El Petén

Below is a picture of a bank that is a couple of blocks away from my hostel. It was Thursday the 10th of January, 2013 and I had about another three nights left to stay in Mexico before my flight, scheduled to leave early Sunday morning the 13th of January. I went to the "cajero" to make a withdrawal but it wouldn't cough up my cash. I hate it when that happens, don't you?

Bank in Coyoacan

Thursday morning the internet was down at the hostel so I decided to go to a cafe nearby and use their wi-fi to check my account online. I apparently kept typing the wrong password because the bank "froze" my account for twenty-four hours which (I believe) is why I couldn't withdraw funds. I was successful the following morning though.

Hours later, on Thursday afternoon I told my new Italian friend Eola Benedetta what had happened. "I am definitely going to have to watch my spending now", I told her. I needed to either change to a more inexpensive place to stay or buy no more beer and that is not fun in warm Mexican weather. She said "just come stay with us". So, in the interest of saving money and hanging out with these guys that were very nice, I accepted her offer. Eola Benedetta and American Bryant Bell, whom I had met in Oaxaca a week earlier, came to see me in Coyoacán so that the three of us could hang out and go see the Leon Trotsky museum together. After seeing the museum I returned with Eola to her home on Petén street, Colonia Letrán Valle, Mexico City. Here she shared a house with about nine others, sort of a frat house.

Leon Trotsky Museum.

 For Petén definition, click here: Petén

Mention should be made that these two, Eola and Bryant, both foreigners, had become a part of Mexican living with such great Spanish and people skills. I tip my sombrero to these guys who were so kind to me as well.

Eola Benedetta and Bryant Bell in Oaxaca.



Here are some images of my last three days at Calle Petén. 

Getting ready to eat Maya's delicious Chicken Tikka Masala.

Eola and Oscar.

Daniela and Julio.

A walk in the park with Paola and her dog Tulio.

Shopping with Maya.

One more of Tulio because he was such a good boy.

Eola is now back in Italy. She and the rest were very hospitable and fun to hang out with. Traveling without veering off the beaten path is in my view boring and can also be expensive. More on that in a later post.

In this household there were people from at least four differing countries aside from various regions of Mexico. 

Below is a list of countries represented by other interesting and fun people I have met over the past year on my three trips to Mexico. 

Canada

Dominican Republic

Brazil

Argentina

Peru

Venezuela

Korea

Austria

Spain

Italy

Australia

Taiwan

France

Algeria

Bulgaria

Germany

Denmark

Israel

U.S.A.

Holland

Switzerland

Cuba                                                               Hasta pronto amigos.

                                                                        

                                                                       Eric

[edit]

How Embarrassing / Que Vergüenza

My first visit to Coyoacan in December of 2011 started with my going to the wrong address where I had reservations. I arrived around midnight at Colonia del Carmen in the historic center of this delegacion / borough. I had taken a taxi from the airport, a big Suburban, I was the driver's only passenger. Streets at that hour are fairly empty and the drive only took twenty minutes. I rang the door bell convinced it was the address I had seen on the internet for Hostal Cuija. The five minute silence had me a little concerned. I kept ringing and finally a voice; "¿quien?" (who?). I identified myself and a man came to the door. It was the hostel owner, sleepy eyed he said it was actually across the street and that this was the main office and his family residence. He was polite, considering, and walked me to the actual location where I would stay. The tough looking taxi driver even hung around until I knew where I'd be staying the night. I thanked him and he left.

Hostal Cuija

The following day I walked the three blocks to the Frida Kahlo museum (La Casa Azul). There, I introduced myself to a man in a suit, one of the staff members. I told him I believed my father was born in the house directly next door and he introduced me to the museum director. My father would tell me "eramos vecinos de Frida Kahlo" (we were Frida Kahlo's neighbors). The gentleman showed me the way to "El Cristo" which according to my father was the home he was born in. Nicer homes in those days were given names. They had torn down the wall separating the two houses and made it part of the museum. It even has a cafe now. The staff was very kind and interested in my story. Even a Mexican tourist who overheard me asked me questions and seemed impressed. 

Inside I walked through each room tearfully pondering the history of this house. Wondering to myself, could this be the room where my father was born? "There were parts of a famous Mexican silent film made here in this very house as well", I told those around me listening. The name of this movie is "El Automovil Griz". I had drawn some attention with my obvious passion and for the things I was saying. I even felt like I could have been one of the guides. The staff member showed me around a little more and left.

Months later I finally rechecked my father's "Registro Civil", the official document showing the birthplace, signed by witnesses etc. To my embarrassment it said he was born in a house on Avenida Miguel Hidalgo, "numero 14". My father said they were neighbors which was true, however, not directly next door.

Que vergüenza .

Frida's birhtplace. Photo by: Arlette Jalil.

View of museum and neighboring house. Photo: Arlette Jalil.

View from Frida's patio towards neighboring house.

                                                                   

Tejas

A couple of days ago, February 2nd, was the 165th anniversary of when Mexico sold a very large part of its country to the United States. It was called the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo. If the two countries had not made this agreement in which Mexico only made $15 million, as a resident of the great state of Washington I'd only have to drive a few hours to be in Mexico. That's the 42nd parallel where California and Nevada are. I would have lived on the Texas/Mexico border when I was a resident of Corpus Christi, Nueces County, Texas as the Nueces River was the border in 1848, when the treaty was signed. Then it became the Río Bravo (Rio Grande in the U.S.A.) as it's known in Mexico. This was mainly president Polk's doing.

By the way, did you know that the original spelling of Texas was Tejas? Tejas comes from the Caddo Indian language and means "friends" or "allies". Hmmm.

Though I lived several years in south Texas and even on the border, it has been a number of years since I have returned to visit. Nowadays I fly to Mexico City to develop a new tour business, Coyoacán Walking Tours. I am very patient when it comes to starting this new venture as 1. I intend it to be a slow growth to ensure quality service 2. I am working on a second addition to a little book I wrote 3. I'm having fun so why get in a hurry?

So, in the past year I have visited Mexico City and other locations three times. Coyoacan, a borough of Mexico City has become my "headquarters" and home away from home. It's also where my father was born and where we begin our tour itinerary.

On my visits what has impressed me so much is the friendliness of most of the people, even with Mexico City as huge as it is. That said, I'd like to dedicate this post to my "tejas", friends new and old. To those I may never see again and to those I hope of course to get to know better. Hasta la próxima.

Eric Durán

December 2011

June and July 2012

December 2012 to January 2013