Mexico City! (or, "And I thought drivers in Tuxtla were scary!")

ARRIVAL
After I reluctantly left Colombia and Diana and her family, I headed for Mexico City, or la Ciudad de Mexico, or el D.F. (pronounced day effay, which stands for Distrito Federal).
I arrived back at the Mexico City airport around 11pm, which I have decided is a labyrinth both in terms of its halls and its lack of credible gate postings, and I called the hostel I had reservations with. I was told before that a reservation at this hostel entitled me to free airport pickup, which would save me over 100 pesos (more than 10 dollars). So, I found a payphone and called the 800 number.
"The car will be white with no markings, a Nissan. What color is your baggage? Are you wearing pants or a skirt?" I suppose I have experienced sketchier?
The car arrived with the driver and a sidekick, neither of whom spoke to me very much. I will give them the benefit of the doubt that they didn't think I spoke Spanish? They drove me to the Hostel/Hostal Moneda on Calle de la Moneda (where did they ever think of that name??), I checked in, and in my half-asleep daze I signed up for a trip to the Pyramids for the next day. At 9am. And I actually got up and was clean and on time, somehow.

DAY ONE: MISSED WORM OPPORTUNITIES, PYRAMID SCALING, AND AN EARTH-SHAKING EVENT
At 9am pretty sharp for Mexican time, we headed out in two vans to go to the Plaza de las Tres Culturas, the Guadeloupe Shrine/Church, a Tequila/Mezcal/Pulque sampling, and the Pyramids. I sat in the front because I was solo, and the driver caught on that I spoke Spanish. I sometimes forget that intergender friendliness here almost inevitably leads men into mistakenly thinking the female is interested in them... maybe this is just with foreign women, I really don't know since I can't test it as a non-foreign woman... anyhow, my friendly conversation with the driver to practice Spanish and just chat ended with repeated invitations for personal dance lessons that I managed to nicely get out of.

The rundown of Day One: Plaza de las Tres Culturas, where some of the only remaining pre-Hispanic ruins in the actually city are, the Guadeloupe Shrine, where the supposed miracle image of Guadeloupe/the Virgin Mary can be found and where a church was built for her because of this miracle, and Tequila/Mezcal/Pulque sampling. All three of these alcoholic beverages are made from maguey, a cactus. I took a picture of the worm in the Mezcal, put it down, and then thought, "WAIT! I should drink it!!" only to turn around and see someone else on the trip ready to down the gusano. Next time.
Then we hit the pyramids. They are the Pyramide de la Luna (of the moon) and the Pyramide del Sol (of the sun). The Pyramid del Sol looks like the mountain range behind it, and the Pyramide de la Luna hides the mountain range behind it. If you follow the link at the bottom, you can see what I described. After hiking the mountains, I stopped into the restaurant/bar just outside the pyramid area with 2 British people I had climbed with, Jared and Jill. I was telling them never to pay over 20 pesos, maybe 25 for a beer in Mexico, when I found out our beers were 30 apiece.
I had dinner with Jared and Jill, and Jill tried my pollo en mole (chicken in MOH-LAY sauce). Her response? "If it looks like a mole, and tastes like a mole, don't eat it!" I happen to love the stuff. After this, we hit the hostel bar, where the bartender wasn't shy about pouring tequila down patrons' throats, and where I wasn't shy about asking the DJ to (attempt to) dance. Not sure what got into me. Oh yes I am: it comes from maguey.
Then, the room started moving, and my chair was rocking, and I thought, "I haven't had much to drink, but maybe I should stop, this doesn't feel right." The motion got stronger, and I told Jill I shouldn't drink anymore because things were moving and swaying, and she said they were for her too, and we realized what was the cause: an earthquake!! We weren't at the epicenter, where it was a 6 or so I was told, so it was only a 3 or 4 for us, but quite an experience to have and better than my first earthquake when we thought someone had driven a car into the building.

DAY TWO: DOWNTOWN, INSECT EATING, MUSEUMS, AND LUCHA LIBRE
The second day, I took the hostel's free walking tour of the downtown historical area. I saw the history of Mexico as painted by Diego Rivera, explored the National Cathedral, and entered the fanciest Post Office I've ever encountered. We also stopped at a market with food and Mezcal from Oaxaca, and one of the items available for sampling was fried grasshoppers. I'm not sure why, but I decided, Why not try? With lime, of course. An interesting thing to try, but they just crunch and don't taste like much.
I explored the Fine Arts museums and the National Museum of Anthropology by myself for the rest of the afternoon and early evening, and then at the last minute I decided to go to the Lucha Libre, or Mexican wrestling, even though I hate wrestling, because it might make for an interesting cultural experience. There were no tickets left at the hostel so I went anyway and bought a ticket from a guy selling them outside on the street. The most interesting thing for me was that when the bikini-clad women came out, the men didn't go much more crazy than they do when my female companions and I walk down the street... I expected them to fall over themselves because they're so rude to us, and we're clothed and not model-esque. They offered the bikini girls a few whistles and catcalls, but nothing too insane. Kind of a relief.

DAY THREE: MYO TOUR AND A FAIRY TALE EVENING
On Saturday, I wanted to go on the hostel's Frida Kahlo/Xochimilco tour or the market and Mexican cooking expedition, but they were both postponed till Sunday and I was leaving midday Sunday. So, I decided to make my own tour. I somehow made it the kilometer or so from the metro stop to Frida's house with a map and without getting lost once. There was a lot of interesting memorabilia, including the bed she died in and many letters between her and Diego.
The second stop was to be Xochimilco, a canal network just outside the city. I'd seen pictures of the colorful boats and really wanted to go, so I started to follow the directions in the Lonely Planet guide. It sounded painless: metro to Taxquena, light rail to Xochimilco, taxi or walk or bus it to the ports. As it turned out, the metro to Taxquena was closed and they were running extremely crowded bus transportation, and the light rail had 15 or so stops before Xochimilco. The whole trip took over an hour. I arrived and started asking around about prices for boat/gondola rides, only to realize that most people rent them as a family of 10 or so and that the public/colectivo boats weren't running (or no one was going to miss business telling me where they were). I finally struck a deal with one guy/company for a half-hour tour for 100 pesos. I hadn't hit an ATM and didn't know where to find one, it was late in the afternoon and I had ballet tickets, so the 30 minutes would have to do.
Families take these boats out and ride for the afternoon or the day, connecting with vendor boats to buy corn, snacks, meals, or mariachi services. They also stop in parks, garden shops, and ice cream stands. It was loud and chaotic, colorful and exciting, much like life in Mexico.
I took a colectivo bus and the subway back to my hostel, and I had to hustle because I had bought tickets to that night's ballet, La Bella Durmiente, or Sleeping Beauty, to be held in the Chapultepec Castle and performed by the National Dance Company. You can imagine why I couldn't pass this fairy tale up, and it seemed like a great first ballet. I didn't realize that the castle is actually a CASTLE, I think built by the Spanish during their days of Mexican occupation, and it is up on a hill offering an amazing view of Mexico City. I didn't bring my camera because if they weren't allowed in I would have nowhere to leave it, so I most unfortunately do not have pictures of the ballet or the castle and its view! Qué lastima.
I was pleasantly surprised by the view, and unpleasantly surprised at the attire. I came in capris, a sleeveless shirt, and tennis shoes because I hadn't brought anything formal for two weeks with one backpack. I'm 99% sure I was the worst dressed person there. But, it was an incredible show, with a real castle as the backdrop, and I got my program autographed by three of the lead dancers. I woke up the next day with the feeling that it had just been a dream, and had to think back on specific moments to convince myself that I really had been there.
On the subway home, I felt a bug in my hair and tried to swat it out. As it turned out, it was something with a stinger, and it sunk its sharpness into my index finger. I managed to remove the stinger and watched my finger redden and swell as I rode home. I would much rather be stung by five jellyfish than whatever got me in the subway.

LAST HURRAH
Sunday morning, I tried to go to the Casa de Francia (la Maison de la France, the French Embassy) before leaving the city, but it was closed. I looked again at the address in the Lonely Planet, and it said Monday-Saturday. My disappointment made it a little easier to leave the city.

Check out pictures here: http://bu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2135884&l=0d5bf&id=904160