Experience the Beautiful Confusion
Over the four-day President's Day weekend, I was in another world: Mexico City. It's one of the most populous cities in the world, with more than 20 million people. While there I saw incomparable sights such as the Angel of Independence Monument, the Diana the Huntress Fountain, the Villa de Guadalupe Basilica, and the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral. I went to unrivaled museums such as the National Museum of Anthropology, which houses the original Sun Stone (Aztec Calendar) and the Palace of Fine Arts, home to murals by Diego Rivera and Clemente Orozco. More than all that, though, was my immersion in the life and culture of Mexico City. Trekking an ancient metropolis for four consecutive days was something I had never done before.
Getting around was quite the adventure. Mexico City has a metro system with 12 lines that run through the entire city. Although it sounds convenient, there are few functioning escalators or elevators in the stations and getting around can be quite daunting for the first-time visitor or the disabled. My mother and I settled on taking taxis and buses to sightsee. Even if you think you know the country's language and exchange rate, you can get gypped, as we were twice by peso-hungry taxi drivers.
Milton Martinez, Secretary of Culture, Mexico City
This year marks the centennial of Mexico's constitution, which was approved on February 5th, 1917. Strolling down a city street, my mom and I enjoyed an exhibit posted along the fences of the large city park, Bosque de Chapultepec, celebrating the constitution. The exhibit displayed pictures of congress gatherings in town squares, portraits of the contributing authors of the document, a photo of the document itself, and under each a caption in Spanish. We were literally walking through history. To think that a country of this size has only had its body of fundamental principles for a relatively short time is quite challenging. Imagine if the United States were fighting a domestic war and ratifying our constitution only one hundred years ago.
Thinking about Mexico City, words like lingering fumes, pollution, kidnapping, traffic, and crime come to mind. However, only a couple of the city's stereotypes proved true: thick air pollution and the pungent smell of gasoline. I felt incredibly safe; the citizens were warm and welcoming; there were no visible signs of violence or danger. I learned new things about the city that you cannot fully comprehend unless you have been there. The main thing was the disorderly and brazen driving. Not many streets have lanes and there is literal bumper to bumper and bumper to fender traffic. The honking never stops, nor do the cars at red lights. Pedestrians play a game called "try not to get hit by the speeding car while crossing." However, the locals have become accustomed to that style of driving and heavy traffic. Taking advantage of the gridlock, children and missionaries will often come up to your window and sell everything imaginable.
Fortunately, though, there is a bright side amidst the chaos. Every Sunday morning, Ave Paseo de la Reforma, the city's main artery (most similar to Ygnacio Valley Road), is closed to car traffic. Instead, it’s bustling with bikers, walkers, joggers, and skaters. The street has many fountains and monuments that serve as a good meeting spot or a place to eat an ice cream with friends. My mom and I went to the Angel of Independence during the golden hour of Saturday evening and photobombed our way through three Quinceañera photo shoots on the stairs and platform of the monument. Looking up at the golden angel and trying to grasp the extent of its symbolism to the Mexicans is a task not even the blaring horns of cars and mariachi tour buses could disrupt.
While traversing Chapultepec Park, my mom and I found beauty in the many lakes, trees, and plants of the botanical gardens. The incessant street vendors on both sides of the walks bombarded us with speedy catch phrases and pick-up lines in soft and loud, high and deep voices. For a Sunday in the park, this dichotomy was unexpected. Street vending is obviously one of the main fruits of the Mexican economy. The most interesting thing was that the vendors were not targeting solely tourists, but the locals too.
Another pleasant surprise was people's generosity and sociability. I had the pleasure of asking locals about "the Trump situation," As I chatted with taxi drivers and waiters, they expressed worry about the situation in America. They thought their president, Peña Nieto, was being too soft to Trump regarding paying for the wall. One taxi driver, Óscar, told me that there will be a presidential election in Mexico in 2018. I learned that Peña Nieto would not be running again for a second term because of his health problems and low approval ratings. It was also comforting when I asked a local for directions. Two or more people would instantly amass and try to help me. I realized first hand that the gracious people of Mexico are no different from us, even if we are geographically divided by a border.
To give you an idea of the sociopolitical atmosphere, while walking from the grandiose Metropolitan Cathedral to the Palace of Fine Arts, we were surrounded by police officers piled in truck beds and lined up with riot shields at the ready on both sidewalks of the street. Perhaps it was in anticipation of star musician Miguel Bosé's concert, or the officials expected another protest against President Trump, like the one from a week prior.
Mexico City is home to a large LGBTQ+ community, which is centered in a section of the Zona Rosa barrio. My mom and I unintentionally walked through the neighborhood and found it to be very upbeat and friendly. I heard EDM and Reggaeton blasting from discotecas and saw crowded terraces with people laughing and drinking mescal at 5:30 in the afternoon. Public displays of affection were very common, as I saw people making out in parks and on street benches.
Economically speaking, there is a big gap between rich and poor from one neighborhood to another. I remember our ride to the airport. It began in the city's richest district, the Polanco, where we passed postmodern hotels and buildings. Later, from the freeway, we caught glimpses of small barrios with graffiti-covered, defunct buildings. We whizzed by cramped condo rooftops filled with clothes hanging out to dry and old-school, outdoor TV antennas. Have you ever seen that in Walnut Creek? We noticed multiple murals branded by Converse. There, from one wall to the next, was a singular Chuck Taylor sneaker, each of a varying bright color. To me, this symbolized the one ray of hope for young boys and girls in a gritty barrio.
My trip was very eye-opening and helped me gain a deeper appreciation for the art, culture, and history of Mexico City. For me, living there would be tough, but visiting this other world is something I would highly recommend. Doing so made me feel more grateful for the luxury of living in the United States and in the Bay Area. So, get out there and experience the unknown, the foreign! I did - and I loved every minute of the beautiful confusion.
