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)