20 September to 8 October 2015
Mexico started at the airport in Chicago. From the moment I checked in, everything was in Spanish. It felt like I was the only non-Mexican on the flight to Mexico City. I was wearing my Team GB top and stood out amongst many Mexican triathletes that were flying back home. Unfortunately, we did not make it to Mexico that day. Fortunately, apart from a cold night at Chicago airport, nothing bad happened.
The flight took off slightly late and never reached very much height. We made a turn at Chicago harbour, great view, but it felt strange to make a loop at the beginning of a flight. Ten minutes later, we descended and landed at Chicago airport. Some people who had fallen asleep were surprised at the speed at which we had seemingly arrived in Mexico! We could see fire engines accompanying our plane the moment we touched down till we stopped at the gate. Everyone was surprisingly calm and composed, or maybe everyone was scared in silence? Engine failure it turns out. Thanks God, it didn’t happen in the middle of the flight!
Volaris, the company operating the flight, did a poor job communicating and looking after us stranded passengers thereafter. As always, the shouters and complainers got a hotel room, transport and meal voucher early on. I had missed the moment and after six hours wait got half a sandwich and was told that there were no more hotel rooms. I stayed the next six hours trying to rest at the gate, but it was too cold to sleep. I blame the running nose and cough I have had since on that miserable night. I didn’t get the promised flight reimbursement, just some Volaris flight vouchers that are pretty useless to me). I will boycott them now, although it is not much of a threat though, since I don’t live in their operating area.
Ok, enough complaints! I have since had a great time in Mexico with my friends and family here.
Arriving in Mexico City, I went to my Mexican paternal grandparent’s house close to the airport.
My granddad Ruben turned 89 on 10 September. He is fragile now and no longer leaves his house. His mind is still sound and he told me quite a bit of his life, which I find fascinating. He grew up in Teposcolula, a small farming village in the high planes of the southern Mexican state of Oaxaca. He didn’t finish university because he fell in love and returned home to marry and became a farmer. Him and Paola did well growing wheat and maiz, but Ruben wanted to offer his children a better education. Paola accepted reluctantly and they moved to Mexico City. The plan worked and most of their eight children went to university. Ruben worked 25 years for what is now Banco Santander in their facilities department. Well, this is how I understood his story. Apologies family Ortiz if not quite correct!
My grandmother, Paola, doesn’t stop working in the house. She is small and can hardly reach the big pot in which she cooks delicious food. But such a strong woman, I bet she will get to be a 100! She showed me her houseshrine and explained every saint to me and what they had done for her. One of them (see picture), the niño de Nundichi, healed her son Jaime, when he was born with a malfunctioning arm. She took him on horseback only a few weeks after his birth to the saint’s church, where the miracle happened.
A few days later, my Mexican sister Irina picked me up in Mexico City and we took an overnight bus north to the city of Guadalajara. Neither of us had been there before. The historical centre is very nice, lots of colonial buildings. I love the patios and strong colours. The Hospicio Cabaña has 23 of them and I must have taken at least double the amount of photos. It is a Unesco world heritage site built in the beginning of the 19th century as a shelter for the disadvantaged. Its main attraction are the murals by José Clemente Orozco, one of the greatest Mexican muralists of the period. They are very dark and drastic, maybe because they were painted in 1938. I am not a fan, but can see the genius in what he has done with perspective.
On Friday, we had booked a Tequila Tour, a proper tourist bus going to two Tequila factories and to the town of Tequila. At the first stop at midday, we were introduced to the process of making the organic quality Tequila called Tres Mujeres (three women). We tasted five tequilas, which went straight to the head. Luckily, they also offered sweetcorn with chilli which counteracted the tequila. Surprisingly, no one of the 30 people on the bus got drunk and even the hen do left the bus composed and in order when dropped off at their hotel at the end of the tour.
Tlaquepaque is another beautiful colonial town just outside of Guadalajara, which we visited the following day. It has many, many shops that offer Mexican crafts in all their colours and splendour. I would buy it all if I was not traveling and had the house for it. I don’t, so I got away relatively lightly by ‘just’ buying another leather jacket. Absolutely useless for the next few months, but I could not resist its bright red colour that I had been looking for for some time now. It was also a bargain considering European prices.
At least I could wear it once, the next day in Puebla, where we arrived at 6am on Sunday morning. Irina and her boyfriend Luis, took me to various places. I liked the market, where senior couples and señoras were dancing away to live music. We later tasted some flavoured shots at an old establishment near the centre and had excellent greasy street food in the evening. All the while, Luis, who is from Cuba, gave me important tips (“¡Cuidado con los hombres cubanos!”) and contacts for my upcoming trip to the island. Thanks, Luis!
I spent a rainy Monday with Elsa, my Mexican mum, and truly enjoyed her cooking once again.
After a fourteen hour bus journey, I arrived in the South of Mexico at the Pacific Coast of Oaxaca on Tuesday noon. I nearly cried when I saw my friend Tete at the bus terminal after 17 years! We had studied together at the high school in Salina Cruz, when I was here for my exchange year in 1998/99. We obviously had lots to catch up over the following 48 hours, which was not enough time at all! Tete has been living in different places in Mexico, but returned to the Oaxaca coast four years ago and is now working for a micro credit bank. It seems a fascinating task, going around the region to remote places to attend the meetings of the local woman and overseeing the giving out and collection of credit. Tete enjoys it and I know she exells in it with her people and leadership skills.
We spent that evening in Puerto Escondido. Ladies night meant free drinks all night. We talked and danced till the early morning hours. Unfortunately, Tete had to return to work in Pochutla the next day, so I went to the beach alone. I was meant to doze and cure the hangover in the shade, but instead took up the offer of a two hour surf lesson for £10. The instructor got a bit impatient, when he realised that I really just wanted to lay flat on the surf board and dangle my feet in the water. I therefore put some effort in it and managed to stand up and go with a few waves. I would love to take more lessons when I am in better shape. Maybe I will return to Puerto at the end of my trip. I can totally understand why my sister Lena and I got stuck here during our Mexico tour in 2002. This beach town is so relaxing: ocean, tropical heat, palm trees, excellent food, cold bottle of Corona at the beach for £1, good looking people, great waves.
I had to say good bye to this for now and made my way to another place I have always enjoyed: Ixtepec, where my Mexican maternal grandparents used to live. God bless their souls! Ixtepec is a dusty, hot town in the Isthmo of Mexico. The Isthmo is known for its matriarchy, where the economy is dominated by the strong market women, all above in the town of Juchitan. Even homosexual men are relatively accepted here and are known to be the best skilled for stitching the colourful flowers on the beautiful traditional Tehuanaoutfit. We usually know this dress from the painter Frida Kahlo, who often potrayed herself in it.
My auntie Celia expected me and we went straight to bullfight that was just taking place for two days. We met my uncles Jaime (Celia’s husband) and David (Celia’s brother) in a kind of beer garden next to the arena. David had been there since 9am and claimed he had mounted a bull earlier this morning! Shame that there are no photos to prove it 🙂
You can see from the photos that the arena is a provisional structure made mainly of iron gates and wood in the town square. I am indebted to Celia, who talked a local family into letting me join their VIP seats on the second level. From there I had a great view to observe the spectacle: the Toreros brought one bull at a time into the arena and tied it to a pole. A torero then mounted the bull and it was let loose. I was stunned by how so many of them kept in the saddle for so long without there being a saddle! After a short time, especially when it was an inactive, boring bull, it would be caught again with ropes by the Toreros and returned to the pitch. All animal lovers: you can see no killing of the bulls, although I suspect you would still not condone this kind of entertainment. Apart from the bullfight, there was a big fair all around town. I guess this is how humans have enjoyed themselves for millennia: some form of spectacle surrounded by drinking, eating, music and dancing. Same here and everywhere.
I have since been in Salina Cruz with my friend Berenice and her partner Fabiola. Berenice also went to the same class in high school I attended during my exchange year. From all my friends back then I have probably kept in touch with her most and see her everytime I return to Mexico. She works for the Mexican Oilcompany Pemex in the port of Salina Cruz and oversees the export of the oil via the cargo ships. Salina Cruz lives off the refinery and the port. Because of this and despite its closeness to the sea, it is not known for beauty. I still enjoy it, especially eating delicious ceviche (raw fish/shrimps with lemon juice, chilli and coriander) and other fresh seafood at the beach together with micheladas: a bit like a beer Bloody Mary.
On Sunday, we went to one of the beaches nearby, Playa Chipehua. I like that there are no developments yet: a long sandy beach, sand dunes, bushes and farmland, a few huts and small restaurants. The fresh fish we ordered was cooked in the stone oven as there is no electricity. The whole meal for four people and drinks came to US$ 30. I swam in the warm calm ocean, few waves, shallow clean water.
This is very different to the Mexico that I will experience starting on Friday, 9 October, when I will arrive in Cancun. I know which one I prefer.
Big thanks to all my beloved Mexican family and friends. ¡Les quiero mucho!
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