As a kid who grew up in rural California, I'll admit I have limited experience in subways, metros or whatever you want to call them. In California, we don't do public transportation well. We are a car culture. I've been on BART several times, and I rode the metro in Montreal once. In Montreal, I think we might have traveled free simply on the basis that the French speaking ticket seller finally gave up on trying to communicate with us and shoved some tickets at us. In very limited circumstances ignorance can pay off.
In general, my expectation with subway systems is that I would be exposed to some crazy stuff like this:
That guy looks rather comfortable in his own skin, don't ya think? Notice there isn't anybody within 10 feet of him. Hey crowd just behind him, there lots of space next to the reptile wielding guy in the overly long cargo shorts! No takers? And what's with the cash appearing in the lower left hand part of this picture. I have no rational explanation for the cash in the bag other than to conclude that is bait for Slimy the Snake. Would be thieves, you are being baited.
Or maybe I was expecting something more like this?
Nah, this guy is clearly one of America's finest. Mexico is a Catholic culture. You won't get treated to this kind of overt, chubby, drunken sexuality in Mexico. Rather, the subway in Mexico City is dull. Its most negative aspect is that it is very, very crowded. Those 21 million people have to get around some way, right?
It costs you five pesos (about 30 cents) to ride, and you can go anywhere within the metro system on those five pesos. We had many, many metro trips, but on this first day we were off to Chapultepec Park. Chapultepec means "grasshopper hill" in Nahuatl, the native tongue of the Aztecs. Still spoken today by millions, by the way.
The Park is stunning. It is the largest public park in Latin America. It has botanical gardens, lakes, a theme park, the Museo Anthropologia and Chapultepec Castle. The hill at Chapultepec juts out amongst the forestland. It was a retreat area for the Aztec rulers and also served as their burial place. In true "I show you no respect" Spanish fashion, the Spaniards built a castle right on the spot. I think the phrase is that "haters are gonna hate" or something like that.
Given the vast size of the Bosque de Chapultepec, the Spanish name for the Park, we were fortunate enough to pile out of the metro right across from the castle (the "Castillo"). And now you have learned a Spanish word which you are unlikely to use! As noted above, the Castillo sits on the hill so it is readily picked out from the surrounding forested area. See the below photo as Exhibit A.
Just behind the white marble monument you see in the foreground, we were introduced to what I'm going to call the Mexican Attack Squirrel. As noted in the blog for Day 1, I found no tangible difference between the Mexican cat (el gato malo) and the American cat (also bad cat). Both are content to ignore you. Not so with the squirrel. I have extensive experience with the American squirrel, so I speak as an expert in these matters mind you. The American squirrel is surly ... no doubt. However, they give you warning if you walk beneath their tree. Another thing ... the American squirrel is a coward. Rather than attack you physically, they prefer to attack from a distance. Thus, the pine cone bits (and, at times, full cones) they toss at me from on high on a regular basis as I try to wheel the garbage bins out to the street.
The Mexican Attack Squirrel is not a coward. He will make a calculated physical attack by feigning all sorts of cuteness ,and then jump right on you. The sharp squirrelly teeth are sure to follow the alarming sense of squirrel feet (some kind of combination between a foot and fingers) on your body. Doubt me do you? We witnessed one such red bellied Mexican Attack Squirrel assault a child. A child for God's sake, and this shameful assault was launched right in front of the boy's mother. We came across some Americans feeding these furry little vicious bastards. We warned them, but I didn't want to stay and see the inevitable carnage that would occur once the Mexican Attack Squirrel realized that they had no more food to provide.
So, Travel Tip #1: Avoid the Mexican Attack Squirrel. Ignore my advice at your peril, my friends.
If you are a real wimp, you can pay to get on a shuttle to the top of Chapultepec. Take a second look at the picture. It isn't that high up! Walk it. It is a quarter mile at most. Granted, that's a tough quarter mile if you are trying to make an attack on the Castillo as the U.S.A. (listen closely to the Marine Corps anthem) and the French (how is this possible?) did at different times. However, I come not as a conqueror, but as a tourist who has just been traumatized by a squirrel attack on a child. I mean no harm, and I just needed to walk off the memory of the squirrel attack. Up we go!
Our good friend Diego Rivera makes an appearance at the Castillo with murals of revolution. The first represents a conquistador slaying an Aztec eagle knight, and the second is from the Mexican Revolution expelling the French.
PS: I'm incapable of taking a good picture of art. I admit to an alarming lack of caring in this regard. I'm a mess.
It strikes me that the history of Mexico is rife with conquest, revolution, conquest and so on. Our own country was certainly not immune from this cycle of violence, but Diego Rivera's art really brings the message home for Mexico.
The Castillo gives you a rather commanding view of the city.
Take note of the air quality. June is the rainy season in Mexico City. You can expect temperatures in the mid 70's. After all, Mexico City sits at 7,400 elevation. It rained for about an hour each evening while we were there, so you can see that, even with the rain, the air quality can still be scientifically described as "CRAP". The EPA would love getting its mitts on Mexico City. Lot's of regulating to do.
The Castillo no longer houses presidents, conquerors etc. so you can walk about quite freely without necessity of diplomacy or armament. Although priceless objects of art are just laying about, you couldn't abscond with this carriage used by French Emperor Maximillian even if you were foolish enough try. Way too many cops.
Wanting to put some distance between ourselves and the Mexican Attack Squirrels and also being desirous of getting a bit more culture, we headed down to the Museo Anthropologia. This vast museum houses artifacts from most of Mexico's indigenous cultures.
Stop! Time for another art moment! Let's take a look at this fella.
I'll admit it, this guy is kinda scary. His hands are positioned to push himself up from the sitting position and do something dastardly. Yet, check out the head dress! How did these deities get around with so much baggage? Pretty sure if that fella did get up, he is falling on his butt. Gravity is a cruel master. At least in art, my God just kind of whisks around with that white shock of hair flowing free in the breeze. It's rather majestic and non-threatening. And have you ever noticed that the First Person of the Holy Trinity (God the Father) is never depicted sitting about. Nope. He's airborne, busy and doesn't want any kind of headdress impeding his movement.
From the Olmec culture, we have this rather huge head.
The real reason I put this picture in is because my wife is in it. She makes everything just a bit more fun. Want to spice up a dull picture of a rock carved into a head? Add a pretty girl. I do understand that about photography. But, I digress. I think I've seen this head in a Simpson's episode as follows:
Granted, it was supposed be an Olmec head gifted to Bart Simpson for saving the life of Mr. Burns, but they painted it up all wrong. Frankly, Bart's Olmec head looks a bit more South Pacific to me, but who am I to raise objections.
Now to get the gruesome part of this trip. As you know, the Aztecs (and many other Mesoamerican cultures) were rather fond of human sacrifice. After all, Huitzilopochtli doesn't make the sun rise without a river of human blood. We all know that this is how it works. I would like to leave Huitzilopochtli be for a while, and discuss Xipe Totec, god of the harvest.
Here is statute of a priest of Xipe Totec.
As noted above, Xipe Totec is the god of the harvest. To the Aztec, the harvest represented life, death and renewal. Think how the corn grows, dies, and spreads its seed. You know where I'm going with this, right? Someone's gotta die.
The sacrificial victim would be treated like the living embodiment of the god himself for the duration of the year. Honors and awards at such a young age! Pretty good gig ... for a while. However, at harvest time, that heart gets plucked out, the victim is skinned and a fellow like this guy depicted above would wear the victim's skin for a period of some twenty odd days. You can't really tell from this photo, but this fella has four hands. That is because the priest had two hands and they left the two of the victim attached to the skin for good measure. I imagine this would impede eating Captain Crunch out of the bowl, but sacrifices (pun intended) must be made. That oval around the mouth depicts the skin from the victim. Not the kind of breathing hole I would prefer.
For those of you that thought my liberal arts education would amount to nothing, you are mostly right. However, I was at least able to disgust some of you with what I learned at UCLA about Xipe Totec. You are welcome, and I will just have to be satisfied with that for now.
Perhaps you need a bit of a palate cleanser before I leave off on Day 2?
Remember, all is not as it seems.
On Day 3, my wife will speak what I call gibberish Spanish.
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