Mexico City, 2009, 13

Thu., Nov. 12, 2009 at 2:48 p.m.

Not much to report.  I have loosened the purse strings and I´ve  been buying books in  Spanish to take home with me, being mindful of the limits my bags can hold when I get on the plane.  I went out to San Angel and looked in a huge mega bookstore that made me think of a cross between Chapters and the Book Warehouse.  They are on both sides of the street and when I went into the big store security at the door insisted on searching my knapsack when the alarm went off on my way in.  It was set off by a Spanish novel I bought second-hand in Vancouver and there is the possibility it might have been originally stolen from this store.  Ironically this store is called ¨Gandhi¨, which given their security paranoia strikes a little bit of discord.  To calm down I walked in the huge park across the street with trails laid out like a labyrinth.  In the back of the park is a ruin, it looks like the foundations of a small tower and I can´t tell if it´s Aztec or later since there is nothing to mark or identify it.  From there I went walking on a cobble stoned street that seemed to go on and on, taking me over a small stone bridge and past the usual charming cliches of colonial old buildings, cobblestones and bougainvillea and the like.  After about two kilometres I saw at the end of the road a street and twin arches and the spray of a fountain illuninated by the sun.  Then  it all looked familiar.  I had arrived at the coyote fountain in the zocalo of Coyoacan, having walked the distance from San Angel.  I particularly like Coyoacan, and if this was the only place I was able to visit, I would still come  to Mexico City. After wandering around  the town and stopping in a cafe (the one with the painted tables and chairs.  The table I sat at features two flying cows with bright blue wings over a sunflower field.)  Then I bought an edition of short stories of Oscar Wilde in a local bookstore, walked in los Viveros, and returned to San Angel along the same road I had come  on.  Back in San Angel I stopped in the cafe at another bookstore, named Octavio Paz after a prominent Mexican writer.  I found another book in Spanish (their store is huge and the selection fabulous), a translation of C. S. Lewis´ novel, ¨Till We Have Faces¨ which is a favourite of mine.  I took the subway home, which was packed.  Whenever I ride the Metro here I feel like I am totally immersed into Mexico City, living totally submerged into the lives of the people here.  Traffic has been awful as always.  Lots of beggars. (yes, I do give them money, if you must ask.) Fri., Nov. 13, 2009 at 1:12 p.m. I will begin with this entry from my personal journal today.  I keep a personal diary and try as much as possible to keep it separate from this e-journal so as not to bore all of you to death more than I already have: ´´This preparing to return home is almost like getting ready to die.  My month here in Mexico City has been like a life.  I have not seen everything in this city.  I haven´t even seen all I´d set out to see.  But I´ve seen enough.  Some things over and over, because they are too beautiful to see only once.  Today I discovered some new  places: the Rosario Castellanos bookstore, which is huge and impressive (has a cafe, by the way) and the beautiful church nearby.  And another boulevard (Alfonso Reyes) with a walk down the middle...Also this beautiful cafe with comfy chairs where I am sitting is something new for me. I went again and I believe for the last time to Chapultepec Park.  I visited the zoo.  There isn´t much about this park to hold  me.  It is beautiful enough but it doesn´t enchant me.  Same with the architecture.  There is nothing about Mexican architecture that excites me even though it is quite lovely.  I really love the flowers, also the butterflies.  The climate is pleasant.  In the mornings cold, but mild and pleasant throughout the day.  I am not crazy about the food  here.  I miss good cheese and peanut butter, and other food that I prefer.  The sun  and the days filled with light I really enjoy, and I am not eager to encounter the rain and the cool  tempuratures,  not to mention the darkness that winter brings us.  But I do miss the damp,  cool and oxygen-laden air.  I miss the ocean. I miss the quiet streets. I also miss my work.  I am almost addicted to what I do at work because I enjoy it so much.  My clients, equally my colleagues are like dear friends, but especially for  this reason I have had to give myself these weeks of rest in  order to avoid burn-out. I am very privileged to be  able to travel in order to experience different cultures and countries.  Finally I am able to enjoy this, and this can only greatly enrich my life.´´ I did get to walk along Alfonso Reyes  to the end where I came out onto a memorial park featuring the mounted busts of fourteen famous Mexican composers, one of whom is Consuelo Velasquez (she composed  the famous song ¨Besame mucho¨).