Mexico City December 13-17, 1978
Mexico City’s Metropol Hotel is a perfect reflection of the city itself. What it lacks in glamour and amenities it makes up for in a riot of colours: purple wall-paper, red-rug, orange and yellow swirl-checkered curtains and bed-spreads (on twin beds), and ‘matching’ orange and yellow vinyl sofa and chairs. Gay, but not restful. But sleep in this city is well-nigh impossible in any event – there is a constant cacophony of car and truck engines and horns; it seems Mexicans prefer to use their horns instead of brakes, turn signals or waves. And... there are so many cars. The streets are choked with them, and I am choking on their fumes. My nose, throat and eyes are constantly irritated by exhaust fumes, even in this room with all closed windows. It’s so pervasive.
I’ve spent my first few days here wandering around, taking in the sights and sounds of one of the largest, and densest, cities in the world. I’m struck by the similarities between Mexico City and Athens or Jerusalem. Dark, hole-in-the wall shops line both sides of the busy streets, selling everything from saddles inlaid with silver to electrical equipment to women’s clothes to coffee, fruit, cigarettes. And in amongst these car repair shops, dentists, tailors, lawyers and barbers. All jumbled together. At night great metal shutters are pulled down and locked to metal hoops on the sidewalk. Many of the streets become dark and decidedly unfriendly feeling places, while others come alive with food carts and street sellers.
I didn’t take any photos while I was in Mexico City – who knows why... – but found some good stock images by Carl Campbell on Unsplash that capture the flavour of what I saw and experienced there. Many thanks to Carl!
I appreciate the diversity of the built environment here – everything from simple adobe structures with red-tiled rooves to highly ornate, historical buildings – living museums still in use. Many ultra-modern high-rises as well, but not like Vancouver, where they have taken over the skyline, and made dark and windy canyons out of the streets below. There’s a nice, rich, varied and vibrant texture to Mexico City. And of course it helps that, because of the mild and mostly sunny climate, there are always people on the streets.
In Mexico City the people are as varied as the architecture: some very Spanish/European looking, many more Mayan, or perhaps another indigenous group (Aztec? Inca?); some almost Chinese-looking; and a few obviously gringo – likely American, Canadian or European expats, tourists, students or workers. For the most part the Mexican people are friendly – a bit reminiscent of the Arab people – a quiet friendliness and hospitality that comes on more fully when reciprocated. I suspect they’d be even friendlier if I were more conversant in Spanish, and I am continuing with my theory, and try, when I’m roaming around town, to listen to the cadence of the language and try to pick out individual words, to develop my ‘ear’. Spanish is enough like French, in terms of grammar, and many words – just add an ‘o’ or an ‘ito’ or an ‘amente’ and voila, it’s Spanish.
I met a young fellow on the bus coming in from the airport, who spoke excellent English. He was on his way back from two weeks in Russia, where he was meeting young Russian writers and scientists. His specialty is chemistry, but he is interested in everything, including politics. He gave me a small book of his short stories – ‘tales’ he calls them – in Spanish of course, so I’ll need to use my Spanish-English dictionary, and great deal of patience to read it. He invited me to go to Puebla with him. It’s a small town just south of Mexico City. We had a great day, filled with far-ranging and challenging conversations – Carlos is one of the brightest people I have ever met.
Note: the person I met was Carlos Chimal, a celebrated Mexican writer.
https://www.planetadelibros.com.mx/autor/carlos-chimal/000043080
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