I love rereading old stories. So in perfect timing, I was browsing through old documents on my hard drive and rediscovered "The Book," a fairly aptly named collection of old emails I sent out to family and friends when I first arrived to Mexico, apt due to its size, not necessarily its writing quality! I realized that the first of these emails, which I titled "Travel Installments" (obviously not realizing that travel would sort of seamlessly merge into living), was written yesterday 9 years ago - October 6, 2004. It was such fun to read. I saw it all now from a different perspective 9 years later. I thought you'd all enjoy it as well. Here it is:
Sent: Wed, 6 Oct 2004
20:13:53 -0500
Subject: Travel installment No. 1 - Mexico
City - sushi and world peace
Hello dear ones - just wanted to let you know that I made it! Travel was relatively easy yesterday, in spite of getting randomly selected for all the security searches I possible could have. Everyone was rather interested in my suitcase full of art supplies, and I practically ended up giving a lesson in linoleum block printing to the folks at the Mexican customs - all in good fun though! I think it served to distract them from the turkey jerky and dried mangoes I was smuggling in! I arrived in Mexico
City to a cool but humid soft rain, just enough to make the asphalt glisten in the street lights.
Post-work traffic had cleared out enough to allow breezing through the spaghetti of roadways, crisscrossing every which way. I wondered how people learned how to drive here, how they ever learned the roads, but the taxi driver was confident as he grooved out to some old disco tunes beneath the swaying of his rosary beads dangling from the rear view mirror. I was a bit punchy and in shock from suddenly being deposited in this place that I've been working my way toward for so long, so when we passed the glowing orange structure of a Home Depot, I didn't take it as a symbol of American consumer imperialism but rather as a bit of comfort and familiarity.
Arriving at Casa Gonzalez, the lady who greeted me was also familiar - I remembered her smiling face from July, and she graciously helped me struggle with my bags to my room. I've already learned a new word - pesado - it means heavy, which is what my bags were. My room is simple, but I love how even in the cheapest simplest rooms, the Mexicans will decorate with lovely painted tiles -little cobalt scrolls and curls to brighten up an otherwise dim and mildewy situation. When I ventured out for dinner, I was so thankful to already be familiar with the streets. I headed down a few blocks to a little pedestrian
zone filled with waiters calling me into their restaurants and I decided to take the feeling of back-home comfort a little further and went to Mr. Sushi. A little udon noodles, avocado rolls and green tea can go a long way! I think I'll eat there again tonight, and maybe give the tempura a try. Hey, I´ll have plenty of time to eat tortillas in the future - got to make the most of Japanese while I have it!
Today, I awoke under the full effect of altitude sickness. I felt like there was a truck parked on top of me, with a dose of dizziness and queaziness along for the ride. I forgot that I was suddenly at 7000-something feet, which is a walloping for my little sea-level body. When I finally rallied up around noon, and managed to get myself out for a cappuccino with cassis liqueur in it, I finally hit the metro for the purpose for which I had come - to visit the Basilica of Guadalupe. I had the same experience I had back in July with being the only blonde on the entire metro system. If they weren't checking me out overtly, then the locals were doing a little furtive sideways glance, probably just asking themselves what the hell I was doing there. I have yet to figure out how other foreigners travel about Mexico City.
At the Basilica, I was pretty much also the only foreigner there, except for a few photo-takers. I always have a bit of an internal conflict when I enter a Catholic church, feeling like an impostor in a place where perhaps I shouldn't be, not knowing whether to go through some parroted motion of crossing myself, or just do my own sort of prayer of asking for entry. But then if I don´t cross myself, my mind thinks that then I´ll be revealed for who I truly am, that somehow I don´t belong. So I always hesitate at the entryway, but once I cross over and feel welcomed into the sanctuary by the powers that are beyond my mind´s questions, well, then it doesn't matter anymore. I lit candles for everyone I know, for all the little prayers and big blessings, and I lit a candle for everyone I don´t know, for the vision of peace blossoming out across the globe, praying that it come soon, during our time here.
I began my slow climb up the hill behind the new Basilica, up to the cerro where Guadalupe appeared, where the Divine Mother has lived in the center of the Earth since the beginning of time and through all the passing cultures who have recognized her there. I walked past vendors hawking polaroids and rosaries, past young couples shielding their new babies from the sun in thick blankets, made my way up the curved stairs to my friends the Archangels who guard the top, who gaze out upon the world as sentinel and messenger of the Divine. Ah, there was Gabriel, who was my guide this whole time, who brought me here with strict and gentle coaxing. It was like seeing a brother again.
As I approached the very top, the blessed church with the most amazing mosaic ever, where I had been enraptured, besprinkled with holy water and visions last time, I discovered to my dismay that it was closed! A big neon orange sign was handwritten and crookedly taped to the door - Cerrado para remodelacion! I wasn't sure what to do at first - here I was approaching one of my most holy of holies, with milagros in hand for offering and thanks, and I find a massive door in front of my face. I guess Source is always testing us, so I just stood right in front of that door, and imagined myself inside, imagined the mosaic dove beaming its light and life blood upon me, imagined myself in the Center of all the power of La Virgencita. And wouldn't you know it, it worked. La Virgencita is after all larger than any stone walls or sparkling decorations. She is at the source of life itself. So after quite an altering experience, I humbly left my milagros on the rim of a stone font to the right of the door, not having anything to which to pin them, and wondered if pigeons would be attracted to the gold and carry them away, carrying my prayers into the wind, to be better heard I suppose.
Well, it is sushi time now, so I must depart (also because this ain't California
anymore, and people can smoke wherever they damn well please, including in internet cafes!). Tomorrow I will make my way to Teotihuacan, where the real work begins, you know, of letting go of my stories and mental structures, and reclaiming the true essence of who I am - just a little light effort, that´s all! Wish me light! So much love to you all, and I will be in touch when I can!
Blessings and love,
Emily
