March 16, 2011

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“No, we only have 200 pesos,” Meredith said in Spanish as she stood up to leave, and, me understanding from her motions what she was saying, I stood up also.

The older gentlemen gave a pained look that seemed to say, “Shit, I thought I could bluff that little gringa better than this.”

He and Meredith did the haggle doe-see-doe for a few more seconds. She then turned to me and explained we would get a 90 minute tour for the prescribed 200 pesos.

“Well, that’s good, cause that’s all the cash we have left,” I said as I sat back down.

We were south of the City proper, in a suburb called Xochimilco (Sho-she-mil-ko). Our objective for the day was to get an idea of what the city must have been like before the Spanish arrived and the great lake in the Valley of Mexico was drained.

In several areas of the Valley, there are still canals and boats are used as transportation between artificial islands. Xochimilco is one of these places.

Our guidebook, once again, was excellent and had explained to us that the Metro didn’t go all the way out to the suburb, but we could take a line to its terminus and then transfer to a light rail train that would take us to the center of the town.

We followed the guidebook, practically word for word, and it didn’t disappoint. Everything was exactly as it said and, a little less than an hour, we were in Xochimilco looking for the place to see these aquatic artifacts from Pre-Hispanic times.

Immediately after exiting the light rail station an older gentlemen pedaled up to us on a bicycle and pointed along the street we were walking. He knew what we were looking for and we knew he knew what we were looking for. To say people could read our intentions was an understatement.

After a ten minute walk, the nice gentlemen lead us down a side street to the docks where we could embark on our journey. What seemed like hundreds of boats were docked and repairs were underway, from just painting to a complete overhaul. Weekdays, we would discover, are for repairs. Weekends are when the real fun happends

After the aforementioned song and dance over the price, the nice man found us a boat that was still usable, and a captain that would provide our forward progress with a long pole.

I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. We, in America, have no style. The world is colorful place, and in Mexico, if the world isn’t colorful enough, a bit of paint can always be added to spice things up just a bit.

Every boat was painted in such an audacious manner in that it would make Liberace blush. And to be honest, it becomes very appealing. We could use a bit of that style here at home!

Our guide poled us out into the main canal and we had a leisurely float, sometimes looking at peoples back yard’s, sometimes looking at greenhouses with many hundreds of plants, many of which we’d never seen before.

We floated and enjoyed the morning.

After about an hour, we returned to the docks and headed back north, to the city center.

It was still early afternoon when we arrived at our hotel. We had planned in advance to eat at the restaurant at hotel, even going so far as to bring dress clothes! This early afternoon arrival would provide the perfect opportunity for that.

We dressed and took the elevator to the top floor.

The restaurant is situated so that one side faces the Zocalo and we coincidentally arrived at the same time the huge Electrical Workers Union began its march through downtown. We walked onto the balcony and got a bird’s eye view of the crowd.

The Union made a couple of laps around the square and then departed down a side street, chanting in unison and carrying signs that said things like Calderon roba y asecina (Calderon robs and murders).

Apparently, things like that aren’t everyday occurrences. I looked up to see several of the staff of the restaurant staring at the crowd too.

We sat down, had a great meal and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon.

Day Five