I spent Tuesday strolling around the Rufino Tamayo museum and walking down the endless Avenida Insurgentes for about 3 hours. Dude, that is one long street. Mexico City is a town of such intense opposites, it amazes me again and again. I will say that I have not spent a whole lot of time in the poor parts of town, so my experience is limited, as is most every tourist experience here I would assume. Still, strolling down Insurgentes today, and then passing by the poor part of Santa Fe on my way home brings home the point that one only exists because of the other - and that's not a good thing. Anyway, I was walking down Insurgentes because I was looking for a Western Union store, since Rebecca was wiring me money to help tie me over until my card arrives. I will take a minute right here to give a gargantuan shout out to Rebecca - she not only helped me feel like less of an idiot for losing my card, but administered my cash recovery from Portland with authority. I don't know what I would do without you - you rock!
On Wednesday, armed with cash and a bus ticket I was on my way to Morelia. I was looking forward to seeing the state of Michoacan, because when I was working at the Boys & Girls Club in Portland, the majority of the kids I dealt with were from this region - between Morelia and Tacambaro mostly. In fact I was harboring some secret hope that I would be walking down the street and suddenly spot little Jorge or Mario or whoever coming my way. That would be so cool!
I arrived in the early evening and was picked up by a charming couple - Sylvia and Keña who carted me around for a while and eventually deposited me with yet another cute pair, Lupita and Rosita. (With names like that, how could they not be cute?) They are friends of Georgina's from way back. Lupita builds and remodels houses, Rosy owns a little beauty shop. They are very traditional/old school people and I feel a little like a fish out of water with them. In general, the feeling of staying with them in this very conservative, highly religious state makes me feel like I have morphed from just a regular vanilla girl into some type of social rebel. The scene that Lupe and Rosy move in is like out of an early 1900's lesbian pulp novel. Everything operates in small secret circles - very clandestine. Nobody in this group is out, except amongst their friends, and whenever the word gay is mentioned it is in a whisper. Whoa. I don't know if I could handle that long term. Lupita is one of those self-made women who grew up in the ghetto and started working when she was 12 years old. She has really done a lot with the skills she has, and the houses she builds and sells are spectacular in their detail and style. She supports a lot of people with her work, I think, and has to be quite serious about it for that reason I suppose. Still, it doesn't seem like she gets out much, and she has been mildly surprised and shocked by some of the things I have told her about my homes - such as the fact that lesbians can get married in Berlin.
Our first evening was spent at a tiny little bar called La Mancha, which is owned by one of L&R's gay friends. Most of the guests were friends and family, and a group of four sisters, one of whom apparently used to date the owner, took turns singing cheesy Mexican 80's ballads and pop tunes. They were quite good actually, and their whole family including brothers, cousins, in-laws and mother were there to support them. We stayed for a few hours and then L&R took pity on my yawning little self and put me to bed.
The next day was spent exploring downtown. Morelia has the most beautiful cathedral I have seen so far, and a very well maintained old colonial center. Lots of parks, a very nice aqueduct that stretches along the edge of old town, flowers everywhere. The historical center is definetly a stroller's paradise - perfect for me then. I tried to see some art, but was denied access due to ongoing prep work for a new exhibition. What is it with me not being able to get into museums in this country? I met back up with L&R for dinner and then was carted to Lupita's country house to feed the dog and water the flowers. Wow, what a beautiful spot. A sweeping view, large garden with every kind of fruit tree imaginable and a cozy, spacious,beautifully decorated cabin on gigantic stilts, making the view even more spectacular.
Friday morning, I took the bus to a little town about an hour outside of Morelia called Patzcuaro. It sits on the shore of a lake and has a beautiful town center with tons and tons of artisan shops selling beautiful fabrics and pottery. It seems to be a pretty popular weekend destination for the nearby city folk. I walked around town, had lunch at the lake and generally enjoyed the beautiful day - very relaxing little day trip.
Saturday marked the day that became my most interesting little dive into the culture of my hosts. It was amazing how much their entire attitude changed once we had arrived at the weekend. Lupita threw off her formal, work-obsessed seriousness, and even Rosy could be seen smiling every now and then. In the morning I tried the museum of contemporary art again and had a great little visit of the now completed exhibition. Especially the pieces Malas noticias (bad news) - a paper mache corpse on a stretcher made with newspaper featuring news about killed protesters - and Retrato de familia family portrait) impressed me. (Can you tell what the portaits are of?) In the afternoon Lupita, Rosy, Sylvia and I took off to the country house and then went out to eat at a charming little restaurant somewhere on the road towards Patzcuaro. We drank merrily, and the formality of our relationship finally began to disintegrate a little bit. After a long dinner we got back home and started a private little dance party in the living room. My oh my, how the Morelianas' reservation and repression falls when the weekend and the alcohol starts to take hold! The folks had invited another old friend of their's over and she turned out to be quite the player. I don't think anyone has ever come on to me quite that strongly...I would have been flattered if she hadn't been just a tiny bit crazy, and subsequently a little bit on the scary side. Anyway, it all became a part of a totally surreal night - a true transformation in my hosts. I managed to remain relatively sober, did a good bit of dancing and retreated at 3 in the morning when things finally slowed down a little, shaking my head and smirking to myself.
Sunday got a late start for obvious reasons, and we went out to eat at yet another excellent restaurant. Incredible soup and carnitas...yum yum. Then off to see G's oldest childhood friend and her parents. In the evening, Keña came to join us for a nightcap and we turned in early.
On Monday, early in the morning, finally another trip to the beach. The destination, Las Troncones, a small beach just west of Ixtapa on the Guerrero coast. The ride once again was spectacular, passing through a region aptly named nueva Italia due to its resemblance of Tuscany. Rolling forested hill sides, meadows with lots of beautiful flowers in bloom. Then over the Sierra Madre past a gigantic reservoir and cactus forests with thousands of crickets chirping at a deafening volume. Finally after five hours, the Pacific - it was hot, sunny most of the time...and once again there is little else to say about the beach other than that it is relaxing, beautiful and an excuse to do absolutely nothing for three days. In contrast to me recent stay on Isla Mujeres however, I had the space and attitude to truly enjoy it. Sleep, food, sunsets. yes.
On Thursday morning I made my way back to Valle de Bravo for some more time in my favorite house while I plan my next excursion, and for a break from the heat. By now, my bank card has arrived in Mexico City, and I am truly ready to move on. A couple more days with G. and my buddies in Mexico City - the last this time for sure, and I will head east again to meet my friend Pandora in Belize, spend another week in Paradise and then head home.