San Miguel de Allende

Just a short entry because we are back in Mexico City in the Hostel Moneda. Horaldo the crazy man has arrived, and he is trying to organise a trip to the wrestling. This involves rounding up a group of people and then organising a taxi to take us there and pick us up. There is a huge street market outside the hostel. so it is closed to traffic, this means we have to walk up to the corner to meet Ricardo, our taxi driver. Going out at night is dangerous, but the most dangerous part is hailing a taxi on the street. Not even the real risktaking, Spanish speaking men do that. Hailing a taxi on the street means that the statistics about Mexico being the kidnap capital of the world might just come true for you. The story is that the taxi driver picks up the passengers, drives them to where he wants, meets up with his gang and then they and all their possesions become his. Even the last train on the subway is safer than hailing a taxi. Or so it goes. If, on the other hand you know the taxi driver, and have a time and place for pick up, it is okay. The hostel has its own taxi driver and our excursion is with him. All this and we are only going out from 7.30 til 9.30pm, hardly a late night.

We returned from San Miguel de Allende at 4 pm today, and it met every preconception of Mexico, especially in the rustic, quaint, cute, colourful etc range of descriptors. Some of the features are: cobblestone paths, Mexican folk taking their children to school on horseback while wearing white cowboy hats, terracotta pots, mustard yellow walls, silver jewellry, and a laid back attitude. (If you google the name of the town under images you will see what I mean.)
The thing I did not expect was the number of American and Canadian folk who have retired here, and the ease with which we got around. This town of 60,000 was listed in some newpaper as one of the top ten retirement spots in the world, and come they did. The real estate is cheap (with North American money), in winter it is 20 to 25 degrees, and the cost of living is one third to one half of the US. Many people live in this town for half the year, and I can't say as I can blame them. It is the only place in Mexico where I have seen Chinese food, sushi, Italian food, muesli and decent coffee.

Back to Australia soon.

Bullfighting: not so delicious when killed this way

We are really happy and healthy. We are managing the subway quite well and getting around with ease.

We saw the famous Diego Rivera Rockefeller mural recreation today and in front of it was a really interesting guy from Canada. He was a leftist, but I don't know what sort, the only thing I could work out was that he was not a Stalinist. He knew everything about the mural and answered all our questions with relish. It was particularly wonderful to have just come from the Rockefeller Centre and know the context. We also saw a good deal of modern Mexican art. The murals are bigger and better than I can say, and everything is an adventure. I am trying to write quite a bit on the blog, just so I don't start to forget.

All of this and we are really just on the tourist trail. Very, very few people speak English, so it is hard to talk to anyone beyond the tour guide, the people who work at the hostel and other travellers. Much to my surprise, I am developing a bit of Spanish. The little bit of Italian that I have and few words of French are actually working for me. One guy today has been studying Spanish for a while and asked me how long I had been learning Spanish. I felt most flattered. They had a band at the hostel last night and Charles managed to befriend them, but none of them had any English, so it was communication through gesticulation.

This afternoon we hooked up with a two big Aussies (uncle and nephew team) and went to the bull fight. The older guy had spent 5 years travelling the world and spoke a little Spanish. It is really good for us to meet these people and moving around the city with a big bloke or two or three certainly has its comfort. While the bull fight was horrible, it was not quite as horrible as I thought and I managed to keep my eyes open most of the time. But never again. I won't describe it here, because I know that few people would want to know the details. Suffice to say that few people who were raised in this culture think bullfighting is okay. I am happy to eat beef, but not so happy when it is killed in this way.

Horrible as all of this is, the train trip remains the real horror. Terribly disabled, and deformed people pass though each carriage selling junk. Worst was the young guy laying on the seat next to me, not moving, eyes open, chest not going up and down- at least as far as I could tell. Too make matters worse another couple had a chuckle, pointed, then took photos with their mobile phones.

I also met a couple of women from Canada who live 6 months of the year in San Miguel de Allende (where we are going tomorrow) and they reassured us that it is the most wonderful friendly town, so I am feeling good about that decision too.

People are coming and going from Oaxaca and are all reporting that it is safe and wonderful for tourisits. Perhaps not so safe and wonderful for leftisits, workers and teachers though. Still, it is a 6 hour bus trip and I am more than happy to see a different colonial town.

Yesterday we tried to go to a pre-Spanish cafe for dinner because Charles wanted to eat an iguana. (The grasshoppers did not fill him up.) It was closed. Better luck next time. Questionable as to whether they are delicious when fried.

The big day out

In the Plaza de Garibaldi, at night hundreds of mariachis gather. The are in full costume and they all have mariarchi vans. A mariachi band usually has 8/10 members and they meet the tourist steroetype to a T. The idea is that they are for hire. For about $7, they will sing any song you order. We ordered ''Sing and Don't Cry". If you really like them, you negotiate a price and take them back to your place for a party (that is what the mariachi van is for). Not a single one of them speaks a word of English, so the negotiations just for one song were hilarious. We danced and laughed, clapped and had a great time. Then, we noticed that everyone else who paid for songs was most sombre. This did not gel with our experience of Mexicans to date, we have found people very funny and friendly. One woman patron had her arms firmly folded across her chest and she looked deadly serious. Eventually, she and another woman with her started crying. This is when I turned my brain on, and remembered that the name of the song I ordered, and that the point of a lot of the music is to move people to tears with tales of epic, personal tragedy. We felt pretty stupid for singing and dancing, but how were we to know. We managed to talk a big Dutch guy and Aussie girl into coming with us. This was useful because the area is a little dodgy and it was good to have both Charles and the guy with us.

Today was the Xochimilco flower market and a ride down the canal to the islands in the middle of Mexico city. It is another world. We got there early and it was very peaceful. On small boats came shops of the following varieties, a marimba band, a soda hawker, a jewellry hawker, a bar b qued corn seller, and a more. It is a floating market with so many colors, it is almost an offence to the eye.

Next was the Frida Karlo Musuem. It was beatiuful, but when I saw the painting of her amputated foot I cried. Her decorated back braces, crutches, the bed with the mirror and her unfinished painting, still on the easel are all on display.

Lunch was at a terrific market at Cocoyan (the place of the coyote). Mexico has 25 million people and we ran into people who we knew! Lunch was delicious, but I am finding is hard to remember all the names of the food. I had a great hot soup with chicken, pork, lime chilli, herbs, radish and something else.

We then went to Trotsky's house and again with the tears. The photos were so moving, his grave is at this place and the rabbit hutches are still in situ. We saw the bedroom, the kitchen, the study, the bullet holes, the guard towers and all the documents. One woman on the tour knew a great deal of the history and taled to Charles and all the others. I was a bit beyond speech, especially when it came to the bit where they explained what Stalin did to Trotsky's entire extended family.

I needed some relief after this, so when we got back to the hostel we went off to the Plaza San Domingo (where the Spanish inquisition was conducted) and bought a bag of fried crickets with lime. Delicious when fried.

Downtown Mexico (pronounced Me/hi/co)

I wish I could find a way to upload photos. Even the small bedrooms at the hostel have murals of giant flowers.

Today's adventure was a trip to the education dept office. It is all built around a courtyard in colonial style and it is enormous. The building is three stories high and all of the walls facing the courtyards on each floor has a mural. The is more than 1km of murals. Diego Riveria and has helpers produced this. The scale is amazing, and even though I am not so crazy about his particular style, they are effective. They are symbolic as well as literal, but they are easy to decode. Some of the more simple ones depict images such as a strong man with a hammer and sickle lapel pin bringing workers, peasants and soldiers together, others relate to the aztec culture and some are a little more abstract. The whole thing in free and there were very few people walking around looking at the murals. Even Charles said that being forced to study art history was a drag, but he is glad now looking at this and all the museums we saw in New York. Mexico particularly has the feel of art for the people, where as everything in New York emits the sense of art for the privileged.

Today in the Zocolo (central sqare of the town) we saw a break dancing group. The are absolutely professional, well organised and did things with their bodies that should not be possible. Even after seeing contortionists in Circe de Soliel, these street performers still impress. They were thin and young and energetic, I am convinced that they were dislocating limbs at will.

We also went to an artisan market. Most of the stuff was really junk, most of the stuff, except for the food. We ate things that we cannot name and it was wonderful. The only problem is that we wanted to try it all and at a certain point we just had to surrender.

On Monday we have booked to go to San Miguel de Allende on a bus and will just stay one night. I spent last night with a really great couple from Sweden and Charles hung out with a bunch of young assorted folk. All up thet best people we have met have been an Australian couple Dave and Bonnie. Usually when overseas the sensible thing to do is avoid other Aussies but these two are the most well travelled, interesting couple. They both work on luxury boats that sail out of Fort Lauderdale in Florida. All the boats are flagged to countries other than America so they don't need a green card. When they work, they live in cramped conditions and they work very long hours, but they pay no food or rent. Then they get paid, quite well actually, then they collect tips, big tips, sometimes really really big tips. Anyone can do this work, all you need to do is a one week sea safety course and you have the qualification to be a deck hand. Young Aussies are preferred, and there is a dire shortage of crew. They admit that the money is so good, it is hard to leave and do anything else. They have sailed the whole world and have almost enough to buy a hostel at Byron Bay.This is all well before the age of 30.

The thing is they took Charles under their wing and you guessed it have lined all the information and given him their email addresses for any other questions. They have spelt out the dangers and traps to avoid, as well as telling him how to get the right visa. I am not kidding! Charles does not even want to come back home (but he will, if only to save up enough money to return). We have checked it all out on the internet and everything they say is true!

The altitude dizziness has faded, but Charles is tired today. We re feeling quite safe and comfortable. Even when we cannot work out the money and just offer a big denomination note we seem to get back the right change. We managed the subway by ourselves.I know this is not India, but I am still sickened by the poverty, today's horror was a man with no arms or legs on the ground on a piece of cardboard outside a church begging. Heart breaking!

15 minute blog

Hi Colette, great to hear from you!

We are using the computers at the hostel and there is a 15 minute limit if people are waiting. Of course everyone goes out all day then uses the internet in the evening, so there is a queue, and I will just give a few comments. Now the high altitude has kicked in and I have a headache. The hostel scene is good for us. Mainly the people are young, single, world travellers. A whole array of young single adventurous women are here and Charles is managing quite well. They all have great and terrible travel stories.

Today we drove for ages along a freeway, though about 20 kms of non-stop slums to the pyramids. We climbed two of them including the second highest pyramid in the world. The view was spectacular, the pollution was even more spectacular. These people had foresight, they built the pyramids over centuries, they engineered an architectual marvel, they also practised human sacrifice at special alters and sometimes rolled the decapitated bodies down the stairs. We stood on the top of the pyramid and watched people raise their arms to the sky in worship.

I too have found something to worship. At last something that religion has to offer me, something that I can realte to. In the biggest cathedral of the Spanish (built from the ruins of the Aztec temple that they knocked down) they have a series of chapels. One of these chapels is devoted entirely to the worship of chocolate. I too worship chocolate and suggest it to you all as a most fulfilling (or filling at least) devotion.

Apparently 85% of Mexicans are Catholic and 95% are Guadalupans. I knew nothing about the story of the virgin of Guadalpe, but she is the hot ticket in meso-America. We are both staggered at the religious passion, everything revolves around this. The tour took us to the Cathedral of Guadalupe, outside was a street market and at least half the bus was more interested in cruising the market than in the cathedral. It was still interesting though, we watched crippled people gingerly toughing a photograph of the image of the virgin, praying to be cured, the cathedral was packed an apparently almost always is and in the enourmous courtyard outside a Spanish version of Simon and Garfunkles Bridge over Troubled Waters was being playéd.

Diego every where

I will try really hard not to over use superlatives, especially the emply ones like Wow, and Awesome, but it requires a huge effort.
I can't plug my camera in so I will leave the photos for later.

Today was a walking tour, one Swiss woman, then Aussies, Aussies, Aussies. The people we are hanging with are realy interesting. Young footloose travellers, been everywhere, still travelling types. They are savvy and clever and interesting. The hostel is great so far are we are happy to hang out on the bar in the evening. Mexico has really good tequila, and it is really cheap.

We saw so many Diego murals today that my head is spinning. They are huge, much bigger than I imagined and he was much more prolific than I realised. There are ancient ruins right around the corner, but try as I might, I still keep getting my Mayans, mixed up with my Aztecs. We trekked out on the subway to the Anthopology Museum. The Mayan sculpture is vital, lively and towering. I know some folks have been impressed with my managing the NY subway, but Mexico is a different thing altogether. I though I was going to faint. The only saving grace was that if I did I would still be perfectly vertical because that train was so crowded there was no room to breathe, much less fall over.

Lunch was chicken with chocolate sauce. Dinner was grilled chicken from a grill bar. All delicious.

On the streets at about 8pm crowds of people gather to dance. Two drummers start up and large crowds come and do set formation dances. They have red headbands, bells on their ankles and they all know the steps. The dances are really complex. The explanation given to us is that they are practising for a big Aztec festival. The practise every night in the street and then at the festival they dance for two hours straight.

Finally I am getting tired. Mexico is high altitude and we walked all over town. But I don't want to stop. I am only sorry that we don't have a few months the spend here. The streets are busy and so far we have felt very safe.

We are not in Kansas any more

We may not be in Kansas, but we did go to Dallas. Our flight got cancelled and we were rescheduled but got to Mexico anyway.
All of the instructions for my blog are now in Spanish and the @ can only be accessed by pressing alt then 6 then 4 on the number side keyboard. (I have not written this because it is interesting, but because next time I next time I log in I am sure I will forget. )

On the way here we were selected for special security clearance. The secuity people had advanced skills in rudeness and mumbling, so we ended up getting yelled at. We were trying to do as we were told, but it was all a bit too dramatic for me. We had to remove various items of clothing, were frisked and swabbed. I feel so much safer now! When we arrived in Mexico we were asked to "Push the button red". This was a big button in front of us on a post. We had no idea as to the purpose, but it turned out it was a machine that randomly selects people for extra security clearance. This time we did not win the prize.

We have walked around a bit, been out for dinner and settled into our room. It is very basic but cheap enough and the hostel environment is friendly without being full of stupid drunk English tourists.
A few notes

• the colours are great
• the historical centre where we are staying is jaw dropping
  
• the beer is cheap
• news, demonstrations, posters and protests about Oaxaca are everywhere

(For those who do not know the teachers of Oaxaca went on strike earlier this year, this sparked a general strike and occupation of the city. In the end 20 people were killed, dozens injured and many jailed)

I will try to get some photos tomorrow. Right not I am on the roof garden of the hostel. It is beautiful, I have tequila, some salt and lime, and I am into it. Only problem is I can not shake the image of the bedraggled, disabled begger actually crawling on all fours up the flithy street and then there is, the sign on the bar urging patrons to tip because the minimum wage is 50 pesos.

Tomorrow I will provide some photos.