A Ver
A Ver
A mosey through Mexico’s heartland
Mexico has long been on my bucket list. Somewhat disgracefully, it has lingered there while I cavorted off to other, more distant countries--staying tantalizingly close by and offering hints of its charms.
This summer, opportunity struck. In between contracts and very willing to apply for jobs while stuffing my face with street tacos and beer, it was time to carpe that diem and head for Mexico City.
Palacio de Bellas Artes, the superbly beautiful art nouveau style performing arts center in downtown Mexico City as seen from the cafe in the Sears Building across the street. The post office (seen just to the right of the Palacio) is also worth sticking your head into. It’s like Gringotts.
It was, I felt immediately upon landing in Benito Juarez airport, an outstanding decision on my part. To the uninitiated, Mexico City is a hubbub of cars, roundabouts, crowded streets and graffiti. A closer look yields vibrantly colored buildings, outstanding street art, world class architecture and a busy, yet orderly, downtown.
A glimpse inside the Palacio Nacional, located on the Zocalo, or central square of Mexico City. A federal government building open to the public, it houses a number of works by muralist Diego Rivera.
As an outsider, the first impression I had of Mexico City was one of layers. Layers of history--often of a violent, colonial nature--layers of culture, layers of identities, layers of stories.
Far from the paternalistic lens through which Mexico is viewed from the United States, it became immediately clear that we have it really quite wrong. No surprise there.
Poverty is real. So is corruption and gang warfare. The drivers of migration are alive and well in Mexico, and naturally, people want to take advantage of the opportunities that the US provides.
But Mexico is a very rich country. Its patrimonial heritage is immense, and has left a legacy that is never touched on in the media or by a racist president in the US. But the Mexicans are well aware of it, and are justifiably proud.
In its modern times, Mexico has produced some outstanding artists. Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera are among the most well known, but there is a deep spring of literary and musical tradition as well.
One of Diego Rivera’s masterpieces at the Palacio Nacional.
And the food. Fam, the food in Mexico City is everything I could have wished for. Home to more Michelin starred restaurants than any other city in the world, its culinary achievements are unparalleled. But in addition to haute cuisine, the chilaquiles, piping hot empanadas and loaded elote stand up to their delicious street food counterparts across the globe.
I learned about the transcendency of tacos al pastor. Who would have thought that meat shaved off a stick, stuck in a scalding hot corn tortilla, and garnished with a slice of pineapple and mango salsa would be the means of transportation to the happiest of places? Served with a cold beer in a mostly-empty restaurant filled with fluorescent lighting and the sounds of a game blaring from the tv, it was just about as close to food paradise as it is possible to get. Amen.
To round off this plethora of wonder is Mexico City's outstanding anthropological/ethnographic/archeological sites. The museum of anthropology in the downtown is very well done. Carefully thought out, and with excellent attention to detail, the exhibits are enjoyable and informative. There was far more museum than time, sadly, but it's worth at least half a day to get the basics.
Temple of Doom vibes at the National Ethnographic Museum in Mexico City.
Just outside of the city lie the restored pyramids of Teotihuacan. Built by the Mixtecas (known to most as the Aztecs), they are a few of many remains of a once-great empire. I won't pretend to be an expert--do a Google to find out more. But the Sun Pyramid is the larger of the two big pyramids--the other being the Moon Pyramid--which are connected by the Avenue of the Dead. At +8,000 feet, climbing the steeply pitched pyramids will literally take your breath away.
Pyramid of the Moon—Teotihuacan
It was an easy Uber ride out and back to the pyramids. Our driver on the way out seemed to have a tempestuous relationship with his map, which resulted in extra driving around. But the benefit of going to a pyramid in a field is that you can see it from a ways off, and don't have to work too hard to figure out in which direction it lies.
Our driver on the way back was a dream. Personable and full of information and insights, we stretched the boundaries of my Spanish in the hour's drive into the city in a conversation that ranged from pleasantries, to politics (wtf is happening in the US?), to history (down with the Spanish colonizers!), to culture (a short briefing on Day of the Dead, with an exciting detour through food topics), and back to politics (Mexican politics are as messy as anywhere else in the world).
A week in Mexico City barely felt like enough time. There was so much we wanted to see, do and taste. But we boarded a very nice Ado bus, and took ourselves southwards. On our list was Puebla, home of the Mexican Revolution, and Cholula, more famous for its 365 churches and the largest pyramid in the world by volume than for hot sauce.
El Parian market, Puebla
This area has a lot going on. Historically, it has been a political crucible. Artistically, it is famous for its talavera ceramics and brilliant markets, such as El Parian pictured above. Culinarily, it is home to the mole poblano, a delicious and labor-intensive gravy/sauce comprised of upwards of 25 ingredients, including chiles and chocolate.
A short but tantalizing stay in Puebla left us wishing we had another couple days, but Day of the Dead was approaching and it was time to head to Oaxaca.
Mary is venerated across the country, particularly in her form of Our Lady of Guadalupe, characterized by the flowers at her feet.
The Ado bus had served us well so far, so we hopped another one for the four hour journey south. The ride was dramatic, with deep canyons and forests of organ pipe cactus looking like a spiky army defending the hillsides.
Our arrival in Oaxaca was punctuated by the sounds of a band and loud fireworks coming from the Xochimilco neighborhood, where a saint's day celebration was in full swing. I was immediately apparent that I was going to lose quite a lot of my free-loving heart to Oaxaca.
Wandering around the city is worth several days in and of itself, popping into shops in the downtown after exploring the cathedrals and museums. The markets are dimly lit, labyrinthine buildings full of joy. Sit back with some horchata in hand and watch other people do the haggling, or dive right in to pick up some hand-worked leather products, or--joy of joy--hand woven or embroidered textiles.
And what about the food, you ask? It's the best yet. Rich moles are joined with seafood and tropical flavors. Fruit makes more appearances in savory dishes to my taste buds' delight. Dinner is complemented with the local drink of choice--mezcal. Made from the agave cactus and aged for years, mezcal is smooth. Very smooth, and a little bit smoky, depending on how it's been aged. The stuff is delicious, but lethal.
Within a day trip of the city are Hierve el Agua, site of calcified waterfalls, and Mitla, half-completed pyramids with amazing geometric designs. An extremely colorful driver, my-name-is-Marguarito-but-that's-a-girl's-name-so-call-me-Moreno, was our guide for the day. He told a number of wildly off-color but low-key hilarious stories that added quite a lot of vibrancy to our day trip. He had friends everywhere we stopped, and was clearly a favorite of his taxi compatriots.
Moreno had many thoughts on mezcal. "You can only have four glasses of mezcal. The first one is very good and you're very happy. The second one is still good. The third one, you're very sad and crying on your barstool. The fourth one, you're back to being very happy because you don't even remember your name."
Calavera viviente—a woman dresses as a skeleton for Day of the Dead.
Another day trip in the other direction is to Monte Alban, a significant pyramid complex in the hills outside of the city of Oaxaca. There were so many pyramids in our lives in this two week period. These ruins are still under excavation, and were severely damaged in an earthquake that rocked southern Mexico in 2017.
Let us make no mistake, my experience with Mexico is one borne of a lot of privilege. As one of our drivers pointed out, visitors from the United States and abroad have access to parts of Mexico, particularly the resorts, that are so prohibitively expensive that many Mexicans will not have the chance to visit them. The Central American migrant caravan arrived in the state of Oaxaca at the same time we did, and the Mexican military was out in force. It was an up close and personal reminder that the news does not exist in abstractions. People are fleeing very real violence and are searching for safety and opportunity.
We were treated with hospitality and kindness everywhere we went. I wish I could say the same for the treatment Mexicans receive coming to the USA. The moral of this story is as follows: be a considerate traveler, aware of how you are presenting yourself and your country. Politics can be destructive for relationships, but it is within our power to rebuild them one interaction at a time. Sharing tacos and mezcal are a good place to start.
Stay cool.
My name is Jenny Sparks, and I've worked, traveled, and eaten my way across the globe, with a special affinity for the Middle East. Follow me on Instagram at @jsparksflying. All photos ©Jennifer Sparks.