Mexico City

Vista Mexico City

24 Million Souls
Mexico City is the most populous city in the world, with the largest concentration of people in one place. Mexico (as locals simply call it), sits in a valley surrounded by mountains, and was originally built on a dried lakebed. It was home to the ancient Aztecs, a highly advanced civilization whose wealth and power was matched only by the ancient Romans. Unlike most cities whose city center is easily visible, there is no clear delineation of that in Mexico. On a clear day, you can catch a full panoramic view of a beautiful array of concrete buildings of Mexican oranges, aqua blues, reds, and greens that spread across the earth like wildfire blanketing the mountainsides. But most days are grey, thanks to the choking pollution that fills the air with the lingering smell of oil, diesel, and dirt that festers in your nostrils, leaving a dusty taste in your mouth that you simply cannot wash away. These strange tastes add to the flavor of Mexico.

I stayed in Polanco, just Northwest of the city center, a premiere neighborhood that’s relatively safe where siesta minded policemen guard million dollar suites. The president, Vincente Fox, lives close by probably fraternizing with the diplomats who reside on embassy row. Here the streets glow with urban life – VW taxi beetles drive recklessly by US standards while businessmen frolic at outdoor cafés laughing over margaritas, and trendy restaurants serve overpriced appetizers of local cuisine such as ant eggs and worms. A Starbucks, a Marriott, and the Hard Rock Café all flourish with gringos (like me) eager to spend money. You could spend days living it up here, but I however, wanted to find some peace in the 16 acre park that resides quietly next to the hotel – Parque Chapultapec (Grasshopper Park).


Chapultapec Fountain

Parque Chapultapec (Grasshopper Park)
I heard there was a castle in the park, and so I was determined to find it. El Castillo was built in 1785 by Spain, and was the home of presidents up until the 1940’s. Legend has it that back in 1847 the Castillo was the last stand for six young Mexican military cadets who were backed into the tower overlooking their glorious city as it fell to the invading Americans. The young cadets then proceeded to wrap themselves in Mexican flags and in defiance jumped to their deaths. They are called Niños Héroes. I figured I’d climb to the top of the castle to be a Niño Héro too (except for the whole jumping to my death part).

I entered into the park asking people, “Donde es el Castillo?” They directed me to the heart of the park through the shady paths of ancient trees. As I began my journey through the wood, I noticed the iridescent green lake of Chapultapec. It was kind of eery to me, but I guess I’m the only one who seemed bothered by the unnatural glow of the lake. Locals in rowboats and paddleboats splashed around without hesitation. Soon, I found myself ambling through the Alley of Poets and Philosophers, but I didn’t see much poetry or philosophizing, only seniors enthralled in countless games of chess, and young lovers on remote benches enjoying the lazy afternoon in hushed conversation.


Ominous Green Lake

I made my way around the lake to the center of the park, where a gauntlet of tourist hungry Mexican vendors awaited. The makeshift restaurants were like circus tents erected with neon colored tarps advertising garage tacos & chalupas. Greasy cooks labored over fiery grills serving hungry customers sitting at tables of plastic lawn furniture. One look in their direction and the cook shouts out: “Tacos, Burritos, Tamales, Chaloopaaaaaz! Cuatro por diez pesos!” (Four for a $1). Further along, stands of freshly cut mangos, watermelons, passion fruit, cotton candy, tortillas, and homemade potato chips all went on a fire sale for less than 5 pesos (50 cents) as the day drew to a close.

Other vendors tried to pawn off less than desirable items: monkey puppets, Scooby Doo balloons, knock-off sunglasses, fake designer watches, pirated CDs, DVDs, vintage t-shirts with mid-1990’s TV show themes, fake Aztec calendars, and other useless trinkets that you might find at a garage sale in your neighborhood. One guy urged me to try on a dusty poncho & Mexican hat, and stand next the big plastic mule so he could take my picture. I wasn’t about to pay for the self deprecation, so I declined respectfully, but I had to be a bit more forceful with the guy in the giant Elmo suit. He was a bit scary, hair nappy, fur matted in places, even the little kids steered clear of him. Every kiosk in this part of the park sold the same thing and moving from one to the other gave me that déjà vu feeling. I felt like I entered one end of a revolving door only to come out in the same place to be greeted by more garage tacos, more plastic mules, and more giant Elmos.

The People of Poverty
Despite the circus, I respect these hard working people of Mexico – their sprit is undying and fierce. A majority of these people earn less than $100 US dollars a week. It’s true that labor costs are small here, and as a consequence it’s better for some people to earn cash selling tamales in the park than to work for a big firm earning the same amount and having to pay the taxes. So, they do what they must to quite simply – survive. Unfortunately, some just give up the hopeless tasks altogether, and join the ranks of the homeless, begging for their next meal. The homeless are everywhere, whether it's a gap toothed lady with a crumpled cup, a five year old girl playing a beat-up accordion, or a wrinkled man brushing his teeth with his finger.

I noticed a homeless mother. She sat against a fence wrapped in a navy blue blanket. She had visible red spots on her face and arms indicating some kind of infection. A small child, about three years of age sat beside her on a piece of cardboard, playing unwittingly and with little awareness of the life they lived. The mother muttered in Spanish, and stretched out her cracked hand of dirty fingernails begging for a few pesos. Honestly, I wanted nothing to do with her, and continued past her towards the Castle. But the image haunted me, and when I returned 2 hours later on the same street, she was in the same broken position. This time however, I noticed another child, who before, was hidden under the blanket. This child was just a baby of 6 or 7 months, clothes dirty from the street, hair tangled, and face smudged with soil. Her mother gazed towards me again with eyes that spoke a desperate story. I was compelled to stop this time and give her 100 pesos. Maybe it was a sense of compassion, or maybe it was guilt, either way I couldn’t walk away in apathy, the baby reminded me of my own daughter.

The mother’s name was Medina. She had no workable income, no home, no husband, and because she had two very young children she couldn’t work. She’s one of the many homeless, whose names and faces are forgotten. It is estimated that the number of homeless in Mexico is as high as 50,000-90,000 people. The numbers are staggering, and little can be done to help all of them. There are organizations who are dedicated to serving these people. I did some research to find them, and perhaps with our support, they can make a difference. I realize that individually we cannot resurrect all these people from poverty, but we can at least try. Here are a few noteworthy organizations I found:

• Dallas Women of Vision – A non-profit group in affiliation with World Vision. Their mission is to invest their time, intellect, compassion, creativity, and finances to meet the needs of impoverished and oppressed women and children throughout the world.
• UNICEF – The United Nations Children's Fund works to bring health, education, equality and protection to children of need all over the globe.
• Save the Children – A non-profit humanitarian relief and development organization working in more than 40 countries throughout the developing world and the United States. Their mission is to create lasting, positive change in the lives of children in need.

Into the Heart of Mexico
Every time I travel somewhere I always search for something real, original, and authentic. Usually my quest ends with an interesting person, a great picture, and delightful story. But this time my search for authenticity brought a disturbing reality that is more than just another story or picture I put in a dusty album. Instead, I found an authentic Mexico that was not in the marble clad halls and glass sliding doors of my hotel. It was a Mexico where Medina stakes out her daily spot against the fence begging for pesos, and everyday Mexicans flood Chapultapec Park to eek out a living by selling useless trinkets from wooden kiosks. The Mexico I found is among the people of the poverty stricken barrios of garage tacos, tamale stands, and unkempt souls. To think, that I just wanted to reach the top of the castle, but I think stumbled upon something more profound – the heart of Mexico. I would have had it no other way.

– Marvin A.