Saturday, November 5, 2005

The hotel Montecarlo was very nice, but unfortunately had a really bad mosquito problem. After two nights of slapping ourselves awake every hour, we moved again. We had just settled into our new room when Michael realized he had left his camera in the old room. (Maybe now he won't roll his eyes when I check every drawer in the place before leaving a room...) He went racing back and the guy at the desk had it waiting for him. So that was nice.

Our new room at Hotel Zamora is sparely charming with one of those great window-balconies overlooking 5 de Mayo. The drawback is that it's "sin bano," but at least the price reflects that.

Today we had a good old-fashioned day of classic tourism. We took the metro out to Coyoacan to the Museo Frida Kahlo. Coyoacan used to be a separate town, until it got absorbed into Mexico City's urban sprawl. As someone who always... well, usually... takes such pains to remove evidence of my unibrow, I felt somewhat intimidated to visit the home of someone who has no such shame. But I like her work, and we're here in Mexico City, so we went.

Admission is $35 pesos. I tried to pay with a $100 peso note and was of course rebuffed. The change shortage again. But somehow I doubted this woman. I mean, we just stood in a whole line of paying tourists. Am I seriously to believe she doesnt have $65 pesos lying around?

The museum is pretty good, with quite a few examples of Kahlo's and Diego Rivera's work and some of her household things and special medical corsets. These things are obviously considered to be very, very precious because alarms are set to ping if you even get near the barrier ropes. I didn't see anyone intentionally reach out to touch anything, but there was a constant background of chiming alarms the whole time we were there.

We also watched a video about her life. It was all in Spanish, but was kind of illustrative and experimental with a unibrowed actress playing Frida through various points of her life, so we got the gist. During a scene in which she plays Frida getting drunk in a bathtub full of miniature paintings, we also got to see her topless, if that's important to anyone.

After that we went to the market at Plaza Hidalgo, and it was no joke. They had everything. I ate a Oaxacan tamale which I did not like at all. I was sad about that because I have loved tamales since way back when I was a kid and the only tamales I knew were the Hormel ones in a can. I was an adult the first time I had an authentic tamale and I felt like I had struck culinary gold. I'll need to remind myself not to order tamales when we get to Oaxaca. The corn is ground finer and doesnt have that nice hearty, crumbly taste. I don't know. It's just not nearly as good.

After wandering around the market, we went to the Museo de los Cultures Populares, which was showing an exhibition on Mexican immigration to the US. It looked really interesting, and I really wanted to read it, but it was all in Spanish. We need to hurry up and take some classes, because I feel like were missing out on a lot.

Then we went and had some sushi. I have missed sushi terribly. We also had some vegetable tempura, with the unexpected Mexican spin of adding avocado and plantain to the more familiar veggies. (The verdict: yum.) The highlight of the dinner was watching a father at the next table teach his son how to use chopsicks. Too cute.

 

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Mexico City's Metro. Viveros Station.

Signposts.

We get lost a lot.

Museo Frieda Kahlo (The Blue House). Hotlinking is stealing.

Michael with a Frida postcard in is pocket. I had to work really hard to get that smile out of him... this one is for you, Dee.

Dia de Muertos ofrenda on someone's porch.

Coyoacan Market.

Where's Waldo? Coyoacan Market.

I can only handle one bite of cotton candy, even when it's shaped like a sombrero. Coyoacan Market.

Mural at Museo de los Culturas Populares, Coyoacan.

Kiddie ride at Coyoacan Market.