To the heart of México

At 9am on a November Sunday, when the city was not awake yet, my cab stopped in front of the airport. Sunglasses on top of my head and a smile on my lips, I started walking with light and fast steps, wheeling a small, pink suitcase behind me… full with skimpy little summer clothes and bathing suits. Yeah! I see you smiling… I stopped in front of the AeroMéxico desk greeting in Spanish my dear Christian, at duty much earlier than me. Chris is the roommate of the ex-boyfriend of the girl that my sister shared an apartment with during her study abroad year in Barcelona, Spain, and whom we’ve found in San Diego, CA a few years latter. Now, he was the one that took care of the details for my trip, way south of the border, to his home country.

An hour later I was already in seat 1A, Business Class this time, with a glass of jugo de naranja in my hand, browsing through a presentation magazine for Mexico and curiously waiting to meet my travel companion. Unluckily, I’ve got the most annoying, impolite and blunt traveler equipped with a combo of Dorobanţi Blvd. pair of shoes and the breath of a very long night in Gaslamp District. Thanks Heavens, he felt a sleep as soon as the plane took off! So, I could admire in silence the identical image I saw on maps, now in front of my eyes, of the city/port of San Diego while the plane left Lindbergh Field … and two hours later, when we landed in Los Cabos, the one of the pick of Baja California dipping in the perfect turquoise of the Pacific.

Cabos turned out to be a short stop, good enough to get into the atmosphere and to get the Mexican stamp on the passport. Everybody that works in the airport is extremely kind. Amazingly, the laziness and the Latino calm didn’t seam to annoy behind the genuine smiles. There was no track of disgust like in Tijauna, in this oasis at the end of the desert, but only elegance and good will.

The second part of the trip to Mexico City brought me a Belcalian-type^* of trip companion. A chatty guy, between ages, who pretended to be a lawyer, owner of the Cruz Azul football team, linked to a few high end hotels and involved in concrete businesses in Mexico. What can I say?! too much information for a two hours flight. Anyways, before we landed in the capital I already had enough details about the city as well as the phone number of my companion, along with the invitation to fly with his helicopter to the concrete plant and hotels at the Pacific coast… whereas I was headed to the opposite direction.

... I was heading to a city full of history, culture, people with different features and pasts, dust, cars... life. The exploration started in a car full of noisy and happy girls reunited after four years. One was driving, another was playing the guide, and I was snapping pictures of a city always moving. Switched from English to Spanish, which I surprisingly manage very well! In the sound of our intertwined voices we left the Benito Juárez airport, passed the outskirts of the city and headed to Paseo de la Reforma – the bulevard that divides the capital Ciudad de México.

Before arriving here, all I had in mind were the independence angel statue and the other huge flag similar to the one in Tijuana. But, driving through Plaza de las Tres Culturas I learned that in México (the local name for the city), actually three cultures are traditionally melting: the pre-Columbian, the Spanish and the Mexican one, resulted from the first two. One can find here Tenochtitlan temples, ruines of Spanish conquistadors, and political parties’ modern buildings. No wonder this is the city with most muzeeums in the world, and largest quantity of culture per capita.

We circled the downtown framed by Paseo de la Reforma, Alemada Park and the central square. It is incredible how many cultural elements can be found at every step. The entire square is surrounded by Spanish architecture buildings which serve as ministers’ offices nowadays. Others are just breathing art. Casa de los Azulejos or the “house of tiles” is a restaurant of an almost European beauty, rich in culture and history, older than the Mexican revolution. Palacio de Bellas Artes built in art nouveau style is ‘la piece de resistance’ of the historical downtown. I had never seen it before in any of my friends’ pictures. I didn’t know anything about it and therefore it became the first reason to return to México City. The building deserves to be discovered entirely – as a lyric theatre, as a permanent art collection, as a host of Rivera’s work, and as the Museum of National Architecture of Mexico. In the center of the square, raises the proud twin of the flag I saw in Tijuana – one of the largest and tallest examples of national pride. Having in mind the dimensions of the other one and the impact it provokes when saw even from the US land, compared to the immensity of the central square that seams to mirror the immensity of Mexico itself, the grandeur sadly disappeared… However, the place still has that vibe of a meeting place for youngsters like Piccadilly Circus in London, St Michel in Paris, Plaça Catalunya in Barcelona or University Square home...

Following the traffic on Paseo de la Reforma we finally saw the towering column of the independence angel, the symbol of the capital. Rolling down to the park/forest Bosque de Chapultepec, the prime water resource of the Aztecs in the past and the main fresh air resource of Mexicans today – the Center park-like green oasis offers the chance to change the stereotype against Mexico as a third world country to a modern one with a envied civilization. The park hosts castles, gardens, monuments, artesian fountains, museums, royal hunting areas, a zoo, a lake, restaurants, and recreation spots.

As night felt, we left the busy downtown for the outskirts of San Ángel si Cayoacán. The artist Diego Rivera and his wife, Frida Kahlo lived in San Ángel, and because of their impact the town became historical monument of Mexico. In Cayoacán I was to spend the evening and night before my Mayan experience. Here is where the artist transformed in popular feminine hero, Frida Kahlo was born and died. Here is where we walked through typical Mexican bazaars with sugary fruits, traditional delights, souvenirs, parks and terraces filled with people even in the late hours of night. Still, what surprised me the most was the fact that the mass at Iglesia de San Juan Bautista – the main cathedral – was still on, that Sunday night, even after 7pm…

I ended the night in my friends’ living room, learning how to drink tequila Mexican style, as a medical remedy and without morning repercussions.

^* Gigi Becali is a controversial Romanian EU Parliament member, an “urban character”, who owns the Steaua Bucuresti soccer team and some real estate business. However, as his base profession he is a shepherd.