Ciudad de México

By Chris Sarcletti

City: Mexico City

Mexico City is one of the largest cities in the world. It is an amazing, frenetic and sprawling metropolis of over 20 million people that nearly 1 in 5 Mexican citizens call their home. It isn’t a city as one typically envisions one. There isn’t a city center flanked by some boroughs where life varies drastically from the lives of people who reside in the outer suburban areas. Mexico City encompasses all of these areas -- downtown, surrounding central city districts and outer suburban towns.

Mexico City is a magnificent place with more to offer a visitor than they could ever imagine. It is also more than can be described in one article or one story or one book.

For those who wonder if they will be safe in Mexico City, I say be cautious – as you would be when traveling to any big city -- but have fun with no worries. Just like any large city, there are panhandlers and beggars, but the majority of people who stop you on the street will be doing so to ask if you need any assistance with directions.

For those who think the true jewels of Mexico are on the coast, I beg you to visit Mexico City and see its museums, pyramids, neighborhoods and markets to understand the significance of this city to every other part of Mexico.

For those who wonder if they will get sick from the food, I say to pull up a stool at a stall with the locals at one of the popular kitchens in the central market and indulge and smile as you will be enjoying one of Mexico’s great gifts to the world, their food. You can’t get away from it no matter where you are as the wonderful smell of corn tortillas is seemingly always in the air.

Come to the see the culture and intellect of this smart city and their smiling, helpful and kind people. Most of all, come to see the heart of Mexico. I would be foolish to describe it as anything else. This is the valley of Mexico, surrounded by mountains, and it is at the center of anything and everything that is Mexican. There are many wonderful things to see throughout Mexico but if a traveler wants to know Mexico and feel it in their heart, a visit to Mexico City is compulsory.

People

The smiling faces of children on the metro and in the streets. Many people who work at the vendor stalls and shops lining every street I walk down have their children with them. It is cute to see the children get so excited at the prospect of helping their parents with their daily work. The children seem to understand how hard their parents are working and want to help them in any way that they can.

I encounter kindness and hospitality everywhere. Locals recognize that I am a tourist when they see me standing near the entrance to a metro stop looking at the subway map in my guidebook. I am stopped on multiple occasions each day and asked if I need any assistance in finding my location.

On three different occasions on the same day, Mike and I are stopped by locals who instruct us to watch our bags and cameras as possible bandits are always looking for an unsuspecting tourist or local. I am touched by their genuine concern as they take a few moments out of their day to help a complete stranger.

There are children everywhere. Some cry as they lie in their mother’s or father’s arms on a crowded metro train while others laugh at the adoration lauded onto them by their parents. Whether they are happy or sad, there are lots of them. Mexican people have lots of children. There is no doubt about that.

There are loads of people everywhere. Over 1000 immigrants a day arrive from the rest of the country.

Culture

A zócalo is a central town square or plaza, usually located in Mexican cities. The most
famous zócalo is that of Mexico City, which is formally known as the Plaza de la Constitución. This is the city’s political and religious center.

The Palacio National is located in the zócalo and is home to some of Diego Rivera’s murals. These murals are amazing in their intricate details as well as in their size. I am mesmerized as I stand and look with so many other tourists, identifying specific figures like Karl Marx and Frida Kahlo in the massive painting in front of me. Other murals here tell stories of the Spanish conquest and depict the products like chocolate, maize and tobacco that the world owes to Mexico.

The Holiday Inn Zócalo rooftop bar offers amazing views of the city center below. As I relax with a cold, refreshing Sol in my hand, I take in the captivating views of the Palacio National, the Catedral Metropolitana – the largest church in Latin America - and the vast zócalo below me. It seems that I can see every minute detail as I stand at the edge of this rooftop bar overlooking this vast metropolis. I am particularly captivated by the gigantic Mexican flag that waves in the wind in the middle of the Plaza de la Constitución. It feels powerful, as if it is making a statement that this square is important and substantial to Mexico and to the world. It is also very large as it is the 2nd largest square of this type in the world after Moscow’s Red Square.

You need to experience authentic mariachi music in Plaza Garibaldi to really appreciate it and understand its significance to the people. Hundreds of mariachi band members stand waiting for an opportunity to entertain some tourists or locals for a fee; albeit a small one that is negotiable. The band members are dressed in colorful outfits with vests and hats and they have their instruments by their sides. Sitting in this wonderful square is a great way to salt away an afternoon or evening over a few beers with sounds of mariachi music all around, if not directly in front of you. I am lucky enough to be serenaded by an old man who looks to be about 70. All he has with him is a guitar as he approaches me after spotting me sitting outside at a local bar waiting for my friends to arrive. He walks up and holds his finger out to indicate that he wants to play one song. I shake my head up and down and smile. He sings a tune and plays the guitar for a few minutes. After he completes the first song, he continues on with one more. The music is decent but what I really enjoy is the pride that he has in the music that he creates. He has dignity and passion. After he finishes, I hand him 50 pesos. He smiles and says “Gracias” before walking away. As he walks away, it occurs to me that he is probably heading home as he is headed in the direction that takes you out of the square. I guess he is happy that he got to sing a couple songs and make a little bit of money before calling it an evening.

The beautiful tree lined streets near Polanco are full of unending charm. You can tell that this area is exclusive as you see lush trees, well maintained gardens and children of wealthy parents driving around in small electric cars. Each street seems to be more pleasant than the next making this an ideal spot for a nice stroll. Each restaurant and shop seems to have as much character as the street it sits on.

The Bellas Artes is a magnificent architectural achievement that would feel just as at home if it were sitting on a square in London or Paris or Rome. With a pastel yellow and orange colored dome that catches one’s eye, this marble covered building houses amazing murals amid impressive domes. In addition, the Palacio de Bellas Artes is Mexico City’s premier opera house. As I walk in and make my way up the first set of stairs, I look around at the impressive interior. The lighting and art deco style draws my attention to the marble walls, staircases and flooring. I think there is as much marble inside as there is covering the exterior of the building. As I turn the corner on the staircase to go up another floor, I find myself looking squarely at a massive painting. It is very hard to conceptualize how long it would take someone to paint such a large and detailed painting. As I stare at the painting, thoughts of Picasso’s Guernica -- that I saw years ago at the Reina Sofia museum in Madrid -- run through my head. The 1st and 2nd floor walls are covered in murals by Diego Rivera, Rufino Tamayo, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and José Clemente Orozco. As I walk around alternating my gaze between the domes above and paintings in front of me, I come to a screeching halt when I see Rivera's Man at the Crossroads mural. This mural was originally painted for the Rockefeller Center in New York City. Rivera had finished ⅔ of the mural when the Rockefellers objected to an image of Vladimir Lenin in the mural. The commission was cancelled and the mural was destroyed. Rivera repainted it on a smaller scale at the Palacio in 1934 and renamed it Man, Controller of the Universe. This mural is particularly interesting because the details within it begin to explain Rivera’s theories on the evils of capitalism and virtues of socialism.

I am 25 miles, or one and a half hours northeast of Mexico City, staring at the 3rd largest pyramid in the world. Who would have known that such things existed in any place other than Egypt? Teotihuacan feels much different than any place I have ever visited. As I walk down the Avenue of the Dead and look at the Pyramids of the Sun and Moon, I realize this. The Pyramid of the Sun was built around 100 AD from 3 million tons of stone without the use of metal tools, pack animals or the wheel. Teotihuacán was, at its height in the first half of the 1st millennium, the largest pre-Columbian city in the Americas. The name Teotihuacán is also used to refer to the civilization or culture that this city was the center of, which at its greatest extent included much of central Mexico. As I begin my ascent up to the top of the Pyramid of the Sun, I quickly realize that the best way to tackle such a steep climb is to do so quickly. When I arrive at my destination, I am rewarded with sprawling views of distant mountains and the Pyramid of the Moon. However, the best views are below me as I see a parade of school children on a field trip making their way up the Avenue of the Dead towards the pyramid which I am now on top of. As I watch this parade, I picture a group of natives from Teotihuacán from a time long ago making this same trek.

Food

Karisma Cantina in Polanco is located off of a busy circular turnabout outside the Hotel Intercontinental. They have wonderful traditional dishes like enchiladas with green and red sauce on top of corn tortillas filled with pork and chicken. All of the dishes served here are topped with slices of wonderful avocado that is so perfectly ripe that it is creamy and melts in your mouth like butter. There chips are also very good and they are served with 3 different types of salsa that compliment each other perfectly. The Pico de Gallo has a combination of ripe red tomatoes, small pieces of fresh jalapeno, cilantro and onion. The spicy salsa is a red pureed combination of onions and peppers. The third salsa variation provides a perfect contrast to the other two. This red burgundy colored salsa has a sweet, faintly spicy and slightly smoky flavor. I enjoy combining a little spoonful of each on top of a crispy chip well over a hundred times as I come here specifically for the salsa on three different occasions.

At another restaurant in the Polanco neighborhood, we have wonderful barbacoa. Traditionally, barbacoa is meat that is slowly cooked over an open fire. Today, the meat is sometimes steamed until it is tender instead. The lamb shoulder or shank meat used arrives on our table in a large pile of shredded strands of meat covered with tin foil to keep it warm. The lamb is served with red, green and a very pungent and flavorful chipotle salsa. All of this wonderful goodness is wrapped together into fresh corn tortillas that are being made by a woman working around the corner from our table in the restaurant. She is using a machine that churns tortillas out like little pancakes before they are warmed on a hot griddle. Seconds later they are on our table.

While walking through the market in the Coyoacan neighborhood, we see the UEFA Cup Champions League final playing on a TV next to Tostadas Coyoacan. I see the game but my real focus is on the tantalizing dishes on display at this indoor kitchen in the market. We find a few counter top seats, sit down and gaze in awe at platter after platter of the fresh, scrumptious looking seafood salads. My eyes are fixated on the octopus and shrimp platters. We order 2 tostadas piled high with shrimp and octopus salad with a slice of avocado topping each one. Along with a bottle of coca cola, we indulge in a wonderful afternoon snack.

Jugos Canada is a small restaurant on busy Cinco de Mayo avenue in the zócalo that specializes in tortas and fresh juices. We come here to have a torta roll. The one I select is stuffed with chicken, pork and a host of vegetables. It is all topped with slices of avocado and is held together by cheese. I take it upon myself to provide the rest of condiments in the form of a few scoops of jalapenos and carrots that marinate in the small containers that sit along the counter that surround the exterior of the restaurant. It is at this counter where we sit and enjoy our lunch. As a compliment to my sandwich, I order a fresh juice shake made with water instead of milk. I select a combination of fresh strawberries, pineapple and oranges from the vast array of different fresh fruits on display. The juice is naturally sweet and refreshing. It tastes all the better considering it was made fresh before my eyes.

There is nothing like pulling up a chair at a stall in the central city market to eat with the locals. As I walk about and try to pick one place to enjoy lunch amongst a seemingly endless row of food vendors all serving delicious looking things, I finally find a spot that catches my eye. Mike and I look at each other and smile. Our smiles indicate to each other that this is the place where we will have lunch. We are both drawn to this restaurant after seeing the huge witch size cauldron of chicken stew cooking behind the counter. We pull out 2 stools from the counter and sit down. As we sit down, a few locals make eye contact with us and smile. I look at the bowl in front of the man next to me. It is filled with chunks of chicken and rice amongst broth. He has topped it with chilies from the bowl in front of him and he is using corn tortillas to put it all together. Mike and I both indicate to the man working behind the counter that we want whatever the guy next to us is having. The man behind the counter smiles and within minutes we have a bowl of chicken and rice and garbanzo beans in front of us. We enjoy a simple, yet wonderful lunch sitting in the middle of the most magnificent market I have ever seen. Most importantly, we enjoy it with the locals as there isn’t a tourist in sight.

The street is like one big restaurant. On every street at every corner, there is something for sale. Some of the things look great like a freshly cooked blue corn quesadilla filled with chicken and white cheese topped with green salsa. Others don’t luck so appetizing such as the layers upon layers of tacos in large wicker baskets that look like they have been sitting there for days. The grease tells me as much. There are grocery carts loaded with any beverage you might possibly want and other carts where someone will squeeze you a fresh orange juice right there on the spot on the side of the street. It is not really a matter of whether you will find something that you want to try. It is just a matter of finding a vendor that is serving something you just can’t seem to pass by without stopping.

As we walk through the streets surrounding Plaza Garibaldi, Mike and Melissa decide to buy fresh watermelon from a hawker on the street. The hawker chops it up, puts in a cup and does his usual routine. He puts a couple of shakes of salt on top, squeezes fresh lime juice over the container and then sprinkles chili powder over the top. We are all a bit surprised by the condiments he uses. Mike takes this order and Melissa orders a second one without the chili powder and salt bath. As I watch, I wonder to myself if this would taste good or not. Eventually, I decide that this looks too interesting to pass up and tell the vendor to make me one with pineapple instead of watermelon. He says, “Chili?” as he squeezes a lime over the top and I say, “Si, gracias.” As I walk through the streets and eat one pieces of ripe, sweet pineapple after another, I notice that the chili powder is a nice compliment to the sweetness of the pineapple.

Mexican beers may never win any awards when they are stacked up next to their German, Czech and Belgium counterparts. That said, I can’t remember enjoying having a nice cold cerveza in my hand as much as I did during the week I spent in Mexico City. Enjoying many beers each afternoon and evening, I quickly came to the conclusion that there is no better way to enjoy a sunny afternoon than with a glass filled with cold beer, a few squeezes of fresh lime juice and a shake of salt. Just like the locals do. Whether it be Sol, Victoria, Corona, Pacifico, Dos Equis or Negro Modelo, it is all good.

Colors

The Frida Kahlo Blue House is beautiful in so many ways. The artwork inside is impressive as is the tasteful, colorful décor. The exterior of the house and the courtyard are what really draw me in. As I walk up to the house, it is impossible not to be drawn to the dark blue exterior walls which are perfectly accented by an array of different colors which make this house stand out – whether you are up close or far away. Every other color that meets the blue which prevails leaves a contrast that is hard not to be impressed by. Whether it is the burnt umber colored floors that meet the blue walls or the green painted iron gates covering the windows, the juxtaposition of colors on display in the Blue house is symbolic of much of this colorful city.

The walk from one pleasant and affluent Mexico City borough, San Angel, to another, Coyoacan. The stucco exterior walls, doors and gates all converge in an endless display of tastes in color. Time after time, I pull out my camera to snap shots of a pastel yellow colored building next to an orange or blue one. As I walk on, I can’t help but gaze at the colors of the flowers which protrude from the bright blue pots which sit against brownish red and orange exteriors. One after another, I am pleasantly surprised. It seems that each homeowner has put their best effort forth to outdo their neighbor when they put their last coat of paint on the door, façade or gate of their home. From a lion head door knocker to a weaving rope door handle that opens a wooden gate, creativity is a part of every detail in the homes in this area.

The colors of the market are amazing. There are so many of them and the colors seem to blend together to make for something truly beautiful. As I walk amid the wonder of Mexico’s largest and most famous market, I notice red chili peppers next to even redder ones beside dark green poblano peppers and lighter green tomatillos. There are piles upon piles of orange, green and greenish yellow bell peppers next to each other. In another area, I stare at the array of dried goods in front of me. There is green mole powder next to red chili powder next to white powdered milk. I turn the corner and see what looks to be half of a block worth of watermelon stalls. I don’t think I have ever seen greener watermelon and in front of each stall, the pinkish watermelon flesh is on display. The deep pink color is in great contrast to the glistening green skin of literally hundreds of watermelons which are stacked behind it. In another area, there are bushels upon bushels of garlic and onions next to each other. There is purple garlic next to white garlic and yellow onions and of course the beautiful red onion. Is there anything like the dark purple color of a red onion? It adds such color to a market and such flavor to a dish. There are colorful piñatas of superheroes like Spiderman, Bugs Bunny and famous Mexican wrestlers that fly over my head as I continue to walk on, peering in every direction at the fruits, vegetables and pieces of pink pork and white chicken that are all around me.

Energy

The streets are frenetic with seemingly every avenue constituting some sort of market. One street after another in the zócalo is lined with vendors selling anything and everything. The range of products is endless from batteries to sunglasses to pirated CDs and DVDs. In between, there are stores selling infant and children’s clothes and toys. One stall after another advertises cute dresses and adorable Mexican national soccer team outfits. The sounds and smells of the street are distinctive as the aromas of meat and vegetables grilling on hot coals in the air are easy to pick out amongst the smell of grilled corn tortillas. Walking along, smelling the food, my ears hear the constant hollering of vendors making their pitch to the prospective customers that pass by in an endless stream. People work tirelessly displaying their goods and clamoring to get someone passing by to look at them. If the clouds begin to rumble and the skies open up, they act quickly to close their shop by gathering all of their displayed goods underneath a tarp to protect them from the rain. They work quickly and are quick to accept a fair offer. They are just as quick to reject an unreasonable one made by a local or tourist thinking they can undercut a vendor.

The Metro system is very easy to use and the trains arrive with amazing frequency. Every time I walk up to a platform, a train seems to arrive within a minute of my standing there. Despite the frequency of the trains, none of the cars are empty. There is usually a place to stand but the cars are almost always filled to capacity. The atmosphere on the trains is like nothing I have ever seen. There are entrepreneurs of some sort or another on every train. Some sell chicklet gum packets or different types of candies. There is always a musician amongst the people on the train. A man or woman carries with them a boom box that plays a variety of different tunes. As they walk through the train, they skip from one song to the next to give a sampling of the songs they are offering on the CD’s that they hold in their hand. There are Latin tunes interspersed with cheesy American and British ones like those by the Bee Gees, Village People or a forgotten hip hop artist like Soul II Soul. The music is actually a nice compliment to the doldrums of the subway ride and every vendor I see seems to sell at least a few CDs for 10 to 15 pesos a piece.

The traffic on the street is endless at times. Usually I can find a light with a walk signal. The walk signals have 60 second clocks and a neat picture of a man attempting to walk across the street. Near my hotel in Polanco, there are long stretches between intersections with lights and I often resort to jay walking. This isn’t my first choice but I realize that I could stand here for 10 minutes straight if I don’t make a move. I am careful and sure of foot though as one slip could result in disaster as the oncoming traffic is unforgiving.

Just like the hoards of people and continuous stream of always arriving metro cars and traffic, the energy in Mexico City is never-ending. The surprises are endless too. Mexico City is full of them and I have been fortunate to at least taste some of the Mexican capital’s charms.