The next morning it was cool again. The change of weather was probably due to the fact that Mexico City is 7200 feet high. We wanted to go downtown and explore some more. Because we were going to visit the Cathedral Bill suggested I wear a dress instead of slacks. You can take the boy out of the church but not the church out of the boy. Off we went to the bus stop to catch one of the electric busses to go downtown. NO MORE VW! We'd spent years teaching the boys to be respectful of their elders, pregnant women, etc. Well, forget all that. If you didn't shove, push and generally look out for yourself you didn't get on the bus. Keeping the seven of us together and on the same bus was a challenge. Bill shoved the older ones and I grabbed the younger ones and dragged them with me. Poor kids, I think, by the time this trip is over their arms will be 3 feet long. We found seats but …in different parts of the bus. It was a nice, modern bus, but way too small for the number of people who managed to get on it.
The passengers were another story. Neither John had found a seat. They were holding for dear life onto the straps hanging down from the ceiling. Randy was squeezed into a seat in front of me between a dour looking old woman in a heavy brown winter coat and a young man who was coatless but had on a red and black plaid flannel cowboy shirt and a black felt cowboy hat. As we started up he nudged Randy with his elbow and started to talk to him. A great deal of hand waving and a spray of spit accompanied every word. Randy leaned closer to the old woman, who pushed back and tried to ignore him. The guy kept poking at him until Randy responded by nodding and shrugging. Whatever he was saying must be funny cause the guy was laughing and grinning all the time he was talking. Then he stuck his grimy hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a nice, big, red chili pepper. He offered Randy a bite. Randy cringed and looked around trying to spot an empty seat. There weren't any. All he could do was shake his head and hold his hands up saying NO! NO! He was sitting as close to the severe woman as possible. She was staring down her nose at both of them and mumbling into her rosary beads. Ward off that devil.
Gil and Bill were sitting right behind the bus driver who kept turning around to talk to them. Seems he took a shine to Gil and asked him if he wanted to sit up front and help drive the bus. Bill had to restrain Gil who thought that was the best idea he had heard all day. The entire trip everyone talked to both Paul and Gil - must be ‘cause they were so “blond and cute.”
At each stop more people got on the already crowded bus. No one got off. I couldn't even see the Johns any more. I hoped they didn’t get pushed out the back door.
“Mom should I get up and give that lady my seat?” Paul is tugging at my arm. He pointed at a grandmotherly looking woman. I was afraid that if I let him get out of his seat I’d never see him again. So I said no and looked the other way.
Time to get off. Good! We could see the Johns and motioned to them to get off. This was as hard as getting on. Involved lots of pushing and shoving to get to the doors.
“Jeeze, I feel like I took a bath in tequila.” were the first words out of Randy’s mouth. “Did you see that guy and that chili? It smelled terrible.”
Bill grinned, “You should have taken it, offering a chili is just like offering a piece of gum. By not taking it you weren’t very polite.”
“Well, next time I’ll be sure to tell them to give you a bite.”
“Mom, the man asked me if I wanted to drive the bus and he really meant it. But Dad wouldn’t let me even try.” this from Gil who thought he was a big shot.
We were right downtown in Cathedral Square. Government buildings of Mexico took up two sides of the square, one side had Aztec ruins that were being excavated and the Cathedral was on the other. We got off the bus by the government buildings, so we were looking across the square at the Cathedral. It is enormous - larger than a city block in size.
“Look at the way it tilts.” John said as he pointed to the ends of the building. The ground under Mexico City is an old lakebed and parts of the city were slowly sinking. This was really apparent when you stood across the plaza and looked at the length of the Cathedral. Both end sections were sinking as the ground settled beneath them. The further from the center building the more pronounced the slant of the structure.
In front of the main church the square was crowded. There were the faithful coming to worship, tourists like ourselves, and beggars: women with children, men with dirty, oozing sores and/or without legs and children, bare-armed, barefoot and alone. Some of the older children approach Paul with boxes of gum in their dirty hands.
“Chiclets.” “Chiclets?” For once he was speechless. He had finally met someone he didn't want to talk to. Gil was making sure he stayed real close to Dad. This was a new experience for them. They had never seen people begging before.
The Cathedral was absolutely wondrous. I felt I could stand there looking at it for hours and not see everything. Over the years several different sections have been added to it. The first part of the church was built during the time of Cortez. One section is adobe. We could see the original building material where the outer coating was coming off. It was built of rocks held together with some type of mortar. Another whole section is completely covered with religious carvings and statutes. The walls are three to four feet thick in places. The doors are made of wood with wooden pegs and leather straps holding the planks together. The individual pieces of wood are twelve inches thick and 15 feet tall. Each massive door has a small, person size door cut into it. To go through this you have to step up and over the sill. We stepped over into the dark interior.
Incredible!
Inside was breathtaking. There are at least 12 altars all made of gold and decorated with precious jewels. We were all standing in hushed awe. Each section of the church has a main altar and several smaller altars along the sides. These too are gold. Paintings of saints and the holy family are wonders to behold. Some of the paintings had to be at least twenty feet high. There are giant pillars of marble soaring up to the ceilings fifty feet above the floor. Talk about feeling insignificant. I wondered what this place is worth? How many of those beggars could just one painting feed?
“Let’s go,” Paul whispers as he takes my hand. “I don’t like it in here. It’s scary.”
“Do you want to go out and get some chiclets?” I asked him. Well okay so sometimes I’m not very nice.
“NO.” He left me and went to Dad.
Back outside we bought a mango from one of the many pushcarts. How could something that looked so good taste so terrible? I didn’t know they put hot sauce on them. Ick. Yep, I was learning something new every day.
We crossed the street to visit the Aztec ruins that were being excavated. The sign said they were discovered when the city was putting in new sewer lines. Seems like the Spaniards had a habit of building on top of the Indian holy places. We looked around with amazement. There were paths leading between the foundations of buildings and stairways. Everything was build out of irregular cut rocks. The outer and inner edges were almost smooth. It was fascinating to walk through them and realize people were living there hundreds and hundreds of years ago. It made us recognize what a young country the U.S. is. If something is a hundred years old we call it a historical monument. The ruins over the ruins are over a hundred years old. These are historical monuments.
We left the ruins behind and went in search of the American Embassy. When we left home we told everyone that we would check there for mail when we got to Mexico City.
John Mc got a letter from home. It had MONEY in it. We had a letter from my Mom with a little more detail about the escrow on the house. Looks like it would really sell this time. Sure hope so.
She says she called one of Randy’s friends and no one knows anything about a copy of a yearbook for him. This brings about some ill-tempered glowering from him.
After our experience with the bus we made a decision to take the subway back to the campground. That was a very good idea. The subway stations are beautiful. The floors and walls are marble. The waiting areas in the stations have mosaic murals on the walls. It was quick and clean and not as crowded as the busses. Turned into a nice peaceful ride, no strange experiences. The closest station to the campground was about a mile from it. We got off to walk the rest of the way.
We were walking through a very nice residential neighborhood. The streets were cobblestone but wide and clean and there were sidewalks. There were lots of big trees and beautiful, impressive homes. Most of these were behind high fences topped with curly barbed wire or pieces of broken glass imbedded in cement. We discussed the fact that it would keep us out. Randy and John Mc were speculating on whether they were homes of diplomats or drug dealers. Just as we came to one of the gates it swung open and out rushed two men, back to back. They had on dark suits and were carrying machine guns. They paused to look up and down the street, machine guns pointing out. A white haired distinguished looking man slowly follows. We weren't sure what to do, hide behind a tree, put our hands up or run. Before we could make up our minds a big black car with tinted windows came around the corner and screeched to a stop, the doors opened and as fast as they appeared all three are gone.
“Drugs.” said Randy.
“Nope, politician.” countered John Mc.
“Who cares?” this from me. “Let’s just get out of here.”
We continued our walk (a little faster) along the street. Ahead was a charming plaza. White, yellow and gold flowers surrounded the crushed stone walkways. There was a whitewashed gazebo with wooden benches around it. Children ran up and down the steps laughing as they chased one another. Their parents sat in the shade and watched. I imagined this same scene has replayed daily since the plaza was built during the days of Cortez. The buildings on one side of the plaza are the original Spanish government buildings of Cortez. They were so covered with ivy and other creeping plants you could hardly see the stone they were built with. Under a tree by the gazebo was a shoeshine man. Gil and Paul skipped over to talk to him. He was clearly an older man. He had on an old military officer type hat and what hair I could see was more gray than black. His bushy gray eyebrows were in sharp contrast to his brown face. His smile was wide showing what white teeth he had left. His brown eyes twinkled. As he straightened up I saw that he was stooped shouldered, was it from age or from years of bending to shine shoes. He snapped his shoeshine rag to a tune from a portable radio that was under his bench.
Gil came running over to say the man offered to shine his cowboy boots. How could we resist? "Can I, can I?" he pleaded.
He ran back and climbed up on the chair and held his feet out. We all stood around and watched as the man first dusted Gil’s boots then rubbed the polish in. Lastly, with much popping of his rag, he shined them. I could see the trees reflected in them when he finished. From the effort he put forth one would think they were $1000 boots instead of a little boys. Bill gave Gil the money to pay him, but he grinned, shook Gil’s hand, and refused to take it.
Every few steps Gil stopped pulled up his pants legs and admired his boots.
As we continued our walk we passed a tortilla “factory,” two women and two shinny machines in what appeared to be one room of a house. The door was open so we stopped to watch. The women had on blue dresses and pink aprons; their hair was pulled back and covered with heavy black nets. Everything looked very clean. A big glob of dough got plopped into a large stainless steel bowl that sat on top of the machine. The dough came out of a funnel and a ball of it dropped on to a conveyer belt that went through the machine. When it came out on the other side there was a nicely formed corn tortilla. Every so often one would stop and pick up the formed tortillas and stack them by 12. We asked if we could take pictures. They smileed broadly and nodded yes. When we finished one offered us a freshly made tortilla.
A couple of blocks from the RV park we discovered a Chocolate and Churro café. It was cooler and our walk had made us hungry so we went in. Everyone ordered big mugs of rich chocolate with whipped cream and hot churros. It was delicious. Too bad we found it our last day here. As we left the cozy café a cold drizzle started to fall.
The next day we were going to leave for Acapulco, back to the warm weather.
took
The passengers were another story. Neither John had found a seat. They were holding for dear life onto the straps hanging down from the ceiling. Randy was squeezed into a seat in front of me between a dour looking old woman in a heavy brown winter coat and a young man who was coatless but had on a red and black plaid flannel cowboy shirt and a black felt cowboy hat. As we started up he nudged Randy with his elbow and started to talk to him. A great deal of hand waving and a spray of spit accompanied every word. Randy leaned closer to the old woman, who pushed back and tried to ignore him. The guy kept poking at him until Randy responded by nodding and shrugging. Whatever he was saying must be funny cause the guy was laughing and grinning all the time he was talking. Then he stuck his grimy hand into his shirt pocket and pulled out a nice, big, red chili pepper. He offered Randy a bite. Randy cringed and looked around trying to spot an empty seat. There weren't any. All he could do was shake his head and hold his hands up saying NO! NO! He was sitting as close to the severe woman as possible. She was staring down her nose at both of them and mumbling into her rosary beads. Ward off that devil.
Gil and Bill were sitting right behind the bus driver who kept turning around to talk to them. Seems he took a shine to Gil and asked him if he wanted to sit up front and help drive the bus. Bill had to restrain Gil who thought that was the best idea he had heard all day. The entire trip everyone talked to both Paul and Gil - must be ‘cause they were so “blond and cute.”
At each stop more people got on the already crowded bus. No one got off. I couldn't even see the Johns any more. I hoped they didn’t get pushed out the back door.
“Mom should I get up and give that lady my seat?” Paul is tugging at my arm. He pointed at a grandmotherly looking woman. I was afraid that if I let him get out of his seat I’d never see him again. So I said no and looked the other way.
Time to get off. Good! We could see the Johns and motioned to them to get off. This was as hard as getting on. Involved lots of pushing and shoving to get to the doors.
“Jeeze, I feel like I took a bath in tequila.” were the first words out of Randy’s mouth. “Did you see that guy and that chili? It smelled terrible.”
Bill grinned, “You should have taken it, offering a chili is just like offering a piece of gum. By not taking it you weren’t very polite.”
“Well, next time I’ll be sure to tell them to give you a bite.”
“Mom, the man asked me if I wanted to drive the bus and he really meant it. But Dad wouldn’t let me even try.” this from Gil who thought he was a big shot.
We were right downtown in Cathedral Square. Government buildings of Mexico took up two sides of the square, one side had Aztec ruins that were being excavated and the Cathedral was on the other. We got off the bus by the government buildings, so we were looking across the square at the Cathedral. It is enormous - larger than a city block in size.
“Look at the way it tilts.” John said as he pointed to the ends of the building. The ground under Mexico City is an old lakebed and parts of the city were slowly sinking. This was really apparent when you stood across the plaza and looked at the length of the Cathedral. Both end sections were sinking as the ground settled beneath them. The further from the center building the more pronounced the slant of the structure.
In front of the main church the square was crowded. There were the faithful coming to worship, tourists like ourselves, and beggars: women with children, men with dirty, oozing sores and/or without legs and children, bare-armed, barefoot and alone. Some of the older children approach Paul with boxes of gum in their dirty hands.
“Chiclets.” “Chiclets?” For once he was speechless. He had finally met someone he didn't want to talk to. Gil was making sure he stayed real close to Dad. This was a new experience for them. They had never seen people begging before.
The Cathedral was absolutely wondrous. I felt I could stand there looking at it for hours and not see everything. Over the years several different sections have been added to it. The first part of the church was built during the time of Cortez. One section is adobe. We could see the original building material where the outer coating was coming off. It was built of rocks held together with some type of mortar. Another whole section is completely covered with religious carvings and statutes. The walls are three to four feet thick in places. The doors are made of wood with wooden pegs and leather straps holding the planks together. The individual pieces of wood are twelve inches thick and 15 feet tall. Each massive door has a small, person size door cut into it. To go through this you have to step up and over the sill. We stepped over into the dark interior.
Incredible!
Inside was breathtaking. There are at least 12 altars all made of gold and decorated with precious jewels. We were all standing in hushed awe. Each section of the church has a main altar and several smaller altars along the sides. These too are gold. Paintings of saints and the holy family are wonders to behold. Some of the paintings had to be at least twenty feet high. There are giant pillars of marble soaring up to the ceilings fifty feet above the floor. Talk about feeling insignificant. I wondered what this place is worth? How many of those beggars could just one painting feed?
“Let’s go,” Paul whispers as he takes my hand. “I don’t like it in here. It’s scary.”
“Do you want to go out and get some chiclets?” I asked him. Well okay so sometimes I’m not very nice.
“NO.” He left me and went to Dad.
Back outside we bought a mango from one of the many pushcarts. How could something that looked so good taste so terrible? I didn’t know they put hot sauce on them. Ick. Yep, I was learning something new every day.
We crossed the street to visit the Aztec ruins that were being excavated. The sign said they were discovered when the city was putting in new sewer lines. Seems like the Spaniards had a habit of building on top of the Indian holy places. We looked around with amazement. There were paths leading between the foundations of buildings and stairways. Everything was build out of irregular cut rocks. The outer and inner edges were almost smooth. It was fascinating to walk through them and realize people were living there hundreds and hundreds of years ago. It made us recognize what a young country the U.S. is. If something is a hundred years old we call it a historical monument. The ruins over the ruins are over a hundred years old. These are historical monuments.
We left the ruins behind and went in search of the American Embassy. When we left home we told everyone that we would check there for mail when we got to Mexico City.
John Mc got a letter from home. It had MONEY in it. We had a letter from my Mom with a little more detail about the escrow on the house. Looks like it would really sell this time. Sure hope so.
She says she called one of Randy’s friends and no one knows anything about a copy of a yearbook for him. This brings about some ill-tempered glowering from him.
After our experience with the bus we made a decision to take the subway back to the campground. That was a very good idea. The subway stations are beautiful. The floors and walls are marble. The waiting areas in the stations have mosaic murals on the walls. It was quick and clean and not as crowded as the busses. Turned into a nice peaceful ride, no strange experiences. The closest station to the campground was about a mile from it. We got off to walk the rest of the way.
We were walking through a very nice residential neighborhood. The streets were cobblestone but wide and clean and there were sidewalks. There were lots of big trees and beautiful, impressive homes. Most of these were behind high fences topped with curly barbed wire or pieces of broken glass imbedded in cement. We discussed the fact that it would keep us out. Randy and John Mc were speculating on whether they were homes of diplomats or drug dealers. Just as we came to one of the gates it swung open and out rushed two men, back to back. They had on dark suits and were carrying machine guns. They paused to look up and down the street, machine guns pointing out. A white haired distinguished looking man slowly follows. We weren't sure what to do, hide behind a tree, put our hands up or run. Before we could make up our minds a big black car with tinted windows came around the corner and screeched to a stop, the doors opened and as fast as they appeared all three are gone.
“Drugs.” said Randy.
“Nope, politician.” countered John Mc.
“Who cares?” this from me. “Let’s just get out of here.”
We continued our walk (a little faster) along the street. Ahead was a charming plaza. White, yellow and gold flowers surrounded the crushed stone walkways. There was a whitewashed gazebo with wooden benches around it. Children ran up and down the steps laughing as they chased one another. Their parents sat in the shade and watched. I imagined this same scene has replayed daily since the plaza was built during the days of Cortez. The buildings on one side of the plaza are the original Spanish government buildings of Cortez. They were so covered with ivy and other creeping plants you could hardly see the stone they were built with. Under a tree by the gazebo was a shoeshine man. Gil and Paul skipped over to talk to him. He was clearly an older man. He had on an old military officer type hat and what hair I could see was more gray than black. His bushy gray eyebrows were in sharp contrast to his brown face. His smile was wide showing what white teeth he had left. His brown eyes twinkled. As he straightened up I saw that he was stooped shouldered, was it from age or from years of bending to shine shoes. He snapped his shoeshine rag to a tune from a portable radio that was under his bench.
Gil came running over to say the man offered to shine his cowboy boots. How could we resist? "Can I, can I?" he pleaded.
He ran back and climbed up on the chair and held his feet out. We all stood around and watched as the man first dusted Gil’s boots then rubbed the polish in. Lastly, with much popping of his rag, he shined them. I could see the trees reflected in them when he finished. From the effort he put forth one would think they were $1000 boots instead of a little boys. Bill gave Gil the money to pay him, but he grinned, shook Gil’s hand, and refused to take it.
Every few steps Gil stopped pulled up his pants legs and admired his boots.
As we continued our walk we passed a tortilla “factory,” two women and two shinny machines in what appeared to be one room of a house. The door was open so we stopped to watch. The women had on blue dresses and pink aprons; their hair was pulled back and covered with heavy black nets. Everything looked very clean. A big glob of dough got plopped into a large stainless steel bowl that sat on top of the machine. The dough came out of a funnel and a ball of it dropped on to a conveyer belt that went through the machine. When it came out on the other side there was a nicely formed corn tortilla. Every so often one would stop and pick up the formed tortillas and stack them by 12. We asked if we could take pictures. They smileed broadly and nodded yes. When we finished one offered us a freshly made tortilla.
A couple of blocks from the RV park we discovered a Chocolate and Churro café. It was cooler and our walk had made us hungry so we went in. Everyone ordered big mugs of rich chocolate with whipped cream and hot churros. It was delicious. Too bad we found it our last day here. As we left the cozy café a cold drizzle started to fall.
The next day we were going to leave for Acapulco, back to the warm weather.
took
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More of our Adventures in Mexico City
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.jpg "Downtown Mexico City")
