What's Next? 47 Mexico 2012

By the way, gentle Reader, before you read this, in the eight years that have since traspired, I have concluded that I never did have a mental illness.  I was exhausted from trauma, but I was not sick.  Now read, please...

Tue., Mar. 6, 2012 at 6:28 p.m.

Not a lot happened today.  Yesterday I had breakfast with a young architect from Norway who is coordinating a UN project in Haiti where they are assisting in building earth quake proof housing.  I found her refreshingly sane and our conversation took many directions about urbanism, human rights, globalism, the economy, and by the time she'd finished her coffee we had almost saved the world! Today I wandered through Condesa, Chapultelpec Park and Polanco.  I found a beautiful quiet area of the park where I encountered a Canadian totem pole, given as a gift to Mexico in 1960 to commemorate the 150th anniversary of their independence.  Of course the plaque says nothing about which tribe the totem pole comes from nor even that it is from British Columbia.  Of course many people in Mexico aren't going to realize what a huge and diverse country is Canada, no more than many Canadians are going to realize that not all Mexicans wear sombreros to work every day.  Outside of the mounted police in Parque Alameda I haven't seen a single sombrero anywhere in this city. I stopped and observed some grackles in a puddle.  The long-tailed grackles  are quite abundant here and in the sunlight as you can see in this picture are very iridescent.  There was one grackle drinking from the puddle, then another, carrying a cheezee in its beak joined him and started dunking the cheezee in the water to moisten and soften it, then another one with a  cheezee came and did the same.  Just like they were dunking donuts in coffee.  Smart birds. I've been here almost three weeks and it feels like I live here.  It is rather strange not working right now.  It is nice being idle for a while but I miss my professional and domestic routines.  I was chatting this evening with Craig who is one of the owners of the bed and breakfast about my work in peer support.  I mentioned last night to him that I have recovered from a mental illness and it is rather a relief being able to be open about this with him here because it helps me better explain the kind of work I do, which is peer support work.  After telling him a bit more about my work and some of my clients, always maintaining confidentiality of course, I started feeling homesick and I realize that I miss my work at times, but that's fine because right now I am needing the rest even more. From the pedestrian causeway going into Chapultepec Park I looked down at the traffic on Avenida Constuyentes.  Fourteen lanes and I realized that there were people inside these cars, so I'm trying to re-imagine the traffic as human beings trapped inside metal.

Wed., Mar. 7, 2012 at 10:28 p.m.

I did much the same today.  Started the day having breakfast with a couple of ladies visiting from California.  They would like to visit Vancouver, especially to see the Gay Pride Parade.  Spent some time editing a short story and also sorting through personal baggage that often comes up when I'm travelling.  It can be isolating and I think this is healthy in a way because it forces one to face one's inner darkness and void and I think also to become more emotionally self-reliant.  Of course all these e-mails also help me feel connected with others.  But still it gets difficult because I'm away from familiar territory, although I am now somewhat familiar with Mexico City and my friends here at the Red Tree House also make it more bearable.  It would be different if I were staying  in an anonymous and impersonal hotel.  Right now I am weathering a bit of a personal crisis and I feel too fragile to deal with public transit so I'm just taking walks and doing cafe visits.  This is also causing me to appreciate the rest element of this trip, which is something I've been more or less neglecting for all the activity of seeing new places.  On my way to the park I ended up walking several blocks with a stranger who remarked to me while  we were waiting to cross a busy street that he calls the traffic in Mexico City "auto-diarrhea."  He works in computers and has been to Toronto.  He thinks my Spanish is very good.   Back at the hotel this afternon, I took a nap and worked some more on the short story (thanks Gay!) then went for dinner at El Pendulo, the bookstore restaurant.  (by the way, the curser on this laptop keeps jumping around. Frustrating!) Two of the servers are dating each other, and twice the young man has proudly announced to me that the young lady also serving me is "mi novia" or "my girlfriend," and she just beams with delight.  Very sweet people. I've had some interesting  chats with another waiter there who is studying psychology in university.  Of course, once again, the staff here are all dark skinned and the clientel are just as white as I am.  One pair of young women addressed the waitress (the one with the boyfriend) as though she were their servant. I wonder if one  reason I seem to connect well with some of the staff there is because to me they're peers and equals and they sense this from me. Much of the evening I spent chatting in  the courtyard with other guests over beverages.  Nice people, too older gay men from Toronto now living elsewhere in Mexico, two younger Argentinian gay men now living in Australia and a young straight couple from Denmark though he is Finnish and she is Liithuanian and Craig the owner.  Very enjoyable visit with nice people with a great sense of humour.  Well, it is way past my bedtime and I'm grumpy from fighting with this goddamn errant curser and yes I am cursing at the curser, so goodnight everybody.  And I am feeling a lot better now. Thu., Mar. 8, 2012 at 7:56 p.m. I have just been sitting this eveing alone and silent in the courtyard which my window and balcony overlook.  Even at night, with the strategic lighting you can see the principal colour scheme of the courtyard, vermillion and light Naples yellow with teraccotta tiles on the ground.  There are blue lights hidden in the many tropical leaves and shrubs and to a side three back lit cisterns, each producing a single spout of splashing water.  It is still raining lightly following a thunder shower but it is dry beneath the umbrella sheltering the table where I was seated, looking up at a vase full of tall fragrant yellow lilies.  I mentioned that I have to climb up and down thirty four steps every day.  And this evening I climbed down to refill my water bottle from the kitchen since the tap water here as we all know is not fit for human consumption.  In the courtyard grow two soaring jacaranda trees, ebullient with mauve blossoms that scatter the floor and stairs of the courtyard.  There is also an orange tree with ripe fruit.  I just picked one, it was like a tangerine, and fragrant as I peeled it, but sour so I had to throw it  away.  On my way back to the hotel today from dinner I passed by an open courtyard with an orange tree and the air was full of the indescribably lovely aroma of orange blossoms.   I am still scaling back my activities because I am needing quiet time more, time to contemplate, pray, think some things through.  For a while I feared that I might be having a mental health crisis but now I am aware that I seem to be experiencing a kind of spiritual awakening so I'm doing everything I can to cultivate this and to get a sense of what God might be saying to me.  I have come to realize that mental health crises can be easily confused with spiritual and existential crises and it is very important to learn to know the difference or else what could be a valid epiphany awakening could turn into a mental health crisis.   I walked over to Chapultepec Park again but the main entrance was closed because there was some kind of music event occuring and then I saw two young Mexican starlets with long flowing starlet hair running through a double cordon of police officers to a waiting van while fans were trying to take their picture and mostly male admirers begged for their autograph.   I just opend my door from where I am seated and now I hear the crickets singing in the garden.   So I took the long way around having to dodge piles of garbage and cross through dangerous traffic where I eventually found my way to the botanical garden on the other side of the park where I sat on a bench to calm myself hearing the raucous shouts of vendors from their stalls and tents on one side and the relentless roar of the traffic on El Paseo de la Reforma on the other side.  Then I went into Polanco to have a couple of fancy coffees with white chocolate and sweetened condensed milk in Cafe Habbana, and then walked on the boulevard Horacio till I came out into a park with a church on one side.  I sat for a while inside the church, then wandered to the other side of Polanco into a poor neighbourhood named Colonia Granada.  It is working class, but clean and the building facades are painted beautiful bright colours.  There is no graffitti anywhere practically, except on one single building, and this tells me the people who live here must love their community.  There is also an indoor market containing practically everything and full of people passing the time together with a muscian playing Andean flute music in the centre (he is very good by the way), and I am sure I was the only Gringo present.  The crickets are no longer singing, and I am going to read again the short story I am reworking.  All for now. Jane, you'd better look over your shoulder. Water no longer flows through these works of art.  These are some images of the water distribution centre that I visited today with Craig, the owner of the bed and breakfast.  The murals are by Diego Rivera, who was married to fellow artist Frida Kahlo, in 1951.  It was hard to find and we agreed to walk all the way and back which took about twelve or more miles under a blazing sun.  It was also an adventure for Craig because he got to see the park and parts of Mexico City through my eyes and experience and it was a treat for me because he was able to give me more background and insight on this wonderful city.  When we arrived at the water distribution centre we also saw four huge circular mounds, each about the size of a sports field with a tower in the centre that looked like something from Lord of the Rings, and surrounding each mound was an intricately carved and curving  stone serpent, which might also be the work of Diego Rivera.  Inside the water distribution centre where the murals are in the cistern below are brass tubular bells decorating opposing walls and somehow they are able to play the music of the moving and churning water underground.  It is a very haunting and soothing sound.  If you can imagine instrumental Gregorian chant this would be it, I think.  On the way back we stopped for cold drinks then continued through the rest of the park.  I was exhausted when I got back and needed an hour and a half on my bed before I could persuade myself to go out to eat.