Pilgrims in a very Holy Land
Awakening from my American “the world revolves around my country” psyche, I realized that, in many respects, it was a true statement. I looked around what had come to be our standard evening eating establishment, to see everyone in the Bertico Cafe, all waitresses, all cooks from the kitchen, and all customers, including several people over the age of 70, staring half slack-jawed, half smiling and laughing amusedly, at the many T.V. screens in this small nook of downtown Mexico City. Lady Gaga and Beyonce were gyrating their money makers in a music video of some sort. At certain intervals, they could be seen driving a very, let’s just say “pimped out,” pickup truck with a title on the tailgate that read “Pussy Wagon.” For about thirty seconds, Meredith and I both were participants in this exhibition of excess, with that glassy-eyed, shit-kicker stare, that we produce from students on a daily basis. We both snapped out of our slumber simultaneously and looked around to see a small part of downtown Mexico City half reveling, half watching in fear, as two of our American spokespersons showed what the United States is best known for.
If you’re lucky, surreal moments occur at least once while touring a foreign area. Those out-of-body, step back from yourself, what-the-hell, cocoon emerging, bleary-eyed, moments of awakening to something very new to your senses, make any hassle within the traveling, worth the while. Often those moments are quite mundane, when observed from a distance. But in the middle of the happenings, you wonder if space and time have ceased to be.
As our plane banked east, Meredith and I were finally able to look out across the Valley of Mexico, once a large body of water called Lake Texcoco. It was hard to imagine the Aztecs coming into the Valley in 1325, seeing a small island in the lake, and then deciding to base their civilization on that island. The thought was made even more out of place as we noticed a Home Depot come into view on final approach to Benito Juarez International Airport.
American Airlines Flight 433 rolled to the jetway and we disembarked, headed for customs and immigration. A short walk later found us behind one person in line for immigration (by far the shortest immigration line we’ve ever seen, in any country). Three minutes later we were behind the same number of people in line for customs.
Customs usually requires a mild search of all bags, depending on how much energy the officers have or depending on how lucky you are. Mexico leaves the it all to luck. After a perfunctory metal detector ride for your bags, the officer says, “Press this button,” and points to a panel with a single button, not unlike a nuclear launch device. Above it is a light. When you press the button, the light either shows red, or green, or maybe a small South American country just got a can of whoop-ass opened on it. If red, you’re pulled aside and all bags are searched. If green, you proceed without searching of bags.
We’ve both wondered if the person manning the button has the ability to make the light be what he or she wants it to be. It would be hard to imagine them caring about what two fifteen year old gringos were bringing into the country.
So, we pressed our button and, thankfully, green it was. Breathing a sigh, we proceeded into the terminal proper.
Deciding against a taxi or hotel shuttle (I mean really? Why take all the fun out of this?), we started looking for the Subway station that I knew was within walking distance of the terminal. Without too much searching, we found the station. I thought we boarded at the station called Boulevard Puerto Aereo. (Makes sense doesn’t it?) Unfortunately, there are two subway stations at the airport. Instead we boarded at the station called Terminal Aerea, which also makes alot of sense.
Either way, the name Zocalo remains, and now represents the huge square (second largest in the world behind Red Square in Moscow) fronted on the north by the Catedral Metropolitano and the east by the Palacio Nacional.
Imagine four lanes of traffic ringing ten acres of concrete, given over to the public, to be used in, well, just about any fashion you can dream. In a span of fifteen minutes, we walked by tents housing artists flaunting their wares, painters using the Zocalo as their own canvas, the electrical workers union protesting.....something, several hundred Aztec dancers taking up an area the size of a football field, an art student dressed like Skeletor, from the He-Man series, to raise money for schooling. I’ve never been so horrified and charmed at the same time.
Up the next morning, we headed for a tour of the Cathedral, but were up earlier than it was to open. So we moved 200 yards to the northwest to visit the Templo Mayor.
We perused the grounds of the former temple and then moved on to objects in the four story museum.
Because of this, Meredith and I find it difficult to really enjoy the Central and South American cultures. Interesting, they are, but enjoying them is another matter.
When thinking of the National Palace, think a combination of the White House and the Capitol building and you have the general idea. After the prerequisite metal detector and patdown, we entered the building.
When we entered the Palace, we were confronted by a gigantic mural of his, spanning the history of Mexico, from pre-Conquest to the 1930s. The sheer scale, coupled with the detail of each character was mind blowing. Anybody who was anybody in Mexican history was there to see, in good or bad terms, depending on how Diego felt about them. And this was only one of his works in the Palacio. During our visit we would see no fewer than four more of his works, though none were as grand in scale as this.
By far the strangest sight we were to see (and that’s saying ALOT for this trip) came when we entered the room called Mauseleo de Heroes (Mauseleum of Heroes). I’ll cut to the chase. It was glass case after glass case containing the mortal remains of the revered patriarchs of Mexico. Imagine going into the Capitol in Washington D.C. to see the bones of Washington himself. And, of course, no photos allowed.
After that, we needed something distinctly American and to clear our palate. So we went to the 7-Eleven and ate a hot dog.
Still needing to clear our mental palate, we walked west from the Zocalo along Calle Tacuba towards Alemada Central, one of Mexico City’s big parks.
And I’m glad we did. It’s not every day you get to see a person, looking every bit the part of a Native American Chong, from Cheech and Chong, with a sign declaring, “If someone has given you the evil eye, I can help get rid of it.” Unfortunately (or fortunately), to our knowledge, neither of us had been given the ocular equivalent of the middle finger, lately. So we didn’t have a need to procure his services.
Afterwards, we strolled through throngs of people in Alemeda Central, a large park full of vendors and revelers, it being Sunday in the city.
It seemed we could’ve purchased anything our minds could’ve desired. Street performers intermingled with sightseers. At one point we came upon a crowd being entertained by a clown. Even without understanding, it was easy to follow the show.
The painting is an eclectic mix of most of the historical figures in Mexico’s history, from Cortes, to Winfield Scott, to Rivera himself. When looking at it, you get a sense that you could dwell upon it for hours and still not see all there is to see.
We sat for a while and then decided to head back to our hotel. It had been a long first full day.