I have so many stories I want to tell, stories I want to
remember, but the longer I wait and the older I get, the harder it gets to write
them. I never did finish writing about all my European travels. I should have
written them after each weekend, but alas, I didn’t.
Now, I just returned from Mexico City. Mexico - a place I have
never really liked much (tbh). The Hispanic people living in Oregon always
turned me off. The switch to Spanish in front of you and the way the men whistled
or catcalled in such a derogatory fashion made me feel dirty. But really, it comes down to a general lack of understanding about their culture (on my part), which is
vastly different (or at least perceived as different) from my own. Add to that
the perception that certain foods and water were not to be consumed, the news of drug
cartels, the issues with illegal immigration, and the stories of kidnappings
…it never felt like a place I wanted to be.
Up until last year, the only experience I had was near the
border doing ‘missionary’ work (building outhouses or bathrooms, hosting Bible
schools). While that was a unique experience, I was young and extra naïve at
the time. I think I was more interested in who I got to sit next to in the van
on the rides there and back. Last fall, I had the opportunity (??) to go for
work. Having spent so much time in Europe, I figured it would be good to meet
colleagues in another place and expand my knowledge.
My experience in Monterrey was lackluster and awkward. It re-instilled
in me the distaste for the machismo attitudes towards women. And the inability
to get straight truth or answers out of people made me question how they could
conduct business, with all that postulating and side-picking. Then there was
the dog ridden neighborhood (we were told certain trucks would come through and
remove the dogs…you can imagine how they were going about disposing of these
poor animals), the smell of chemicals in the back of my throat, and the insane
driving habits. I was ready to shake the Mexican dust off my feet and never
return.
Yet work moves on, and there came the need to go back. Due
to the creepy, inappropriate machismo-ism, I was not allowed (nor would I), go
back to Monterrey. Instead, I was to accompany my colleagues to one of the
largest cities in the world (per the metropolitan area there are some 21M
people – almost 9M living in the city proper). Just about everyone and their
mother balked at this idea – they all threw their concerns and questioned
whether I should go. They asked whom I was going with, where I was staying, if
we had bodyguards, and generally gave me no sense of comfort going to a country
that already intimidated me.
After a couple searches on TripAdvisor, to reassure me that
it was no more unsafe than any other major city. I mean, I have been to NY,
LA, Paris, London, Lima, Moscow – and never felt unsafe in any of those locales. So, I decided to fly in a day early and take a tour of some sites – namely the
pyramids close to the city. Now, I truly hate tourists, both from living in a
city that gets a decent amount of them to running into them while traveling and trying to stay as far away from
them as possible. You know those large groups that allow you to see sites, but never
experience or know a culture? The ones that stand out and push past locals,
stopping at asinine spots to take photos without care for who or what is around
them. Then there is the loud entitled way they act! And this is NO means limited to
Americans, every time there is a large group of non-native people visiting a
place, they seem to get lost in their own cultural bubble that does not allow
them to merge with and see the place they are in.
But I was scared of being alone in Mexico, so I did the
unthinkable and signed up for a full 13-hour tour. I found a tour through
UrbanAdventures via some comments on TripAdvisor, and boy am I glad I did! The
morning half of the tour was myself, a Danish man, and the tour guide Eva. We
walked, took a random taxi, and boarded the metro to visit three different
Mexican markets. We stopped and got fresh tamales (like the locals), saw murals
painted by students of Diego Rivera, and picked our way around dripping stomach
linings. I also bravely tried Huitlacoche (don’t look it up, or do, it’s just
fungus corn…tastes better than it looks), fermented pineapple juice, fresh
tamarind, and cactus (fried it is not so slimy). We also saw the animals to be
used for witchcraft, all sorts of dried spices, herbs, and flowers, and statues
of Our Lady of Guadalupe (of course, mixed in with party gear and Disney's "Frozen" paraphernalia).
My first part of the tour ended, and the second part to go
to Teotihuacan started. I was ‘warned’ of this next tour guide that he was
eccentric and engaging (I’d also read about him online). The Dane left, and I
was joined by 3 ladies from Texas/California. Luis definitely lived up to the
hype! He, like Eva, was a local and familiar with the city. He was engaging, if
a little spastic, but I do agree that he made the tour. We again took the metro
out to a bus station that would then drop us off near the pyramids. No touristy styled buses for us!
It was almost an hour and a half out there, but was worth the
trek. Luis was informative, but not pushy about the information. Apparently,
they know very little about the Teotihuacan civilization, as they have not
found any writings. The Mayans found the pyramids later on, but they did not
build them. They know the people there would powerful (as the settlement was set
up near an obsidian mine, so they had sharp tools and weapons). And the “Sun”
and “Moon” pyramids, as they are now known, were not their original names. The whole areas is built to be 5 degrees off of, and in line with, the North Star. They also valued squares (as you can see from the pictures, everything
is square).
After walking stairs, the 5 of us hoped in a small taxi to
head to one of the three farms we were to visit – but first we stopped for
pulque – an agave cactus fermented drink that was really quite tasty! We then visited
an obsidian farm, a cactus farm, and finally ate at a local family’s house.
It was a long, but very fun day. And I’m really glad I did
it. It helped put me at ease the rest of the week in the city, and provided new
friends – as later in the week, I met up with Luis to experience the monthly ‘cultural’
night – where they play music in local museums.
I have also learned not to trust people who judge a place
before they have been there; I was unduly worried as a result. I should trust
my instincts and past knowledge, which is when you get down to it, all of us are the
same. People are generally good, want to be liked, and are friendly to share their town/culture with someone new. I’m blessed to have been able to meet many
different people from many different places. That knowledge is powerful and
useful, I've found that judging others is never worthwhile or productive.
Work was…interesting, but not bad, and the office was in a
nice area (for once). I don’t speak Spanish (sorry to my high school Spanish teachers!),
but never felt like I couldn’t get by (my coworkers did some, and pointing and
smiling always seems to work). The food was good (and cheap), and the days were
warm and sunny (between 70-80). The difference between this trip and that
couldn’t be more profound. While the traffic and smog sucked, the sudden wafts
of sewer were ever present and unpredictable, there were a couple days of
protests in the streets, and I ended up with a sour stomach by Saturday, I felt
able to walk at night with my coworkers, or jump in taxis (or ubers!) when
needed. I am really looking forward to another opportunity to go back, and hope
that the experience is just as positive. Viva la Mexico!?!
