Whatever you want to call it, there's no denying the sheer grandeur and awe of Mexico's capital city. After five days here, we are only merely beginning to leave an impression on the surface of this enormous place. It's just so. incredibly. huge.
In this city we inhale smog and we exhale life. Every day upon awakening we breathe in a delicious palate of culture -- from saliva-inducing sopes and awe-inspiring architecture to the smoky clouds of sage that bellow from beneath the feet of native street performers -- it fills us up until we can injest no more. Unless, perhaps, you're talking about street tacos and tortas. Then it seems as though I'm a bottomless pit. No matter how much of the free eggs and toast served by the hostel I scarf down in the morning, I long to devour every morsel that I smell while parading down the block. My nose and tastebuds have never endured so much endless satisfaction.
Upon our arrival in el D.F., we checked into our hostel and quickly made our way to a recommended restaurant a mere 7 blocks from our doorstep. Quite appropriately named Costillas el Sitio, the small comedor served hardly anything but the delicious beef ribs from which it derived its name. But of course, if you're like us, and previously never heard of costillas, the title might not seem quite as obvious. With that in mind, we had no idea what to expect upon entering. It first appeared as if we might not be able to find a table, the small comedor packed to the gills with locals, barely enough room for the waitresses to make their way to and from the kitchen, much less the chefs to prepare the plates and make fresh tortillas -- all of which was done in the front of the restaurant, taking up much of the entrance way. After surveying the restaurant's only foreign patrons, the owner quickly motioned for us to come on in and swept off a side table for us, complete with a view of the back of the dining room and the Coke refrigerator.
After several attempts to order chicken tacos, tortas, and enchiladas -- all of which they were out of -- we settled on two orders of costillas. And had no idea what we were going to be eating for dinner. Alas, it was a great idea. We were each quickly served a plate of the thin, grilled beef ribs with tortillas, grilled shallot-like onions about a foot long, spicy black bean soup, and a sope -- a thick, fried tortilla topped with cheese. Amazing. We quickly exchanged glances of complete awe and proceeded to empty the plates into our stomachs, pausing only to catch our breath and momentarily help the owner with his understanding of a few english phrases. To say we were full would be an understatement, yet we somehow had enough space in our bellies to follow a few locals to a nearby watering hole for some mariachi music and a pint of Negra Modelo.
We awoke the next morning overcome with a sense of adventure and independence, only to hurl our plans of exploration out the window upon being offered the opportunity to take a trip to the nearby ruins of Teohuatican. It was more expensive than if we were to make it there by ourselves, but our tour guide was really friendly and a lot of fun. On the way to the ruins we also stopped by for a quick tour of the Aztec ruins of Tlatelolco, which once comprised one of the centers of the ancient city of Tenochtitlan. Now completely engulfed by the modern megalopolis, it is rather difficult to describe how it feels to stand with one foot on ground so old that it dwarfs all that you know of the physical earth, and the other on a solid cement sidewalk, a stone's throw from commercial shops and housing projects.
Afterward we stopped by the Basilica de Guadelupe -- a Catholic mecca second in importance only to the Vatican -- for a couple hours and were set free to roam the sprawling property and all of the sanctuaries it provides. So beautiful. The architecture of all buildings, both new and old, was truly awe-inspiring -- even that of the old basilica which is slowly sinking into the ground. The angle is such that were it not for the gorgeous interior that pulls you toward the ancient pews, you would fall right back down the steps behind you. I couldn't help but wish that I had a pair of roller blades tucked away in my bag for such an occasion.
We spent the next hour driving north out of the expansive capital's barrios, which seemed to be becoming dilapidated and yet making way for new life right in front of our eyes. We quickly noticed that the farther we got from the city center, not only did the quality of houses and buildings decrease, but so did the palette of color with which they were adorned (save for necessary graffiti along the highway).We finally arrived at the village nearest to the pyramids and passed a couple hours at an artisan's studio, where they made crafts, statues, and jewelry all from the local rocks (obsidian, tiger eye, turquoise, etc.), as well as different types of tequila. The owner gave us a short lesson on the agave plant and all that the natives reap from such a wonderful gift from the earth. Not only does it provide various types of drinks (that we eagerly slurped down with lime and salt), but also natural provisions for the creation of cloth, paper, and sewing materials (by simply breaking off the sharp, pointed tip of the plant, natives are provided with not only a sewing needle but also the initial thread needed to sew their fabric). A truly incredible plant. We watched as he showed us how they use plants to dye the fabric. First with a rose petal he turned the agave fabric a bright red. Then, adding calcium from a dust made of animal bones, the fabric glowed a beautiful rainbow of bluish green to purple, becoming a brighter green with each addition of the hard, powdery substance.
After the short tour of their studio, we were treated to one of the most appetizing buffets I'd ever seen. Mole poblano, salsa made from cactus fruit, rice and vegetables, shredded pork simmered in local oranges, corn cake, sweet rice pudding, fresh spicy peppers. My taste buds couldn't control themselves. This photo doesn't do it justice.
After downing our fair share share of tequila and stuffing ourselves to the point of immobilization, we were expected to hop up and go climb the pyramids. Well, we didn't exactly run around the ruins. But it was fun nonetheless. We were given a few hours to roam around by ourselves. The photos speak for themselves:
That night we went out to eat with a bunch of Aussies. When I got back I taught them how Americans play King's Cup. It was a long night, to say the least.
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The following day we had plans similar to that of the first: awake, eat hostel food, scour guide book for free activities, explore capital. Alas, we failed once again in making these a reality. The same guide we had the day before arrived once again, quickly ensnared us with his persuasive friendly and comedic persona, and we were off on another tour at his side. This time we explored the city on foot. First to El Palacio Nacional, where he explained in detail the many murals by Diego Rivera that adorn the walls of the nation's government building. Too bad the paintings aren't more portable, for your sake at least. They're inexplicably beautiful, and their size dwarfs most everything I've ever seen in a museum. Truly spectacular.
We spent the rest of the day touring classic sights throughout the city: the studio of famous national artist Joaquin Clausell (incredible), the first hospital of the Americas, the last pulceria in the capital, one of the city's biggest bakeries, the capital's beautiful post office, and finally the largest market on both American continents. Like the city itself, the sheer size of the market was rather difficult, if not impossible, to comprehend. Even after walking through a good portion of it. Consuming an expansive 70 city blocks, this market is nothing like your hometown mall. No, it has much more than that. Can you find fresh pig heads and three-foot tall piles of mole in your mall? Didn't think so.
At one point we stopped to admire an enormous basket of fresh habanero peppers. Unfortunately, we had been talking to our guide earlier on about how much we enjoyed spice. Well, I guess he took it as a challenge. He asked the woman behind the counter if we could try some and she obliged. Opening a small bottle of habanero salsa, she gave each of us merely enough to adorn the tips of our fingers -- perhaps a chocolate chip-sized amount. Though deliciously sour at first, it was enough to ignite our tongues ablaze. No summer time inner city fire hydrant street dance could put out this fire. As we paraded away, Gabby turned around to give me a look that glared, "thanks a lot for recommending that, you ass." Our tour guide found this all very amusing.
That night I had the pleasure of meeting a handful of Colombian exchange students (as well as one Chilean) who were staying in the hostel and looking for a place to live for the next few months. We spent a few hours in the hostel lobby, sharing drinks and stories within a veil of cigarette smoke, before heading out to conquer the town. While Gabby stayed behind to practice her Spanish, we walked and talked all the way to the Plaza de Girabaldi, a large outdoor square famous for the congested nightly performances by the many mariachi that pepper the crowd (and the drunks that make it that much more fascinating a sight). We walked back after a while -- the Colombians to a tequila bar and I to my impending slumber.
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We explored the following day on foot with a fellow traveler, an Argentinan named Santiago, and saw much of the old, colonial part of the city, as well as the enormous parque -- Bosque de Chapultapec. Beautiful, yet far too crowded. Both by locals and vendors selling far more useless junk than you could ever possibly imagine. Think: Chinatown meets carnie booths. Nonetheless, the park was gorgeous and, though the photos don't show it, the urban forests sprawl on for what seem like miles amid the concrete chaos.
Lunch that day: street-side sope adorned with picadillo and cheese, gordita (chubby, fried tortilla) stuffed with pork, salsa verde, mango juice, and an orange.
Upcoming: our last day in the capital and our first in Puebla.
G'night todos. I miss and love you all.
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