Traveling comfortably is not my usual style but when it happens it is welcomed. No unearthly hours were involved in getting to Mexico City and installing myself in the old-fashioned heritage Hotel Isabel in the historic center.
With a prearrangement with Edye Hanen and partner David, I was picked up the next day for a trip out to the canals of Xochimilco in the heart of the city.On board one of the brightly decorated boatsweleisurely driftedthe waterways, experiencing the best the early morning has to offer. Herons, undisturbed by too much activity, poised elegantly as though waiting to be photographed. Vendors slowly prepared their food and wares for the expected visitors. Mariachis drifted by wanting to serenade us but we were more captivated by a grandmotherly flower seller with long pigtails. She offered us little posies of roses artistically tied with ribbon. David bought one for less than $2.
From the canals we went to Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera'sBlue House, now a museum (it was here that Frida was born and died.) One could wander through rooms full of paintings, photographs, books and artist's toolsand imagine life as it was led. Perhaps the most moving room was the one with her four poster bed, with an overhead mirror, where Frida lay when she was bed-ridden.
The following day, on my own again, I set out early to explore the historic centre starting at the Zocalo with it's magnificent cathedral. Outside, descendants of ancient Aztecs performed purification rituals and for a small fee wouldsmudgeyou with herbs. Whole families sat around eating food from the many street vendors. Deciding to get lost, I found myself down a side street in front of the Museum of Culture, where there was currently an exhibit of Indian art, with statues and paintings from collections around the world. It seems like if I can't get to India, it will come to me.
The Bellas Artes Pallacio, also a grand opera house, isan architectural beauty with anelegant art deco interior. It houses huge murals from Diego Rivera and others and currently a photo exhibit by famous photographer Paul Strand. It kept me enthralled for four hours and I was oblivious to a huge rainfall that had taken place until I came outside to walk in puddles.
A Saturday night in the historic center is when thousands of people walk the streets. Here, some locals dress up in wild costumes, among them I saw Edward Scissorhands with tangled hair and his long scissor fingers and other colourful characters. For a few pesos you can pose with them while a friend takes a photo.
That day, I walked from 8 a.m. until 9:30 p.m. without a moment of not being impressed by this city. On Sunday, Edye, David and I took the three and a half hour bus ride to San Miguel de Allende, our home away from home for now.
KAMI KANETSUKA
SPECIAL TO THE UNDERCURRENT
