Woohooo!
I got into town yesterday afternoon and was met at the airport by my lovely globalfreeloaders host Sandra. I was quickly baptized into the D.F. driving culture by fire. I was white knuckling it all day. What lanes, what lights..hey that driver was 8 years old! I found out there is a law in the city that allows women driving alone after 11pm to run any red light. Now, while I appreciate the concern for women and their ability to keep from getting carjacked and all, I find this law to be absolutely insane given what I have seen of traffic here. Sandra explained that having a drivers license is a formality that is mostly disregarded - as is the age requirement of 16 to be legally allowed to steer a vehicle. She's been driving in the city since she was 14, and her father, worried that teaching someone to drive would stress him out, simple gave her the car and let her go. She swears they weren't her fault, but she's been in six accidents - which according to her roomate Chris is totally average. No seatbelts either...granted, I'm a pussy, but come on! Anyway....holy fuck.
Last night, we met up with some of Sandra's friends and went to the opening of a multi-media arts exhibition at the Laboratorio Arte Alameda. It is a museum space that used to house a collection of colonial period paintings. Apparently, the art didn't bring in enough visitors/cash, so now the space, with new name and new management, hosts various, mostly modern art exhibitions. I expected to be there for a while, but the opening night's piece was actually only about 3 minutes long. I thought it was nice, but reminded me a little of a planetarium laser show. The museum is a beautiful, vaulted, elegant space, allthough I couldn't tell at first due to the absolute masses of people who were cramming into the doors. I just let the crowd shove me in what I hoped was the right direction, all the while trying to keep my friends' heads within view. I got my arm squashed for a bit on the way into the portal, but against all odds, I had a great time with that. The people were mostly young and beautiful, the air was tinged with a hint of weed, and everyone seemed to be in a good mood - except Chris who was complaining about the Mexican lack of order. Believe me, as a German, I know all about order, and it's not all it's cracked up to be. But there you go. The grass is always greener.
We could have stayed after and had drinks there, but we drove to Condesa instead and had a couple of beers. There were three mariachi singers in the Cantina, all seemingly bored to tears, and not really making much music. The girls thought it would be a nice thing for me to experience a serenata, so they chose a song lamenting the cruelty of women and belted along with the nice little man. It was a Mexico moment. We talked a lot about music, and I will be purchasing some CD's as recommended by them. We also made a plan to stop by plaza Garibaldi, which is where the mariachi groups of D.F. present themselves. You walk around, drink a lot, listen to the bands as they wander around the cafes of the plaza and choose the band you want to hire for your purpose - be it wooing a woman, proposing, begging for forgiveness, weddings, quincenieras or the like. We won't be hiring I assume, but it will be great to listen in.

I came to Mexico City right at the beginning of the 20th Festival de Mexico, and so we'll be looking for some live music tonight. In the meantime, I will spend the afternoon, gazing at murals in the city center, trying to get a whole lungful of air. (oh, so that's what this entry's title is about) I feel a pretty constant dizzyness at the moment, partly due to the high elevation of D.F. in comparison to Portland, and partly due to the truly horrific pollution. I've been dealing with this by smoking a lot of cigarettes and not drinking enough water. Hmmmm.
Okay, so much for days one and a half. More to come soon