors and selections every hour. The rest of the vendors in the plaza have permits and carry on theirs business as normal. On the way back to the hostel I saw a wonderful display of shoes with grass growing out of them. It was an exhibit at a museum and from what I could learn it has to do with rebirth after death.

Tomorrow I go to Teotihaucan on the hostel tour so I am going to turn in early. All that street noise sure can get to one who lives in a quiet environment. It never stops and comes in waves of grating sounds to the ears.

Our Lady of Guadalupe and the artesians:

Before the hostel tour went to Teotihaucan, we stopped at the church of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

I was here on my last trip and had an intense spiritual vision experience from Our Lady. This year she didn't have anything to say to me although I did feel her presence. We climbed the steps to get to the top of the hill where she made her appearance to Juan Diego in the 1500's. The view is outstanding of Mexico City even though the smog had started to cover the city. I went to the shrine and looked at the murals on the walls that show the life of Juan Diego. They were having mass so I went back down by the garden side. Pictures show how beautiful the gardens are even though the area only covers one side of the hill. Going down was a lot easier as the altitude here makes it hard for me to breathe when I have to climb many stairs. From there it took an hour to get to Teotihaucan. We stopped at an artist shop and were shown how they make products out of the cactus. Some of you have the video from two years ago. That was filmed at another shop. They showed us how they take the raw obsidian stone and make the carved figures and masks that are everywhere for sale. Some are inlaid with other stone materials and some are plain made from the shiny obsidian that has either gold or silver color embedded in the stone.

The workshop was a dusty place and the workmen had to wear masks to keep from breathing in the heavy dust. Some men cut the rough shape of the object; while others carved the details then it went down the line where others inlaid the designs with semi precious stones, then finally to the polishers. It sure looked grueling and like a sweatshop. The shop had some beautiful things in it, but the prices were too high. We received a shot of pulque and a shot of tequila. While we had our lunch the hostel supplied, we sat in the parking lot. We had a sandwich of ham and wonderful white cheese that I took for goat's cheese. The bun was soft and tasty. We had a coke and some fruit. The dog in the picture is one of the Mayan dog breeds that are almost extinct. They are hairless and they sweat. They feel like sticky leather. The dog didn't want to stand still and was looking to pee on the bag sitting on the ground.

Teotihaucan:

After we were done with lunch at the Artesian shop we went across the road to the pyramid site. We started at the Temple of the Moon. To the left side are a couple of complexes they have excavated. One is the temple of the jaguars and one the butterfly temple. Called that because of the frescos painted on the walls. They have done a lot of restoration and actually put the room’s back together stone by stone. Some of the lower room levels were filled in and built on top of. Tunneling inside and hauling out the filled rocks was the way the excavation was done. When they were finished they found many rooms with painted murals preserved since 600 ad. We couldn’t take pictures of the colored murals, of course. We moved from there on the Avenue of the Dead. The Temple of the Moon was closed as they had just made a recent discovery of a cache of burials and masks. I bypassed the Temple of the Sun, as I had already climbed on my first trip in 2002. I walked down to the museum and looked at all they had. They had a wonderful scale model of the site that had a glass floor over the top of it. You could walk over the model and see it all. All the buildings were originally covered with a layer of three-inch thick mortar plaster. So the site you see today is the restored part without the plaster mortar covering. It was also painted red. Traces of red color can be found on some of the excavated walls. Over the red painted wall the murals were painted in other colors. All the buildings had a drainage system for taking out wastewater and cisterns for holding stored rainwater, similar to the Roman culture Even the plaza had drain holes to take off the rainwater so it wouldn't build up inside the four walls.

Since I had already climbed the temple of the sun a couple of years ago, I by passed that and walked down to the temple of Quetzequtel. By that time it was time for the tour van from the hotel to take us back so I didn't get to see that. Stand by, I will go back and see the rest of Teotihaucan in a couple of days.

Cuicuilco:

This morning I went on the metro (subway) to the end of the line at the University and caught a microbus and took it to the Cuicuiculo plaza. From there I walked to the site of an ancient pyramid that pre-dates Teotihaucan. It was in its peak of activity when a volcano blew and covered the whole city with lava. They found the site in the early 1900's and excavated enough to find the pyramid is round. It also had a Kva and other underground altars and ceremony places. I sort of reminded me of the southwest American Indian sites in southern New Mexico and Ariz. I am sure the cultures traveled that far to have an influence and/or spread their spiritual beliefs and religion on the way between the two areas. The urban area of Mexico City has spread around the site like a modern day lava flow and now it remains just a speck of history dotting the landscape. They had a small museum with some interesting things. It just seemed so much more ancient that any other place and more northern in style. I walked back down the street and managed to catch the bus coming up the street back to the metro line and saved me the whole walk the down the hill to the bus stop. Besides the University in the area, there are many medical buildings and the area also housed the place where they held the Olympic games. It is still called Olympic Village, but now it is used for the University and to hold conferences. After the return ride to the Zacalo on the metro, which now took only a fraction of time since I got lost several days ago. Amazing how one experience can sharpen a person’s wits to keep from making the same mistake twice.

The English dudes and the Bullfight:

When I returned to the hostel I ran across the charming English Dudes and was invited by them to go the bullfights that afternoon. They were a hoot and I really enjoyed their company. One was Paul and the other one Lee. Another couple Kay and her boyfriend, also from England were with us. This is something I would not be able to do by myself so I jumped at the chance. We took the metro and then walked forever before we finally got a bus to take us the rest of the way. (Man, I am going to have a great set of legs when I get done tromping around Mexico.) Anyway, they were really nice, took me under their wing and made sure I was ok and didn’t lag behind and watched out for me. When we got to the bullfight ring there was a whole row of food stands. One was really wafting great smelling fajitas. We all had one. Meat and onions grilled hot and steamy. Also grilled bulb onions on the side with the green stems still on. It was super. The Bullfight cost 13.00 for seats in the middle. When we entered the arena area from street level the ring was recessed further down in the ground. We had really good seats. There were four different sets of fights. Between 4 and 6 pm they managed to kill four bulls. After the first two fights the others were same song, second verse. We were rooting for the bull, but he lost. I really don't get the blood and gore of the bull sacrifice, but I know it is an engrained culture 'thang'. Even as macho as the matadors were, a couple of them managed to get whacked by the bull and went flying in the air. We all cheered, but the crowd didn't. When the bull first entered the ring he chased the three or four junior matadors with pink capes around. Soon the two horse backed lancer men came out riding horses that were very heavily padded to keep the horses from being gored by the bull. They lanced the bull with a long pole with a spear on the end. When they were done with that they left and the three men with a pair of small spears each came into the ring. They ran toward the bull and speared the bull, lodging the spears in his shoulder. When all three had pierced the bull, they left and the matador came in the ring to finish the dance of death. When he received enough 'Olay’s' he stabbed the bull with his sword and waited for the bull to finally fall to his knees and die. If the crowd thought the matador did a good job they waved white hankies in the air. When that happened another set of men came in and finished cutting the bull’s jugular and make sure he was dead. Then they put a chain around the bulls neck, propped his head on a two wheel cart and brought in a pair of horses, hooked the cart with the chain to the bar the horses were hooked to and drug him off the field. They then raked the arena and started all over again. After two or three times it all looked the same and I had had enough. The English dudes didn't get the point either, so we left leaving the crowd to ‘Olay’ themselves into the night. It was a once in a lifetime experience. One I am not interested in doing again. Been there, done that, don't need to do it again.

The English dudes were pretty interesting and I spent several times sitting and talking to them on the patio. They have some pretty funny terms for things. Kay, the other gal got cold and said she was going to put her 'jumper’ on. That was her jacket. She also said her 'bum' was tired of sitting on the cement seats. That was her butt. We compared odd phrases. I told them the American version and they told me how it is in England. One guy wanted to know what a Twinkie was. There were others, but I can't remember them all now. Some of the other people staying here at the hostel were from Holland, New Zealand, Ireland, Australia, Germany, Argentina and France. One of the guys from Holland was named Marco and played bass in a rock and roll band called 'Pigs on a Mission'. They mostly have gone on their way traveling to other places in Mexico and Guatemala. I can't really comprehend the amount of traveling the youth of today actually do. But they are out there, going from place to place just like they are traveling across town. One mother (my age) and her daughter from Holland are traveling around the world together. They were delightful to talk to. It was a real kick to be called 'love' by an English person. But this is the life and atmosphere of the world of Hostels that are located around every country in the world. I thought I would meet up with some of them again as I made my way around Mexico, but I never did.

Second time to Teotihaucan:

I started off this a.m. to go to Tula. I took the metro subway to the exit for the Norte bus station. I bought my ticket and sat down to wait for the bus. A Mexican lady sat down next to me. She saw I was reading some info I had on Tula. She started to talk to me in Spanish. I couldn't understand, but she persisted until she could get across to me that the site wasn't open on Monday. When I finally understood, I thanked her and hurried into the bus station to get it exchanged. It took a few more minutes of trying to communicate 'the exchange with the lady that sold the ticket to me what I wanted. When she finally realized what I wanted, she sold my ticket to another man and refunded my money. All this happened with just a few minutes before the bus left. So, there I was, standing in the middle of the bus station, not wanting to waste the day and the trip on the metro, I decided to go back to Teotihaucan to see what I didn't get to see on Sat. With my returned fare I turned back to the ticket window and purchased one for the bus to Teotihaucan and managed to get on that bus with just a few minutes to spare. On the way we were detoured by the police and had to take the side roads because there was a workers strike and protest on the main highway. We could see a huge crowd of people gathered on the road and the traffic was shut down on the freeway for miles. All the busses and cars going both ways had to use the narrow small town streets to get around the mess. It took an extra half an hour but finally made it to the site.

I retraced my steps to the Quetzaquetal pyramid only to find it was under restoration. When I was done with the pictures there I retraced my way up the Avenue of the Dead and found some apartments on the left side. I crossed the wall with the drainage ditch I made my way down the main road outside of the pyramids to the small village apartment complexes they recently excavated. The remaining pictures are of that area. As I was walking to the last apartment complex I met a woman and her daughter on the road. I asked if she was American. She told me yes. I asked her how it was she was in Mexico. She told me she was an Archaeologist and was married to the head director of Teotihaucan for the past 25 years. When I asked how interesting her job must be, she told me it was until she earned her doctoral degree and then it just became work. She never mentioned the latest find at the Temple of the Moon and the great discovery of bones and jade masks they found. They left me at the entrance of the last complex and I explored it by myself and took pictures.

Two of the computers broke down at the hotel so I may not get the pictures I took today uploaded. I am getting to be quite a wiz at traveling the metro and city buses. I am ready to leave Mexico City. A week is enough.

Tlatelolco and back to the museum:

This site I saw Tues the 16th. It is called Tlatelolco. It is located in the north part of Mexico City. I took the metro once again and only had to walk a few blocks to get to the site. It is located on a plaza called ‘the plaza of the three cultures’. Indigenous Indian, Aztec and Spanish. As the one on the south side of town, just a portion of the site was excavated as the city has swallowed up most of it. It was well preserved and the grounds were well kept. The site was very ancient and the construction reflected that fact. After spending an hour or so, I returned to the main Archaeological museum to see the upstairs part. It is very beautifully presented. The upstairs showed a chronology of human cultures from the very beginning of time and they traced life to the modern time. It was very informative and had lots of displays showing the different cultures and the people who would have lived at that time. Of course I had to have lunch again at the buffet luncheon and stuffed myself beyond movement once again. It was glorious. I spent some time finishing off the displays on the first level including a special exhibit of the jade masks from Calakmul. When I thought I could not ogle another vase, statue or anything else I went to the museum gift shop and bought some books. Oh, my suitcases are going to get even heavier.

Tula:

Tula is located about 40 miles to the north of Mexico City. Site was very nice, but it was stuck out in the middle of the God forsaken desert. What were the ancients thinking anyway? After I got off the bus in Tula I asked for a taxi to take me to the Tula site. It was just a little way out of the small bustling town of Tula located on the main highway going into Mexico City. I went to the museum part first and looked at the displays. There were not many but they were interesting. No pictures of course. I spent two or three hours and as it was hot I didn't wear my vest. I got some sunburn. I walked all over the place. I climbed the pyramid with the Atlantes standing on it and was awed by their huge size and detailed carving. The site was under construction and many repairs were being made to that pyramid. There were several other parts that were still not well explored or had as yet to have work done to the mounds. I surveyed the whole place from the top then climbed down to get a look at the ball court. The area was marked off so you could see the perimeter and the inner ball field. On the way back down the dusty trail I stopped at a couple of vendor booths and bought a couple of obsidian pieces. Small, as the trip was just beginning. I caught a taxi back to town that was waiting at the entrance to the site and managed to board the bus back to Mexico City without any problem. I even found a good ham and cheese sandwich in the bus station café.

The flag Ceremony and the ride to Jalapa:

When I returned to Mexico City from Tula I came out of the metro stairs just in time to see the lowering of the flag ceremony they do each morning and evening. This got me all choked up as it was done so well and with such precision. There were some dignitaries that came out of the Governors Palace and stood with their hands over their hearts while the flag passed by them carried by the honor guard. When it was over I approached one of the men and expressed how beautiful I thought the ceremony was. He actually thanked me in English.

One of the days we had ridden back to Mexico City, we were going down one of the city streets I spotted what I thought was a fancy desert shop. I earmarked the corner to remember where it was located. I took the advantage of my last day in Mexico City to walk up the street (about 10 blocks) to find it. When I turned the corner I could see cakes and dishes of food in the window. I went inside only to find it was a buffet café and not a fancy desert shop. I looked over the food and it all looked pretty delicious, so I stayed and had dinner. It was almost as good as the restaurant at the museum. Everything I tasted was well prepared. I noticed a matronly lady walking around the room. I stopped her and asked if she was the owner. She understood and said yes. I complemented her on her lovely café and the wonderful food. I was stuffed and left the café to walk back to the hostel in the early evening. Even though it was turning dark I had relaxed fairly well and walked through the crowded sidewalk without any panic. I stopped and looked in some stores. Some had displays of nativity scenes and statues of the saints, Our Lady and other religious figures. I bought some small metal icons for my friend Linda.

As I crossed the Zacalo they were preparing for a concert there that night. They had been erecting the stage all day. I found out it was a famous Latin star from South America. I could see the young teen girls had already begun to gather in the plaza. In fact, the whole thing was full of people. I skirted around them and went to the hostel. I thought I was going to get a chance to retire early as I was to leave the next a.m. Not even, in a heart- beat. The concert went on to 4 a.m. and even a block away in my room it sounded like I was in the front row. Wave after wave of undulating music went on and on, and on. Then more musicians added into the jubilation and began to perform right outside the hostel on the street. They competed for noise space until about six a.m.

WoW! Drag me through a knothole. Not one bit of sleep. No wonder I was pooped. I had to party in my semi state of sleep whether I liked it or not.

The story continues in the next section titled ‘Jalapa’. Pictures are posted on the webshots.com albums. To access it click on the Mexican hat on the first page of the web site.