10/20 Morning in Coyoacan

An old man on the corner is playing trumpet in the sorrowful tones of a smoggy New York morning, you know the tune, but it’s 9am on Saturday and the streets are beginning to stir. Marigolds perk up the walls of Cafe Olvidado as patrons sip cafe de olla from charmingly unique clay mugs. And indeed olvidado it seems, like a relic. The noise of the city makes these tranquil moments magical. Across the street a small and quiet park sits with blue stone benches, angel’s trumpet, blooming canna lilies, and immense loquat trees . At the back a wall displays a yellow mural depicting a woman with a baseball cap saying “Propriedad de nadie”

Leo & I have landed safe n sound! Suffice to say, he handled the flight business better than me and was wagging his tail about 10 minutes out of the crate.

I still feel pretty fragile, like I’m made of some thin tin and parts have rusted off and I need to be careful and self protective to allow it to heal and grow back, as though I’m a zombie with big gaping holes that will close with time and care, but for now are sore & raw. I’m both still surprised by the hurt, the suddenness and yet also so deeply tired of being sad. It’s not that I’m unsure if I’ll be ok, it’s not that I think I’m doing or feeling anything wrong, it’s just a weariness attached to recognizing how much grief just sucks.

A new environment with new challenges has been helpful in getting me out of my head and more effective into cheating myself into forgetting for awhile.

Leo & I are currently in Coyoacan, a southern neighborhood of Mexico City, most famously home of Frida Kahlo. But also home to cobblestone streets, colonial houses dwarfed by bougainvillea, a multitude of charming small churches down narrow alleys and one of my favorite coffee shops in the world. So there is also a lovely familiarity. For examples, molletes:

If you haven’t already heard my diatribe on molletes: I will never understand why this isn’t a commonly available Mexican food in the US. Take a bolillo (a baguette would work), saute it lightly. Smother it with rich refried black bean paste, top with cheese and make it all melty. Add toppings, usually mashed avocado, sometimes meats, pickled red onion, nopales and then serve with a fresh pico de gallo. This one is topped with sprouts and came with jugo verde and a cafe de olla. This might be my ultimate comfort food. And I love that for Mexican breakfast the combos always come with both a juice and a coffee in recognition that these are two wildly different needs. Some things here just make more sense.

Leo has a new best friend. It’s the car park man at the church up the street. Most of you probably know that churches here come with a plaza. In Coyoacan in particular, church plazas are landscaped, have benches and are communal gathering areas. So this particular one is a neighborhood staple and where all the dogs come to pee, poop & hang out, because in dog land those all happen in the same place. There is also the car man. This is an individual who directs you into a street spot and to some varying degree guards your car while you are away. On occasion they wash your windows too. One staple requirement of this work is to have a truly excellent whistle. If you are a Mexican dog this of literally no interest, however Leo cannot resist. Turns out our car park man is a dog lover, the upshot of which is that Leo & him have a 5 minute love affair every time we pass the church, which is both adorable and time consuming.

Yesterday we went on a long early morning walk about the neighborhood before I headed out to the desfile de alebrijes.

I love early mornings in big cities. It always feels like you’ve stumbled on something special in that moment of almost eerie calm. It’s like snow has fallen and buffered all sound. Coyoacan is a huge area. It used to be it’s own village until being incorporated in the Distrito Federal aka Mexico City (ok, I believe there is some historical distinction, but I am definitely still building my knowledge of Mexican history) in 1857. The name Coyoacan comes from Nahuatl, an Aztec language, and can be loosely translated as “Place of the Coyotes”.

Additionally my favorite churreria is right across the street. They gave Leo a free mini churro. Leo then stole a whole churro from me. He’s a fan.

This is the Chapel of Santa Catarina, founded by the Franciscans in the 1500s. It’s emblematic of what the small neighborhood churches look like and the earlier mentioned plazas associated with them.

What you can’t see is a wonderfully decorated restaurant with a really nice enchiladas de mole. This is also where I once witnessed wait staff put a roman candle atop a birthday cake and light it.

In the afternoon, I met up with my friend Fran and her friend Laura in the main square to check out the Alebrije Parade, which featured cheerleaders, giant alebrijes on carts, and marching bands, who frequently played what an American would know as the college football song.

We wound having lunch at a restaurant off the plaza with a large balcony and an amazing view of the National Cathedral, though a somewhat distant view of the parade itself.

It looks as though I’ve found myself an apartment in La Romita, so more updates will follow on that. Today was an epic adventure to Costco, to accrue various supplies like towels, pillows, and, of course, toilet paper. Bonus find Noche Buena beer! A favorite of Fran’s & mine, but difficult to procure. This was exactly like going to Costco on a Sunday, but punctuated by using an Uber having purchased a bit more than anticipated, as one is wont to do at Costco.

For those of you who don’t know, I’m considering graduate school and am taking a few classes this quarter to bolster my application and to that end will now abandon this to get some actual work done.