July 29 - One More Museum

Our last full day in Mexico City.

What did I notice?

We made our way to Chapultepec Castle for one last museum tour.  A long, tree-lined pathway took us to the entrance of the Castle.  A trolley passed us, full of tourists on their way up.  Reaching the top of the hill we entered the gates of the castle. Circling around the castle is a patio with views of the city below, tainted only by the smog that fogged over the buildings.  Standing on the checkered tiles of the patio, we looked out to see the monument of soldiers marking the entrance of Chapultepec Park, the beginning of the Avenue Reforma.  This road shoots straight through the city, making a clear pathway to the historical center.

We wondered from ornate room to room, observing the lifestyles of the historic Maximiliano and Porfirio.  After 30 days of museums, I had a little trouble absorbing some of the details, but still enjoyed imaging the lives of these dynamic rulers and their wives.

A view of Reforma 

Surrounding the Castle

A portion of a mural inside the Castle

From the castle, we made our way to our farewell lunch.  As usual, we were fed an incredible meal of sopa de lima, chile relleno, pescado, and a fruit salad.  This time our meal began an afternoon of sharing our appreciation of the people we've met and the experiences we've had.  It's comforting to hear how all of us will go back to our classrooms and implement what we have learned.  In addition, we shared how our general understandings of Mexico have changed.

July 28 - All in a Day

I was trying to come up with a theme to encompass our day: a boat ride through the causeways of Xochimilco on a traditional trajinera (boat), visiting Dolores Olmedo's museum (jackpot of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera art), visiting Frida Kahlo's Casa Azul (Yes, blue house), and taking salsa dance lessons.  In the end, it was a day that exemplified one of the themes of our trip: Understanding the diverse sides of Mexico.

What did I notice? 

Xochimilco - vibrantly colored flat boats, our silent guide slowly pushing our boat down the river

Mexico-style vending meets water = boats full of mariachis offering to play, boats with people selling freshly grilled corn, businesses hopping onto our boat to display a blanket or necklace we may want to buy

Mariachis on Water

Trajineras waiting for launch

Frida, Frida, Frida - I admit that I am not always drawn to all of her work, but walking through the blue house and reading her complete story pulled me into the raw emotion of her paintings more than ever.  

What connections did I make?

Four of us decided to take on the art of salsa dancing at a local venue that offered group lessons before open salsa dancing.  We fell into the back row of want-to-be dancers to discover that the rows rotated so that we would end up in front soon enough.  I felt confident with the basic step.  However, it turns out that there are a lot of other moves I was not familiar with in the land of salsa dancing.  It also turns out that learning to dance in a second language is much more difficult than in a first language.  This may seem obvious, but it was a really good reminder to me of how much more I had to concentrate when I had to depend only on what I saw for much of the lesson.  I couldn't help but think about how much energy some of our students who are learning English must put forth every day.  Feeling completely inept, they lined us up, women paired with men, and started shouting salsa moves at us.  I have to say that my rotating partners were incredibly kind and forgiving of my lack of skills.  

July 27 - Changing Crowds

Last night was Luche Libre and tonight was the Ballet Folklorico at the Palacio de Belles Artes.  I love the quick shift we made from cheering, masked fans surrounding a wrestling rink to a dressed up audience filing into the seats in front of a stage of dancers.

What did I notice?
The Ballet Folklorico tells the history of Mexico with music and dance.  Audience participation is encouraged with clapping, foot stomping, "hay, hay" shouting, and whistling.  A mariachi band, guitars, harps, drums, and the ever-present marimba change the mood of the different songs.

And...I need to go to bed, so I'll leave with a few images for now.

I Heart D.F.

Today we walked to the historical zocolo of Mexico City, and I was happy.  Standing at the center of the world's second largest city square I was surrounded by the National Palace with Diego Rivera's murals, the sinking Cathedral next to the rising Aztec ruins, and tourists watching the native Aztec dancers in the center of the action.  How could I ignore the energy that surrounded me?

What did I notice?

The National Palace - Though this was my second visit to the palace where the walls are filled with story-telling murals created by Diego Rivera, my new understanding of the history of Mexico brought me new appreciation to the historical murals.  The repeating faces of Hernan Cortez changing in one mural, the numerous appearances of corn, and the newspapers with the headlines of "Tierra y Libertad" (Land and Liberty) all have more meaning to me now.  Rivera's ability to tell a country's stories through art and the ability for us to stand in front of that art is inspiring.

A section of one of Rivera's murals at the National Palace

The Templo Mayor Aztec Ruins with the National Cathedral in the background

Lucha Libre - After an inspiring day downtown, I stepped into a contemporary arena of a different sort.  Our group made our way to a lucha libre event (picture WWF/E wrestling).   The anti-violent feminist in me wanted to resist the idea, but I willingly admit that I had a great time.  We chanted with the crowd as the characters took the stage.  The violence that I feared turned out to be more of a gymnastics, acting, and acrobatic combination of men and women jumping, twisting, and flipping at each other.  I allowed myself to laugh heartily as the men and women came out in their capes, masks, and exaggerated personalities.

Masked at Lucha Libre with fellow-teachers, Kate, Christina, and Heather

July 25 - Round Two

My friend, Lauren, taught me the game called: Pretend You're Falling Off the Ruins and Take a Picture.   Now, I can't help but incorporate it into my ruins experiences. 

A few connections...
Ten years ago I took class in Mexico City with a group of students from Concordia.  Today I found myself posing for pictures that I took that summer.  I snapped a shot of the clocks at the Basilica of Guadalupe, I took my turn standing on top of a pyramid at Teotihuacan, and then I smiled for a photo at a cave transformed into a restaurant.

What did I notice?

The Basilica of Guadalupe - For the second time, I was drawn to the cross made up of a variety of clocks.  Bells tolling, Roman numerals, an Aztec calendar, a Sundial.
I spent more time looking at all of the pictures of the Virgen of Guadelupe throughout the two cathedrals and other small shrines.  This trip has confirmed for me the power of this symbol.  People in the community of Chamula worshiped Guadelupe, festivals in Xico honored Guadelupe, and people in Mexico City adorn the largest cathedral with images of her.  I am starting to understand why people call themselves Guadelupan as much as Catholic in Mexico.

Cross of Time

Teotihuacan - Ok.  This is the 6th archeological ruins site I've visited this month.  That's a lot of pyramids and ball courts.  Yet, I wouldn't have given up my second visit to this expansive site.  I think its the orientation of Teotihuacan that puts it near the top of my ruins experiences.  The Sun pyramid is positioned to face the east and west and the Moon Pyramid is perpendicular on the north end of what appears to be a long lane between smaller pyramids.  Trudging up the steep steps of the sun pyramid brings on a rush caused from the numerous steps, the multitude of people, and the inspiring views.  While I could do without the sometimes overwhelming vendors, I was glad to squeeze another pyramid hike into our trip.  

Pyramid of the Moon

July 24 - To The City

What did I notice? 
The Astrobus has become a second home for our group this month.  I loaded the bus this morning, greeted our steadfast driver, Benito, and made my way to my typical seat in the back.  Everybody has marked their territory in one fashion or another.  Jennifer pins her recent croqueting projects on her seat.  Heather has a towel that has been "drying" for a couple of weeks over the seat.  I have my favorite hoody and rain coat ready for use.  Today was our longest journey, from Oaxaca to Mexico City.  We followed our typical journey routine: Jaques makes announcements about our day before we all snuggle into our sweatshirts to fall asleep for the first leg of the trip.  Soon, Jaques decides it is time for us to learn more and plays a Carlos Fuentes movie, a documentary, or music related to our destination.  We all catch up on our journaling, reading, or project designs for a while.  I'm in the high-frequency section of the bus because I am by the snacks and the bus-size resource library for all of us to use as we are working on our projects.  Near the end of the ride, the back of the bus moves into restless mode.  We dig in the snack box, play ridiculous games, laugh at things that probably aren't that funny, and read aloud from the Lonely Planet about our next destination.

Today's travels were broken up by a lunch in Puebla.  We dined in the wine cellar of an old flour mill turned restaurant.  My bus attire made me feel underdressed for our setting.  We sat at a long wooden table, wine racks surrounding us in the dim light.  We began our meal with appetizers of ant eggs and fried worms. Even as I am typing this I squirm a little. Feeling like I shouldn't let opportunities pass, I quickly ate a small bite of both.  The idea of what I put in my mouth was quickly washed down with a red wine and hearty meal.

Challenged and nourished, we reloaded the bus for the final stretch to Mexico City.

Ant Eggs...with a little guacamole 

July 23 - A Little Adventure

Today was our "free" day in Oaxaca.  Kate (fellow runner / teacher) and I decided to take the opportunity to find a little adventure.  For 200 pesos (less than twenty American dollars) we were geared up with mountain bikes, helmets, a bike lock, and a map with a great route from Oaxaca, to the Monte Alban Ruins, to the small town of San Antonio Arrazola, and back.

What did I notice?
I now understand why the ruins are called Monte Alban (White Mountain).  Our journey out of Oaxaca started comfortably.  We made our way out of town and began our ascent.  At first, we commented on the incredible view of Oaxaca below us.  Soon the hills quieted our conversation, leaving the noise of our shifting gears.  We occasionally pulled over to check the map, drink some water, and note our increasing heart rates.  As I was staring down at my pumping legs a man ran past us and amiably offered up a, "poca a poca" (little by little).   A little over an hour into our ride, we rolled into the parking lot for the Monte Alban ruins.  After a little granola bar break, we made our way into the Ancient Zapotec capital.  At first, the ruins seemed to be like many of the other archeological visits we have made, but when we reached the top pyramid we realized what made this location different.  Climbing to the peak of the pyramids allowed us to see mountains lowering in all directions.   The view was worth the journey.

The rest of our journey really was downhill, but offered some of its own adventures.  We turned off on a river basin road to head to the small town of Arrazola.  Trees shaded the road of red sand as we pushed forward, skidding through corroded sections of the road.  Thank you mountain bikes.   We stopped to ask a man with two oxen if we were heading in the right direction.  Soon we were in the town where we each contributed to the economy by buying one of the small, boldly colored animals.

We got back on our bikes for our last stretch of the journey. A steady descent took us quickly into the city traffic and smog of Oaxaca.  We pedaled into the bike shop five hours after we left, tired, hungry, a little sun-burned and very satisfied.

At the Ancient Zapotec Capital Monte Alban (White Mountain)

Navigation

Our Map...Some sections of our journey were clearer than others.