Mexico City: Odds and Ends

Only now am I really starting to appreciate Mexico City. While I was there, I wasn't in a very good mood because I didn't meet any cool people at my hostel, but going through my pictures, I see that in five or six days I did and saw an incredible amount of amazing things. And so, here is a smattering of odds and ends: trips and sights not large enough to justify their own post but still worth sharing.


Mexico City has a subsidence problem. When the Aztecs were running things, most of the valley floor was covered by a series of shallow lakes (more on this below). Take away the water and that soft, spongy lakebed starts sinking under the weight of the buildings above. It's a problem with nearly all large, old buildings, but this church seemed to be faring the worst.


The interior. The camera is pretty close to true; it's the church that's wonky. It was almost disorienting.


But no less beautiful for being crooked.


El Catedral.


That's one hell of an entranceway.


Looking down the main aisle.


A more "creative" angle of the same.


Think that's all real gold? Yes.


Looking back towards the entrance. Damn, those are huge.. organs.


It is a very large church.


And some nice oils in the bishop's office.


This is a model of the Templo Mayor that was once the centerpiece of the Aztec capital. For more than 450 years, it was thought to have been completely destroyed by Cortes and the cathedral constructed atop its foundations.


Then, in 1978, electrical workers uncovered this guy. This photo was taken from the floor above, looking straight down. The disc is about 10' in diameter, a foot thick and weighs 8.5 tons. The colors are projected onto the stone to recreate its original paint job.


So I guess maybe we should do some more digging? ¡Ay, puta madre! We, uh, we found the temple. It wasn't under the cathedral after all.

Note the successively larger stages of construction.


Original decorations, in situ.


A different angle of the same.


A not so subtle reminder of the many human sacrifices that were made here.


More orignal exterior decorations. In the upper left is a "modern" building on the adjacent block; the Templo Mayor site and museum is completely surrounded by Mexico City and just off the main square, or Zócalo. In fact, the biggest barrier to serious architectural investigations of this site was the expensive colonial buildings sitting atop it.


Eek! A snake!


Eek! A human skull!


Eek! WTF is that?


Most of the artifacts recovered from the Templo Mayor were buried as part of sacrificial rites. There are shells, beads, semi-precious stones, pottery, carvings, etc. from all over Mexico and Central American, a testament to the wide extent of the Aztec empire. And, of course, human sacrifices were a regular part of their religious ceremonies.


I went to a random museum because it was free that day and I am cheap. I rather like this carving.


And I am madly in love with this door.


This is the main post office. No, seriously, that dude in the white pants is probably just buying stamps or something.


As I vaguely recall, the post office was constructed in the late 19th century and was meant to show off the power and wealth of Mexico.


I think they largely succeeded.


A thing that must be done in Mexico City is the Torre Latinoamerica, preferrably late in the day to appreciate the sunset. The elevator to the observation level costs 60 pesos, but there is a bar one floor down where the beers cost 40 pesos. Do the math.


Yeah, well, fine, okay, to be perfectly honest, I bought two beers, so I spent more than I would have on just the elevator.


But you know what I had that the other tourists didn't?


Two beers.


Mexico City's pollution, altitude and surrounding ring of mountains make for some pretty amazing sunsets, eh?


My last day in Mexico City I took the subway to the end of the line and then the light rail to the end of the line to reach the floating gardens of Xochimilco.


These canals are all that remain of the lakes that once covered much of the valley floor.


Ducks!


Would you like a snack to go with your boat ride? Perhaps some Mariachi music? No? Are you sure?


I shared a boat with some Mexicanas because I'm che.. traveling solo and welcome the company. Yeah, that's it.


On the bus to Puerto Escondido that night, an even more amazing sunset.

Mexico City: Rivera Murals

Mexico is big on murals. Most of them focus on Mexican history: the culture of the indigenous peoples, the Spanish conquest, the war of independence, the Marxist revolution. They are certainly imposing, sometimes occupying hundreds of feet of corridor from floor to ceiling, but...

I dunno.

I just haven't been all that impressed. They weren't all that skillful or moving. Nothing worth writing home about, as it were. But in El Palacio Gobierno in Mexico City there are a series of murals by Diego Rivera that are unquestionably masterpieces.

First, some context. El Palacio Gobiero is located on the Zócalo, Ciudad de México's main square. For some strange reason, I didn't take any photos of the exterior. But it's alright: this photographer had a much better vantage point (photo credit: Flickr).


The interior of El Palacio Gobiero. The murals begin in the main stairwell (toward the left) then run on the second floor from left to right, starting at the far corner and continuing around the next.


The three decorated walls of the stairwell form a triptych. Here we see Quetzalcóatl going through his life cycle: created by serpents he accompanies the sun at night, next, having assumed human form, he becomes the king and patriarch of the Aztec and finally, having sacrificed himself to give life to mankind, he returns to the sky as the morning star.


The center panel depicts the many terrible wars in Mexican history: the Spanish conquest, the war for Independence, the French and American invasions and finally the Marxist revolution at the beginning of the 20th century.


Rivera's vision of a communist paradise in Mexico. Note Marx himself overseeing everything at the top and Frida Kahlo's likeness at the bottom center, behind the woman in red.


On the second floor itself there are a series of murals depicting indigenous civilization in Mexico. Here we see the marketplace of Tenochtitlan with the city itself in the background.


Weaving and dying cloth.

Artisans at work.


Receiving visiting dignitaries.


Harvesting pulque, which is a type of sap from which is made a milky alcoholic beverage. I tried it one night. Meh.


Agriculture. The Aztec built up shallow lakebeds into incredibly fertile islands which supported the 200,000 inhabitants of Tenochtitlan.


Harvesting tropical fruit.


Harvesting and processing agave (I think).


And then it all comes crashing down.

I stared at this mural for at least 10 minutes, transfixed. After all of the other scenes of a flourishing civilization, the tragedy of the Spanish conquest is overwhelming. It's worth dwelling on some of the details of this mural.

The Spanish were big on torture (Inquisition, anyone?), but note also how the spectators crowd around, not all of them horrified by the spectacle. Cortes never would have conquered the Aztec without the active aide of the Aztec's various vassal states. They sought only to end their subservience to the Aztec, never comprehending that the Spanish were a completely different type of threat, voracious but impossible to satisfy.


A tremendous amount of money was made on the suffering of the indigenous peoples. In the 100 years following the fall of the Aztec, 90% or more of the indigenous peoples perished. What would it be like to be that child on the woman's back, to grow up without any hope of reprieve?


Even the animals are aware of the coming storm. The mourn the death of their land.


And all of it overseen and blessed by the church. To be fair, the church would eventually become a positive force in the lives of the indigenous, but the Conquistadores committed terrible crimes while claiming the benevolent approval of God.

Mexico City: Los Pirámedes de Teotihuacán

About 50km northwest of Ciudad de México lie the Pyramids of Teotihuacán. Wikipedia covers them in detail, so I'll summarize.

Relatively little is known about the culture that built Teotihucán. The city peaked around 450 A.D. and exerted cultural influence over a broad swathe of central Mexico, Guatemala and possibly even Honduras. In the 7th and/or 8th centuries, the city declined and collapsed, becoming a holy site for later cultures such as the Aztec (Teotihucán is Hahuatl for "Birthplace of the Gods"). Today it is a UNESCO world heritage site, home of the second largest pyramid in the New World and one of the most visited tourist attractions in Mexico.

The Avenue of the Dead (so-called by the Spanish, who mistook the temple platforms for tombs) stretches from the Citadel 3km to the Pyramid of the Moon. It is broad and imposing.


The Citadel (also so-called by the Spanish; they weren't very good at naming things) was actually the Royal Palace. Note the outlines of otherwise vanished buildings.


Temple enlargements were typically constructed right on top of previous iterations, nicely preserving the prior versions.


I'm not sure I should have been back here, but it was really cool being able to identify hallways and rooms and whatnot. As opposed to the pyramids, which are just huge (though admittedly impressive) piles of rock, this area felt like someplace people actually lived.


One of the (many) temple platforms flanking the Avenue of the Dead.


The main attraction: El Pirámide del Sol.


The Avenue of the Dead stretching back toward the Citadel.


My feet. Also, in the distance, the Citadel to the left of the Avenue of the Dead. But more importantly, my feet.


The Avenue of the Dead continuing on to El Pirámide de la Luna.


The climb up is exhausting. The climb down is unnerving, to say the least.


One pyramid down, one to go.


Getting close. Christ, this site is big.


They don't let you climb all the way to the top of the Pyramid of the Moon. That was fine with me.


Someone else's feet.


Dammit, I have to walk all the way back.


In all honesty, the artwork at Teotihuacán wasn't all that impressive. In part, this is because the colors were badly faded. But mostly it was because their artwork wasn't very well developed (in my humble opinion).


One of the only examples of vivid colors. Believe it or not, that's a parrot. A parrot vomiting a rainbow of speech glyphs. Makes sense to me.


I don't remember and I'm not gonna speculate.


A modern recreation of how the interiors were decorated.


It was late in the afternoon when I was returning from the site museum. It was nice to get a look at the site without the throngs.


The backside of the Pyramid of the Sun.