Mexico DF

CHAPTER 4

Mexico City DF (Federal District) is notorious for kidnappings, murders and muggings. And this image is not lightened by the reputation of the powerful and almighty police force that seems to be more of a breeding ground for corruption and thievery itself, than a safe refugee for the countless number of victims. It is a bustling metropolis with 19 million inhabitants, whom have all adapted to life in the dangerous city: always watching their back.

Because of the negative rap Mexico City has, we had originally deemed it too dangerous to visit and were going to skirt around it as we drove from Taxco to Puebla. However, as we traveled closer, our curiosity about the city was heightened and we began asking locals for their opinion on the current safety of the metropolis. In return we received a wide spectrum of responses, some very conservative, explicitly warning us to evade the city, but the majority just warned us to go with caution. Having visited other large cities in Latin America we felt prepared to face the possible dangers of the city, in exchange for a peek into the life of the third most populated city in the world, just after New York and Tokyo.  With the doors locked and Dave behind the wheel we nervously followed the road signs leading to Mexico, as the locals simply refer to their capital. The traffic started to pick up and the drivers grew increasingly aggressive as we inched closer to the downtown center, further confirming we were temporarily trading in the small town slow pace of life we had gotten used to, for the constant stimulation and energy of the big city. As Dave held his own in the hectic traffic I reveled in my position as the passenger and inquisitively examined all that was happening just beyond the metal of the truck. Swarms of people were crossing at each crosswalk, and a few brave stragglers completely disregarded the appointed crosswalks and crossed wherever they felt the need. The market was full of life with vendors selling both food and crafts. Street performers used every red light to their advantage to show off their circus like talents to the captive audience of drivers and passengers alike, with the understanding that before the light turned green the drivers would give some sort of compensation for the show. A cacophony of police whistles could be heard directing the thousands of other vehicles in transit to and from one place or another.  The city appeared modern, vast, and exhilarating.  We were restless and ready to get out of the truck and become part of the action.

The city felt different on foot, not as scary. As we strolled the large pedestrian only boulevards we were pleasantly surprised to discover that not only was it clean, but it was also overflowing with brilliant architecture, warm friendly people, and rich with culture. After many sidetracks we made our way to the open-air market where we browsed the crafts, while snacking on a cob of corn that was rubbed with lime juice and dusted with chili powder. We first tried this delicious snack in Taxco, and immediately became addicted. It is called elote and seems to be a local favorite as well.  The elote woke up our appetites and our bellies roared with hunger, forcing us to walk away from the market before we were suckered into buying one of the many “locally made” trinkets. We settled into a fast food type restaurant where the meat was churning and cooking slowly on the spit at the entrance.  We blissfully sat down at a small round table on the street. First things first- we ordered two draft beers that we gulped down while halfway perusing the menu. The menu did not need much looking over, we already had our minds set for the meat on the spit, al pastor, from the moment we sat down. The jolly middle-aged man took our order with a smile and immediately returned with a bowl of pickled carrots, cauliflower, and jalapenos. The time passed quickly and before I knew it two giant al pastor sandwiches were being placed before us. They were delicious and filling. Enjoying the atmosphere we shared another round of the cold draft beers before changing locations. The city felt alive, the energy from the Saturday night was palpable. Still feeling slightly apprehensive about our safety we only ventured down a few restaurants from our dinner spot before entering a loud and crowded bar. The live music made conversation nearly impossible, so instead we sat back and let the energy fill our souls.

The following morning we awoke eager to see the architecture and learn more about the city. The history of Mexico City began when a nomadic tribe received a vision of an eagle eating a snake perched on a prickly pear cactus in 1323. The Mexicas, later to be known as the Aztecs, were led to build their home on a small swampy island in the middle of Lake Texcoco, where they founded the town of Tenochtitlan in 1325. By 1521 the Aztecs had created a vast empire, but one that was quickly toppled by the Spanish upon their arrival. Contrary to what we learn in history class Cortes didn’t just waltz in with his 600 men and destroy the Aztecs, he had the help of tens of thousands of native allies. The Spanish razed the town and built their new city directly on top. Because it was originally built on a lake, flooding was a consistent problem, and eventually led to the draining of the entire lake by the Spanish in the 17th century. The lake bed is now entirely covered by the city, and they are faced with a new problem: many of the large buildings are slowly sinking into the soft silty soil.

We admired the sinking Metropolitan Cathedral in astonishment; wasted an hour waiting in line for one of the cities few free bike rentals, to no prevail, they ran out of bikes at the person in front of us; we toured Templo Mayor, which was free since it was Sunday; and we shared a meat and cheese plate, that was really just four pieces of salami and three different types of white cheese all only varying slightly in taste, accompanied by four petite slices of bread. Lunch wasn’t as satisfying as we had hoped, so we indulged and treated ourselves to ice cream cones. The ice cream not only filled the empty space in our stomachs, but it also satisfied my almost insatiable sweet tooth. With our ice-cream cones in hand we walked on board the red double decker tour bus, and climbed the spiral staircase leading to the upper deck and happily sat down at the back. We rode for a while, before jumping off at the park where we rented a paddle boat and joined the locals on the lake. As dusk approached we exited the park and secured a seat back on the red tour bus and rode it all the way to our hotel. We decided on the same al pastor restaurant for dinner as the night before, only this time devouring two sandwiches each and twice the amount of beer. It was a perfect ending to a perfect day.

Our brief, but exhilarating trip into the city had come to an end. With mixed emotions about leaving, we rescued the truck from the secured parking garage it had been sitting in, and navigated our way out of town. We were both proud and excited that we had successfully toured Mexico DF. We were rejoicing in our accomplishment when out of nowhere we were being pulled over by a schmuck of a cop in search of a bribe. No his sirens were not on, instead he was shouting through a megaphone commanding us to pull off at the next exit. He sped in front of us and guided us off the road, where we parked and rolled down our windows to hear all that he had to say. His ploy for a bribe was a dead giveaway, he was inconsistent in describing our violation and fine, and full of excuses as to why he could not simply issue the ticket on the spot.  Feeling rather savvy we agreed to comply with all of his outlandish demands – knowing full well that eventually he would let us go without forking over the unnecessary cash. His schpeal went on for a good twenty minutes before freeing us to continue our journey with safety and farewell wishes- and all of our pesos in our pockets.

Mexico DF: O

Dave and Kacey: 1

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