It’s early Wednesday in Roma and it is fountain cleaning day.
In Plaza Rio de Janiero, a man wrapped in plastic is balanced with a fire engine style hose atop a 17ft tall imitation David’s foot, blasting water upon his torso. Below, four men in matching orange & beige jumpsuits with remarkably similar haircuts wield wide street brooms and scrub patinaed blue basin. There are two tightly leashed Huskies who are intensely watching the activities of the fountain. A man pushes a rusted cart in front of him, atop it sits a woven basket overflowing with pan dulce covered with flimsy wax paper and a large orange gatorade style beverage dispenser with cafe de olla steam sliding out against cool morning area.
Obviously haven’t felt much like writing.
I keep trying on hats and discarding them. I think I’m recognizing more and more that I don’t feel called to anything in particular at the moment. That there’s no perfect fit and that this is just gonna be exhausting. I can’t quite suss out how much exertion vs compassion I should offer myself at this juncture and for whatever reason I am highly emotionally committed to the notion that there is some ideal balance of the two that will result in complete inner peace. The brain remains unconvinced. I’m at a point where I’m angry with myself for every time I miss him. He was, through his utter terror of vulnerability, quite mean to me. And all the energy I used to invest in explaining away on his behalf both makes me livid and is also such an ingrained habit that even now I find myself justifying his behavior and language.
Life here is dusty right now. Mexico City is definitely in the height of its dry season and this is a whole new cleaning challenge that I am wildly ill prepared for. The dust, dirt? sand?, what are these tiny particles?, regardless, it’s inexorable and sneakier than me. It wafts under doorways and off Leo’s coat. Who am I kidding? It wafts off me too, maybe even the most. I am not accustomed to dirt not staying still. I have, however, made myself the Christmas purchase of an air purifier and a vacuum and have renewed vigor in my fight against tiny particulate matter.
Leo and I went on a long walk to investiage the Monumento a la Revolución, which, in spite of being unexpectedly thrust into the middle of a fair, was still impressive and I’m excited to go back and actually go to the museum it houses. I don’t know much about it, but I do know that it was conceived and funded initially by Porfirio Diaz and now houses the remains of the revolutionaries who ended his reign. In related news, apparently there’s a massive Christmas fair that surrounds the monument and branches out down the calles for blocks in most directions. And featured, at minimum, 3 moderately sized ferris wheels. I know this because I used the first one I encountered as a landmark and that there were additional ferris wheels did not serve me well.
The other semi amazing thing I discovered were these in the depths of this fair is…
From best I can tell, they provide costumes and make you a calendar or a photo. And there were a TON of these stands. Although the above pic represents the majority thematically, there was also some classic Disney, a racecar one, and a few super hero options. Incidentally, these also often featured crying children.
We continued on our walk toward Alameda Central Park, which is the oldest public park in the Americas, dating back to 1592. It also boasts a hefty number of founntains for a relatively small park. And Leo is partial to a fountain.
I am drawn to understanding the country through its history, as though I can’t understand anything about its present without knowing where it came from. And while much of me feels like this would be the standard approach, ex pats I’ve met here have demonstrated otherwise. This urge is further fueled by the city itself. What’s this thing I’ve stumbled upon? Unmarked and tucked across the street from the park? Empty on a beautiful Saturday while balloons, tortas, and pelotas are being pitched about, cried over, and capturing the attention of onlooking pigeons just across the street. Also, what is that giant blue suited man doing there?
Last Sunday was my first day of volunteering at the chinampas in Xochimilco, specifically at Chinampa Nantli. So far, this is basically weeding… If you’ve talked to me in the last 2 months, you’ve definitely heard about this. Probably at length. If you’ve somehow missed this here are a few good articles: National Geographic & UN FAO: Globally Important Agricultural Heritage Systems & actually, the Xochimilco wikipedia page ain’t bad.
Really, really short version. This is a large and ancient area in southern Mexico City that’s part agricultural, part city, part nature preserve, part tourist trap, and because it’s on the edge of a city with a housing problem, part squatting grounds. The endangered axolotl is endemic to this area and really it’s pride and joy.
From left to right: The non touristy embarcadero, nasturiums!, some stunning rainbow chard. This farm mostly sells product to local restaurants. It’s a sustainable space, with a compost toilet, solar power, and a system of harnessing the gas from cow manure to power an outdoor kitchen. They are also in the process of building a axolotl sanctuary. Omar, the owner, used to be a lawyer in the city, but missed time with his family and his connection with the land and decided to quit and return to farming life. Chinampa Nantli has been in his family for many generations, but he has reinvigorated it with an eye environmental stewardship. He also works closely with some folks at UNAM (the major university here which is well respected across the world) who are looking at using different types of microorganism to combat pollution in the canals and various invasive species clean up projects.
I hate to leave y’all abruptly, but Leo is very much in need of another walk.
Year One Project 
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