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Tale
Two - Mexico City - by Malik
I rang up my email friend, Sylvia. She promised to come next
day at 10 am. I didn't believe her as Mexicans' attitude towards
time was reportedly flexible. But Sylvia came on the dot, dispelling
all doubts. She was slim and energetic and suggested a long
walk in the downtown. That was a wind-fall: not only did it
suit my style; it provided me with a trusted guide in a city
infamous for pick-pocketing, mugging and rip-offs.
We passed by monuments, parks, fountains and tree-lined avenues.
Soon we turned onto side streets which were narrow and crowded.
Of the 25 million people living in Mexico city, as many as 6.25
million were said to be young entrepreneurs or comerciantes,
willing to buy or sell anything, in the street or off the street.
It could be electrical appliances, clothes, computers, cameras
or foods. We went through diversified areas studded with bookstores,
bars, cafés, butcher shops, auto repairs and hat-shops.
The street-life became more vibrant and colourful with dare-devil
live performances of fire-swallowers, jugglers and acrobats.
Sylvia suggested to go on the top of the tallest building in
Mexico, Latin American Tower, with a height of 181.33 metres.
For a small charge, we were taken to 44th floor by a fast lift
and had a magnificent view of the city. We could see 747s flying
in front of us. Also we saw an endless urban sprawl filling
up the Valley of Mexico right to its brim. Yellow smog covered
the skies. Being at an altitude of 2,300 m and ringed by mountains,
there were many problems. Fresh water could not be brought in
and waste water not thrown out. The sub-soil had turned soft
causing many old buildings to sink or shatter.
Despite all this, it was fascinating to walk in the alleys and
avenues of the city. At long last, we reached Zocalo. In fact,
Zocalo is a generic name for a city-centre. In Mexico City,
it was a great square, second only to Red Square of Moscow.
Surrounded by imposing colonial monuments, the Zocalo was throbbing
and pulsating with rhythmic beat of drums and the ankle-rattles
of the native dancers. A giant Mexican flag was also fluttering
to contribute to the razzle-dazzle.
In 1978, when underground tunnel work was being carried out
for the Metro, the digging led to the discovery of ruins of
a great Pyramid. This was a reward for the awesome work in the
face of sub-soil water problems. The Metro Project was successfully
completed and had diluted the transport problem to some extent.
The Pyramid was well-preserved and could only be reached and
seen through a series of catwalks ending at the door of a museum,
which showcases the relics of gold, silver and jade found on
the site.
Once Zocalo had a palace of Montezuma who was last Aztec emperor
in Mexico. He was overthrown by the Spanish and his palace razed
to the ground. Though it was a long time ago, back in 1520,
Montezuma continued taking his revenge. A dreadful stomach disorder
is known as "Montezuma's Revenge" and is caused by
use of tap water, ice cubes, raw vegetables or raw fruit.
We were now feeling hungry and looked for a place to eat. There
were plenty of restaurants, fondas and stalls. We selected a
café only because it appeared clean and tidy. For myself,
I asked for a low-fat "enchiladas" made with chicken,
tomato sauce and with very little cheese. Sylvia ordered Quesadillas
(fried tortilla with a lot of cheese). (Tortilla is a soft thin
patty, made from corn or flour. The Mexican food is often hot
and can be tongue-blistering. It can bring tears to the eyes
and sweat to the forehead. The best antidote is a dairy product
such as milk or cream.)
By the evening we were in Zona Rosa (the pink zone). It has
been designed for pedestrians. Wide brick paths wove through
well-pruned shrubs and statues. All streets were closed to auto
traffic. Pedestrians leisurely strolled past the restaurants,
bars, night spots, boutiques, art galleries, bistros, and road-side
cafes.
It was getting late for us though the night-life had just begun.
We hurried towards our hotel via Paseo de la Reforma, the city's
main thoroughfare. This elegant boulevard was lined with dozens
of magnificent monuments, modern high-rise office buildings,
embassies, luxury hotels, colonial mansions and shaded pedestrian
promenades. It reminded me of Manhattan in New York while boulevard
was a copy of Champs Elysees in Paris.
At about 10 pm, we were back to the hotel and headed straight
for the dining hall. I ordered garlic soup since the temperature
had dropped down and it became a little chilly. While we were
slurping the soup, a gentleman came towards us. Sylvia got up
greeting him and introduced him as her ex-husband. I could not
believe my ears; in my country a divorcee would vow not to see
the ex- in this lifetime. She went back with him as he was incidentally
in the city and more than willing to give her a ride back home.
Maybe they patched it up on the way. I returned to my room and
slept like a log.
Hafeez ur Rahman Malik, Karachi-Pakistan.
Submitted: 7 September 2002
Next: Tale 3 - A day trip around Mexico
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Malik
- Pakistan
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