Frida Kahlo, Leon Trostsky, and life in Coyacan

The last Wed of every month is museum night in Mexico City.  Most museums are free at that time and are open from 6 to 10pm.  June 25 I departed as early as I could from Bosque de Aragon (where I was staying with a familly).  I had a nice conversation with 2 women on the combi about life in Mexico City, how hard it is, how little people are paid (minimum wage is 2.50 US/day – that’s lower than Haiti, which I thought had the lowest mininum wage in the world).  I’m surprised there aren’t more robberies and assaults given the utter poverty here.  I think it’s a testament to the goodness of the Mexican people, their integrity and intrinsic sense of what is right.  I have tremendous admiration for the people here.  It is amazing to me what people can withstand, 4 hours or more hours per day in commute (for example, standing in a crowded metro subway, running to transfer and having to push to get on and off, and positioning oneself strategically near the door as one’s stop approaches).  After only 2 or 3 weeks of this, I’m exhausted and feeling like a rung out dish rag.  I can’t imagine years of living like this.  

In any case, after 2 hours or so of combi/metro/transfers, I arrive at Viveros, a metro station near Coyacan, the part of Mexico City (prior a separate town) where Frida Kahlo’s father made his home. It’s a beautiful area.  First I walked through Viveros, a park about 5 to 10 acres dense with trees.  (more to come)


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