On Monday, May 20th, I moved from my hostel in Zócalo to Coyoacán, where I planned to stay for 3 weeks to do a Workaway1For those unfamiliar, this is a type of volunteer exchange where you do 4-5 hours of work a day in exchange for a free place to sleep and often a meal or two. It’s a cool way to travel – you meet locals, and can actually do some good. More info here.
When I knocked on the door, I was greeted by a rousing round of barking. I met Diego, who had set up the workaway, and his Dad, Gerardo. I also met their 6 dogs – 3 inside and 3 outside. Most were Mexican Hairless dogs, or Xoloitzcuintli2Xolos for short, these dogs have a long history trailing back to the Aztecs. For more information, check out this article..
On the first day, I didn’t have to work, so instead I spent the day hanging out with Diego. We walked along the picturesque alleyways of Coyoacán, past the Anahuacalli3A museum Diego Rivera made to show off his pre-hispanic art collection. More on this later. and later through the historic central Coyoacán neighborhood, where some of the oldest houses in Mexico City are located4Literally, houses from the 1500s and 1600s, where the Spanish set up to live after conquering the Aztecs.. As we walked, we discussed his family and story.
I can’t detail too much of Diego’s story for privacy reasons, but it was eye opening. He’d worked many jobs in his life – spanish teacher, surf journalist, videographer, producer. He was even connected to rapper Towkio and the Save Money crew5Includes Vic Mensa, Joey Purp and Chance the Rapper and even produced the video for Clean Up6This absolutely blew my mind because this is one of my favorite hip hop videos, and I have probably watched it 50+ times. Life is incredibly coincidental, and traveling magnifies this further because the volume and variety of people you meet increases exponentially. Also, check out the video if you haven’t seen it – it’s dope..
On Tuesday, I truly got to know Diego’s parents. His Dad, Gerardo, was retired, and his Mom, Catalina, was home recovering from a bout of food poisoning. My main job at their home was to help them clean out a room on the 3rd floor of their house which had essentially become storage space for all of their books, papers, notebooks, and tools. We sorted through things together on the first day, and I got to know them. It was hilarious, because they were such… parents.
While working, we played different Youtube music videos on the TV. Their recommendations were from the 70s or 80s, sometimes even earlier. No matter who was chosen, Gerardo would have a commentary on the artist, using his best English.
“She’s pretty.” “He’s ugly.” “He’s fat.” “She can really dance.” Pregnant pause for 2 seconds… chuckle. Repeat on next song.
I’d play things like Natalia LaFourcade (check her out!) or reggaeton hits. When we broke for dinner, we had an in depth conversation about the evolution of music since the 70s and 80s (all in Spanish, of course). They were fascinated to hear about the advances in production value, the rise of autotune, and how much focus there was on marketing the artist. But, there was one question they couldn’t get over.
“Why does it have to be so vulgar?”
On Wednesday, I went to the Diego Rivera Museum, also known as Anahuacalli7Incredible museum, and further off the traditional tourist trail out here. It’s almost empty of tourists, in stark contrast to the Frida Kahlo Museum. I had the place basically to myself; the first floor is meant to feel like the underworld – much more effective when you’re alone.. On Thursday, I went with Diego to watch Avengers: Endgame8In English, actually. Mexicans who speak fluent English can’t be bothered with language dubs over live action films, since the lips and audio don’t match.. On Friday, we went to get their car repaired (long story) and then meandered around another Coyoacán neighborhood, this one the site of an underground river that had been converted to a park. And that night, I met Itzel.
Itzel was my second tinder date (I was more in the friend zone with Arid, from the previous post). We met in Coyoacán Central, and bonded over our mutual love of travel. She was energetic and loved to dance. As a design student, she was also obsessed with Helsinki, where I’d been fortunate enough to spend 4 months on exchange. We hit it off immediately, and had a great night chatting about travels, future plans, and Mexican phrases I’d never heard of.
On Saturday, I had friends in town. A friend from USC, Jason was visiting with a big group of coworkers. We met at Xochimilco, known as “the Venice of Mexico” due to its expansive canal system. The canals are where the similarities start and end, however.
Most foreigners visit Xochimilco to party. We bought cases of beer and bottles of mezcal, and rented a boat, called a trajinera, for several hours. We turned on the bluetooth speaker and cruised the canals, buzzing to reggaeton hits as our helmsman, Don Julio9Really he was just named Julio, but I think he appreciated the honorific prefix. Also, the canals were shallow, so he steered the boat with a big stick, maybe 15 feet long. He sank the thing into the floor of the canals and would steer by pushing off with it. When we got to a less crowded section of the canals, he let me try; shit was tough. steered us around the myriad other boats containing mariachi bands, flower crown saleswomen, taqueros, and fellow partiers, foreigner and mexican alike.
This was the first time, after 9 days in CDMX, that I had spent significant time with foreigners (non-Mexicans). Jason, who had spent 6 months in Moscow working in Russian, noted that “returning to English after speaking a different language is like sinking into a comfy armchair.” This couldn’t be more true. Though in this case, more like jumping around in an armchair at a houseparty. We were lit.
After Xochimilco, we went to a fancy mexican restaurant and then went out. While in the line for Club Paraiso, we weathered an onslaught of hawkers – flowers, tacos, tortas, dorilocos, anything that could be sold easily on the street, was.
The most interesting though, was a dude who came up to us with a generator and 2 wires with handles on the ends, and asked us if we would like to electrocute ourselves.
What. The. Fuck.
Jans, a Danish dude in our group, was game. And so, at 2am in the morning, while waiting to get into a packed club, our group stood in a circle, held hands, and let the electricity pass through us until we couldn’t bear any more and someone had to out themselves as the weak link10It was totally me – I didn’t like the idea of this.. What a dumb game; what a great night in Ciudad de Mexico.
On Sunday, I got morning barbacoa with the Bravos11Read some details on Barbacoa here. I found it incredibly delicious, and although I wasn’t hungover, it was a great pick-me-up for the day. Sunday was also my birthday, so I passed the rest of the day alone, thinking about my life, my goals, my place in the world, and how to do better. Just how I like it.
Monday, I had my second date with Itzel. She met me at UNAM12Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, a mind-boggling place. The best school in the country, it’s also public, and she mentioned to me that she paid a whopping 20 centavos (⅕ of a peso) for each semester to go there. Since it was the National University of Mexico, it also hosts Mexico’s National Library, and several famous performing spaces and museums. It’s like if the US decided to name Berkeley the official public school of the country, and then relocated it to Washington DC so that the Smithsonian Museums would be on campus.
Itzel is finishing up a thesis on design, so she showed me around the whole school, starting with the design school where I even met some of her professors and saw some of the projects they were working on. The projects were super cool, and emphasized the use of recycled materials in the design of a wide variety of things. We wandered the expansive campus, then headed to dinner and her house.
I met Itzel’s parents and her sister, all of whom have a connection to UNAM – both of her parents are researchers there, and her sister is a student. The vibe was incredibly warm and welcoming, as I’m starting to see is the major theme in Mexico.
After getting to know each other a bit, we packed into two couches to watch a movie together. The movie was “Nosotros Los Nobles”, which translates as “We’re the Nobles”, a comedy in which a family of wealthy Fresa children are cut off from their family fortune and forced to work. Even the movie was an expression of hospitality, in my opinion. The whole family had seen it a couple times, and even though it was one of their favorites, I knew Itzel had chosen it because it covered the city (topical) and featured the same actor who played a leading role in my favorite Spanish-Language program, Club de Cuervos.
We finished the movie around midnight, but I stayed for another 30 minutes because Itzel’s parents were so excited to tell me different things about UNAM and CDMX. Itzel drove me back, we listened to Natalia LaFourcade and Nujabes before she dropped me off.
I spent the rest of the week largely focused on cleaning out the room on top of the house, trying to turn it from a storage spot for books into a proper library. As I’d settled into the work, I’d gotten to know everyone better.
Gerardo and Catalina struck me as a little bit whimsical.
Catalina had adopted a sheep 5 years back, and cared for it from infancy. When it got too big, she had to give it away to a zoo. When they visited nearly a year later, she called the sheep by name and it walked right to her. She was so proud the sheep remembered her.
Gerardo had many pidgeons on the roof of the house. He told me he’d like to train them as carrier pidgeons; he thought it was fun retirement hobby. He was serious about it too – the next set of workawayers would be a carpenter french couple who could construct a more professional pidgeon coop, the type that had trapdoors and removable floors. Gerardo even had a friend with nearly 200 trained carrier pidgeons, who could help him learn the craft.
The Bravos also gifted me tons of mexican goodies. I tried pulque13A pre-hispanic Aztec drink with the consistency of yogurt and the alcohol content of a beer, tacos de canasta 14Literally, “basket tacos” which are sold by taqueros on bikes , and a wide assortment of tamales15Sweet, savory, inside of a bread loaf, etc..
By Friday, I’d finished organizing all the books alphabetically into a library. I’d spent 2 weeks in the neighborhood of Coyoacán, and was welcome to stay another. I’d learned a lot, helped the family, and was fortunate to receive their hospitality. But I was ready to live in a more central part of the city, to spend those 4 hours a day on my own projects, to relax a bit, and to be closer for other friend groups who would be visiting soon. It was time to move to Roma.
Miscellaneous Notes:
- A friend of mine who had done a similar trip mentioned this to me before I left, but I didn’t realize just how true it was until I’d spent a couple of weeks here: more than anyone, Latin Americans are willing to immediately invite you into their life. I saw this with Arid inviting me out to hang with her friends, Itzel inviting me to her home to watch a movie with her family, or the Bravo family buying foods specifically so I could experience the culture. Over and over again, the hospitality I’d been shown had been overwhelming. So far, this is the theme of my trip.
- The hospitality here is foundational, down to the words used. In the states, if someone asks what you’re doing, and you want to add them in to the event, you would use a variation of the following: “Feel free to come as well!” “If you want to come, let me know!” “Let me know if you’d like to join!”. There might be exclamations there, but the subtext is indifference; while you are welcome, there is no expectation one way or another. But in Mexico, the phrase I’ve heard most often is “you’re invited”. It’s a subtle change, but the subtext is entirely different – people want you there; you belong.
- Diego mentioned to me that he doesn’t pay less than 17 pesos for a taco, and it’s a lesson I’m slowly learning myself. In Mexico, you get what you pay for. If you are paying less than 17 pesos for a taco, that taco will be compromised – it might be smaller, less tasty, or have lower quality meat. Obviously the product isn’t a commodity like in a perfectly competitive market – some tacos are just better than others – but you pay a premium for those. I haven’t found an obvious dominant strategy in the food selection here, like I did the US16Anyone who knows me will know I’m referring to Chipotle, which is the best combination of flavor, price for quantity, healthiness and convenience – an unbeatable combination of the 4 factors I consider most important in food. In Mexico, there will always be a tradeoff between flavor and price it seems, so there is no clear dominant strategy..
- Interesting point about UNAM: they had all sorts of schools, but no business program. As a business major, this particularly peaked my interest; the explanation I’ve gotten from multiple people is that business is so closely associated with corruption here that they don’t even teach it at public schools; it’s usually reserved for private schools, like ITAM.