MICHAEL GRAF

VOL.4NO.6 1989

This morning I woke up
slightly dazed and woozy. I
stepped into the bathroom just
in time, the explosion coming
just as I fell towards the seat.
How many spicy Tacos can I
survive?

A few observations ona
two week trip to Mexico:

Communication: “Thé
Negre” and I add, “por favor.”

“Si, cafe con leche”.

“No, ah, T H E, ah, negre.”

“Ah, Cafe Americanos.”

“Thé, The Negre, Black tea,
thé.”

“Si senior”. He returns a
few moments later. I lean over
ever so slightly and peer into the
cup. Brown. It looks suspi-
ciously like Java.:

“Esta es Cafe’’?

“Si es Cafe”. I thank him
and contemplate the fates.

The Pyramids: Its stag ger-
ing to think that thousands of
people worked millions of hours
just so I can, in the year 1989, sit
on top of this magnificent struc-
ture, two hundred feet above the
plains. The wind is caressing my
hair, the sun my face; I feel like
an Aztec, his kingdom spread
below him. Two kilometers
away are the public buildings.
Two very long kilometers away
and two hundred feet down very
steep steps are the.bathrooms. I
take flight, comforted only by
the fact that Ihave my own toilet
paper in my pocket. As I race
towards salvation I admire the

plazas, the temples
and all the wall re-
liefs. You’ll have to
go there yourself to
fully appreciate the
moment. Teotihua-
canis located anhour
and a half from
Mexico City.

The City:
Twenty eightmillion
people. God’s joke
on humanity. The
entire population of
Canada. More
people than you can
shake a stick at.
Mexico City also has

more cars than any other place. The smog is so
thick that sky scrapers two blocks away disappear
into oblivion. Earthquakes and man work hand in
hand in the continuous evolution of this gigantic
organism. The streets are jammed with vendors,
entertainers and just loafers.

Bartering:
“Very cheap sen-
ior” “Quantos”.

“Ten thousand,
mas fina.”

“Eleven thou-
sand” I say quite
smugly.

“Nine thou-
sand, mas barrato.”

“Twelve thou-
sand” meaning to go
higher if need be.
But alas she re-
lented before I
reached the limits of
my wallet. Curi-
ously, she went
away singing, while
I was trying desper-
ately to sort out this
feeling of confu-

sion.

The Street So-
ciety: Without this,
Mexico City would
be just another
Paris. We walk,
astounded. We
walklong miles; the

city has no end. Yet, there can be huge public
squares with cyclopean monuments that are de-
serted as a ghost town. This is a city where the
stone age runs head first into the space age. Street
vendors abound selling the latest in micro-tech
junk to Indian children visiting from the country-
side. Cantinas, music, people, colour. And sol-

diers standing guard,
protecting the banks.
Not all is right be-
hind the facade.

To the south-east
of Mexico City lies
the state of Tabasco.
It is almost as hot as
its saucier namesake.
The people are an-
other story. Having
long been under suf-
fering contact with
capitalist oilmen hav-
ing a fairly decent
standard of living, the
populace does not
have to bow to the
tourist dollar. Thus

the going can get a bit
harsh. In the city of
Villahermosa there is
a park that is a direct
consequence of the oil
boom. La Venta Park
is a site reconstruction
of Olmec statuary. It
has lost something in
its relocation but the
sculptures still demand
close scrutiny and ad-
miration.

The Church: Just
a little distance from
San Cristobal in the
mountains lies a little
town. Wehadtopay to
get into their church.

Does the Pope know about this? I was a little
miffed; after all, I am a Catholic. Inside were
family groups gathered in small circles, praying
and chanting. Before them stood Pepsi bottles
and baskets of eggs. Around the perimeter stood
the saints, waiting patiently for the coming of

their special day.
The smoke from
the candles and
the incense
curled up
through the
beams of light.
The feeling was
of some mysteri-
ous pagan ritual,
a surreal mix of
Catholicism and
Maya. Outside
the gate'stood the
guardians, ma-
chete in hand.
Rumour has it
that a few years
ago two German
tourists lost their
heads over some
teligious indis-
cretion. We were
very careful.
Bus Travel:
It’s something
you want to
avoid for as long
as_ logistically
p.0-S:S4_b Le.
Cramped, hot,
diesel, bumpy,

distressing and exciting are just some of the words
heard in a special survey. Actually, if you know
what to expect, bus travel can be the best way to
go. The one thing to avoid at all costs is the very
front seat. It gives one the somewhat thrilling
view of oncoming traffic. Mexicans do not drive
as do other North Americans: life is cheap.

Another thing toremem-
ber is not to drink too
much as the stops are in-
frequent on long hauls.
And unless one has a
cast-iron bladder the
curves and bumps will
surely take their toll.

More pyramids.
More art. And so on.
Oh, and more culture.
On to the beach.

The Beach: The
incredibly beautiful
heart-stopping expanse
of white sand. Zippo-
lite: the name is legend
among those that spend
their lives searching for

the perfect wave. So we have one
full day at the azure waters. We
find the perfect hotel, witha great
restaurant, and we look forward
to tomorrow. Lost in anticipa-
tion, I fall down the stairs. My
ankle is very bruised. I spend the
day looking wistfully out to.sea,
watching my friends play in
emerald waters.

A thing to remember, Squirt
is way better than Sprite. There
was food on the grill that didn’t
look familiar at all, and my Span-
ish wasn’t good enough to under-
stand what it was. It smelled and
looked like nothing I had experi-
enced. Maybe notunderstanding
can sometimes be a good thing.

Should I have mentioned the
other seventeen people on the
trip? They can tell theirownstory;
I don’t want to get into any
trouble. There is so much more
— the air, the flowers, the starry
nights, the fiestas, the long walks,
experiences piled on top of one’
another, and there is no real jus-
tice in words.

One thing I can tell you, if
you promise notto tell anyone: at
the pyramids, at their base, if you
look carefully, you can find
remnants of another age, the
pottery shards of the ancient Az-
tecs, Olmecs, Zapotecs. Or so
tells me the man I bought them
from.

by MICHAEL GRAF

‘This morning I woke up
Slightly dazed and woozy. I
stepped intothe bathroom just
in time, the explosion coming
Just as fell towards the seat.
How many spicy Tacos ean I
survive?

‘A few observations on a
{oro week trip to Mexie

Communication: “Thé
Negre” and Ia, “por favor.

"Si, cafe con leche”.
“No, hy THEE, a, neg.”
“Ah, Cafe Americanos.”
“Thé, The Negre, Black ea,

ne?

"Si senior". He retums a
few moments later, lean over
verso slighily and peer into the
‘cup. Brown. It looks suspi-
cou ike Jav

“Extaes Cafe"?

"Si es Cafe". thank him
snd contemplate the fates

"The Pyramids: Its stagger-
ing to think that thousands of
people worked millions ofhours
Justsol can, in the year 1989, sit
‘ontop of this magnificent struc-
ture two hundred fet above the

‘Thewindiscaressing my
Jai, dhe sun my face; [feel ike
an Aztec, his kingdom spread
below him. Two kilometers
away are the public buildings.
‘Two very long Kilometers away
and wo hundred feat down very
steep steps are the bathrooms. I
take flight, comforted only by
the factthatThavemy ovniolet
paper in my pocket. As Irace
towards salvation I admire the

TF

plazas, the temples
nd all the wall re
liefs. You'lhavew
{0 there yourself to
fully appreciate the
moment. Teothus-
canislocatedanhour
and a half from
Mexico City

The City:
“Twentyeightmilion
people. God's joke
on humanity. The
entire population of
Canada. More
people than you can
shake a stick at
MexicoCityalsohas
more cars than any other place. The smog is 30
thick that sky seraperstwoblocks away disappear
intooblivion. Eethquakes and man workhand in
‘hand inthe continuous evolation ofthis gigantic
organism. The sects are jammed with vendors,
entertainers and just loafers.

Barterin
“Very cheap sen-
jot” *Quantos”.
“Ten thousand,
smas fina."
“Eleven thov-
sand” [ say quite
smugly.
‘Nine thou-
sand, mas barrio.”
“Twelve thou-
sand” meaning ogo
higher if need be.
But alas she re-
Tented before 1
reachedthelimitsof
my wallet, Curi-
ously, she went
away inging, while
Iwas tying desper-
aly tosortoutthis
feeling of confu-

‘TheStreet So-
ety: Withouthis,
Mexico City would
be_just_ another
Paris, We walk,
astounded, We
‘walklongniles; the
city has no end. Yet, there can be huge public
‘squares with eyelopean monuments that ae de-
sorted asa ghost town. This is a city where the
‘stone agerunshea frstintothespaceage. Sweet
vendors abound selling the latest in microstech
junk wo Indian children visting from the country
side, Cantnas, music, people, colour. And sol-
ier standing guard,
protecting the banks.
Not all is right be
hind the facade
‘Tothesoutheast
of Mexico City ies
the state of Tabasco,
tis almost as hot as
itssauciernamesake.
‘The people, are an
other story. Having
Jong been under suf
fering. contact with
capitalistoilmenhav-
ing. a fusly decent
standardotiving,the
populace does not
have 0 bow to the
tourist dollar. Thus

R GODDAM TRAVELOGUE |

the going ean get abit
harsh. In the city of
Villahermosa there i
a park that i a direct,
consequence of the oil
boom. La Venta Park
cof Olmee stamary. It
has lost something in
its relocation but the
seulpturesstilldemand
close sertiny and ad-
‘TheChureh: Just
‘ite distance from
‘Sen Cristobal in the
‘mountains lies linle
town. Wehadtopayto
et into their church.
Does the Pope know about this? Iwas « litle
siffed; after all, 'am a Catholic. Inside were
family groups gathered in small circles, praying
‘and chanting. Before them stood Pepsi botles
‘and baskets of eggs. Around the perimeter stood
the saints, waiting patiently forthe coming of
their special day.
‘The smoke from
the candles and
the incense
curled up
through the
‘beams of light.
‘The feling was
‘ofsomemystri-
us pagan ritual,
a surreal mix of,
Catholicism snd
Maya. Outside
thegatestoodthe
guardians, ma-
ccheto in hand,
Rumour has it
that a few years
ago two German
tourists lost their
heads over some
religious ini
cretion, Wewere
very careful
Bus Travel:
W's something
you want to
‘void fora long,
as logistically
possible
ramped, hot,
diesel, bumpy,
distressing andexcitng ae justsomeof the words
heard ina special survey. Actually, ifyou know
what to expect, bus travel ean be the best way 10
go. Theone thing to avoid atall ost the very
front seat. It gives one the somewhat thing
view of oncoming raffic. Mexicans donot drive
4s do other North Americans: life is cheap.
‘Another thing oremen-
ber is not 1 drink 199
‘muchas the stop aren:
frequent on long haus
And unlest one has
castion bladder the
curves and bumps will
surely ake ther tll
More. pyramids.
More art. And s0 on
(Oh, and more culture,
‘On to the beach
‘The Beach: The
incredibly beautiful
heart-stopping expanse
‘of white sand. Zippo:
lite: the name is legend
among those that spend
thei ives searching for

theperfeet wave, Sowehaveone
{all day atthe azure waters. We
findthe perfecthotl witha great
restaurant, and we look forward
‘o tomorow. Lost in antici
‘ion fall down the stars. My
ankleisvery bruised. Ispend the
day looking wistfully out sea,
watching my friends play in
emerald waters

‘A thing to remember, Squirt,
is way bower than Sprite. There
‘was food on the geil that didn't
look familiar atal, andmy Span:
{shwasn't good enough tounder:
stand what twas, Itsmelled and
looked like nothing Uhad experi
enced, Maybenotunderstanding
‘can sometimes be a good thing.

‘Should Thave mentioned the
‘other seventeen people on the
‘ap? They cantelltheirownstory,
T don’t want 10 get into any
‘wouble. There is so much more
=the air, the lowers, the starry
rights, the fiestas, thelong walks,
‘experiences piled on top of one
‘another, and there iso tealjus-
toe in words

One thing ean tell you, if
‘youpromisenotiotellanyone: at
the pyramids, attheir base ifyou
look carefully, you can find
remnants of another age, the
pottery shards ofthe ancient Az-
tees, Olmecs, Zapotecs. Or 50
tells me the man I bough them
from.

by MICHAEL GRAF