Mexico is either fascinating or tiring to the point of thinking about leaving immediately. And then again I come across something so awesome that I want to stay. This has been happening over and over again.
For the first time in this whole journey we have some health problems – fever, stuffy nose, pain in sinuses, stomach and my injured knee on top of it. Despite slowing down the pace of our travel, whenever I check “distance walked” on my phone it shows more than 10 kilometers. And these stairs. Why all ruins must have stairs? Is it that the Mexicans (typically mush shorter than we are) wanted to compensate for their height? But then every time I finally climb all these stairs, the view compensates for everything.
The capital of Mexico is really huge. We are staying in the very heart of Centro Historico. First impression – endless sea of houses. And bazaars. Every street is lined with stalls. Quite like Warsaw in the ’80. Beautiful old houses, often looking like abandoned and almost collapsing. And murals, everywhere. Either Frida or Our Lady of Guadelupe in so many different arrangements. And old, worn off pants hanging above it, together with luchadores’ masks, cosmetics, flags, perfumes, jewellry and god knows what else.
It stinks shit. I nervously check my soles and wonder if it is me or someone else’s stomach problems but no! (what a relief). In every toilet in Mexico the paper is to be thrown into a separate bin, not into the toilet. I do not know if this is the aroma of these bins or sewage but there are… hot spots here and there 🙂
On weekends there are hordes of people everywhere. It is crowded like on a music concert with only difference that some participants walk glued to their screens hunting for Pokemon.
Sometimes the crowd circles around an empty space, enough to fit a few musicians and a little dance floor. The music is everywhere and whenever one hears it, there will be people dancing. Together. It is like a virus and each time I hear it I start bouncing a little, no matter if they play rock classics or local hits.
The noise on the streets is terrible. Apart from live bands, there are loudspeakers from bars or shops right on the pavement. Each playing its own tune, so loud like there is no tomorrow. Each cafe or restaurant has a TV, volume set to the maximum. Someone yells or praises the goods they sell or services they offer. Rolls, fresh rolls, phooones… Or a fakir doing his show in a metro car, on shattered glass. And then hair rollers, hair pins…
This folklore, despite making me so tired is also absolutely hilarious. It could be even better if people smiled more. Once you get to know someone, they are super-friendly and very helpful, even if they speak no English. Yet, strangers on the street just stare at you in such a way we have not seen before. We are not looking for adventures, we stay alert and safe during our whole stay but this uneasy feeling sticks with us for long.
The museums. The Queen is in awe. No matter whether it is Artes Populares or The Museum of Anthropology or the house of Frida Kahlo – I feel like a child left alone in a chocolate factory. And chocolate by the way is one of these genius Mexican inventions. I do not know how about the boys but I feel I will be back here one day.