Friday, January 18, 2008

SUNDAY IN ALAMEDA PARK

Hi Gringos,

I am definitely falling in love with Mexico City, again. We have had our differences, but I am more certain that we belong together. This blog is dedicated to an elegant park in the center of the city called Parque Alameda. It is small, seven blocks by three blocks. But it is packed with fountains, statues, food vendors, police on horseback, comedians, clowns, mind readers, music, and people having a great time. The first picture gives you an idea of where this Eden is located, right in the central business district. The building in the background is the Tower Latinoamerica, the building on the right is Sears.







The park has 9 circular plazas with fountains and statues. Benches line all of the paths that run at right angles and diagonals between the plazas. Pictured below is an example of a favorite Parque Alameda pastimes.




And here's an example of one of the park police.




After kissing, the next favorite pastime must be eating. Yes, I do eat the food from the stalls and no I haven't gotten Montezuma's Revenge. The first picture is called a huarache. It's the Mexico word for "sandal." The base is a bluegreen corn tortilla, but thicker. The tortilla is usually filled with beans and chicharones (fired pork skin). Then your local al fresco chef will add any combination of frijoles, nopal (cactus), chilis, cheese, onions, cilantro, lettuce, and tomato. Hold the chilis, hold the lettuce special orders don't upset us. At Huarache King, have it your way.



Here's a quesadilla stands.



And here's a stand selling salty, spicy things. The big, crispy things on the right are fried pork skin. Instead of breaking it into chips, they sell the entire back. Then you sit with a little salt and salsa and eat you some pig. I haven't gotten the nerve to try it yet. I'm not afraid of the taste, I know I like it, but it doesn't look like something a clumsy person should do. But look at the fresly made poatato chips on the left. I almost always get those. Add salt and hot sauce to your taste.



On the weekends there are at least two bands playing all day -- sometimes more. This band was great. A cross between rock 'n' roll and salsa. Lots of energy and great musicians.



I found this kid practicing his air guitar moves watching the band.



This couple was also enjoying the band. I think I did 'shrooms with them at Woodstock. They caught me trying to take their picture surreptitiously. They waved me over for a better shot. They got a really good laugh at my bad Spanish. But when you're that high, everything is funny.



Every circular plaza has an act -- comedian, juggler, etc. But my favorites are the mind readers/spiritualists. Here is one of the better ones. I don't understand a thing, but people seem to give her a lot of pesos for whatever it is she does.

Many of you have been asking for more pictures of me, so here you go. I just can't keep those Mexican men off me.


I'd like to know who is reading the blog. Please leave your name in the comment section. If you have any suggestions for the blog, leave those also. I was thinking about more Mexico City landmark pictures next week -- churches and monuments. Also, just a hint of love is in the air. But I don't want to jinx it be saying anything else right now.


Affectionately yours, gagginmexico. fmarlman@aol.com

Thursday, January 3, 2008

SANTA COMES TO ZIPOLITE

Hello gringos,

I got out of Mexico City for the holidays and went to paradise for Christmas. Paradise was Zipolite beach in the state of Oaxaca. It was warm and wonderful. No need for chimneys, so Santa enters through that hole in the rock.





The bus ride to get there was hell -- I missed my connection in Acapulco and had to spend the night. You think that sounds nice? I hate Acapulco!! It's a big dirty city screwing up a beautiful bay. The following day my 10-hour bus ride was spent next to a guy who sneezed and farted, simultaneously, every fourteen and a half minutes. Old Faithful was a pretty nice guy and let me sit next to the window to watch the jungle pass and contemplate life in between eruptions.

Zipolite turned out to be very rustic, very cheap, and perfect. OK, no air conditioning, the power worked intermittently, and toilets were a crap shoot -- but I'm not kidding about being perfect. There were fresh shrimp the size of chickens, men fought over who would accompany me to the nude beach, the sea (and the men) sensed my mood and would alternate between rough and peaceful, the sun kissed my skin but never burned, irritating Canadians were never able to get tables at my restaurants of choice, elderly Mexican ladies brought me sweet bread on the beach, their sons offered me coconuts filled with rum before massaging my back with suntan lotion, Gabriel Garcia Marquez wrote a novel just for me to read in my hammock, a breeze would lift the low-hanging bougainvillea just over my head as I walked through the streets while Italian men offered me savory snacks and gelato, young Mexican men played guitars and sang under my window the songs they wrote (about me, of course), the moon was always full, and as I made love every night on the beach shooting stars fell from the sky into the eyes of my latest conquest.

There really are a lot of Italians here with restaurants and better pizza than I can find in Mexico City. And there really was this one Italian guy with a crush on me who would give me little snacks or gelato every time I passed by. OK, some of my description might be exaggerated -- the shrimp were only as big as a capon in actuality.
Here's a little section of the main street with the aforementioned low-hanging bougainvillea.


Zipolite has always been sort of counter culture and gay friendly. It was filled with lots of gay men for the holidays. Apparently a lot of us tend to run away during Christmas. Below is picture of one of those nice gay men. I call this picture, "Full moon as the sun sets." Mmmm Zipolite!!.

That reminds me, it's pretty butt-freezin' cold up there ain't it? Come visit and get the chill out of your bones. I can't promise this particular fellow will still be on the beach, but who knows?
Affectionately yours, GagginMexico. fmarlman@aol.com