You Know You Must Be in Mexico City When...

 You know that you must be in Mexico City when, as you leave your apartment building, there is an organ-grinder across the street playing "Las Mañanitas".

Much has changed in Mexico City after thirteen months of pandemic, and yet so much is just the same.  As I walked around my neighborhood, I started taking pictures of things that to me are intrinsically part of the experience of Mexico City.

Everywhere you go there are stands on the sidewalks selling street food.

Other vendors have small carts from which they sell fresh fruit or snacks.

Others are not content with the sidewalks.  At intersections where traffic backs up at red lights, vendors will thread their way among the cars.  Other guys will offer to wash your windows, and jugglers, hoping for a few pesos in tips, will perform for the stopped traffic.

Throughout Mexico you will see balloon vendors in city parks and plazas and walking down the streets.  One almost expects all those balloons to carry the vendor up, up and away!

 

Need your shoes shined?  It's easy to find a shoe-shine guy to do the job.

The red Metrobuses continuously traverse major routes such as Insurgentes Avenue.

And where the Metrobuses do not go there are those noisy, dilapidated, unsafe, red-light running mini-buses known as "peseros".

This is a city where "taquerías" (taco restaurants) ranging from holes-in-the-wall to glitzy establishments far outnumber McDonalds or Burger KIng.

I know that Mexico City has no monopoly on horrendous traffic, but it is the one thing I truly dislike about the city.  Rush hour is all day and well into the night.

The traffic as you see it here on the "Viaducto Miguel Alemán" is actually not so bad.  At least the cars are moving.  Yesterday when I took a taxi to go back to Alejandro's house, the "Viaducto" was at a standstill, and the driver had to take a different route.  A trip of eleven miles took over an hour.

Everywhere in the city you will see the familiar sign of the convenience store chain, Oxxo.  There are at least three within walking distance of my apartment.

Then there are the sounds... some of which you will hear only in Mexico City.  There is the plaintiff steam whistle of the man selling sweet potatoes from his bicycle cart, the whistle of the man who comes around to sharpen your kitchen knives, the man going up and down the streets ringing a bell to let you know the garbage truck is coming, the recording of "tamales oaxaqueños!" played by the tamales vendors, and of course that sing-songy recording played from the trucks of buyers of household junk... "Se compran colchones, tambores, refrigeradores..."