The Beautiful Face of Mary

The traditions that depict the ancient saints according to various events of their life and attributes of their person are beautiful - and it is just as beautiful that there is variety in the different cultures and traditions within the depiction of the same saint.  Even Christ has a very broad variety of depictions in sacred images.

The Virgin Mary is no exception to this.  I have seen icons of our mother's beautiful face in so many styles and traditions - Byzantine, Japanese, Ethiopian, Renaissance and even Inuit, to name just a few.

Yet, in the case of the Virgin Mary, the most saintly of all saints, we have a special gift that we do not have for any other ancient saint; we have an exact image of her face.

From almost 500 years ago, we have this event:

'the peasant Juan Diego saw at the Hill of Tepeyac, near Mexico City, a vision of a girl of fifteen or sixteen years of age, surrounded by light. It was the early morning of December 9, 1531 (celebrated as the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in the Spanish Empire). Speaking to him in Nahuatl, his language, the girl asked that a church be built at that site in her honor; from her words, Juan Diego recognized the girl as the Virgin Mary. Diego told his story to the Spanish Archbishop of Mexico City, Fray Juan de Zumárraga, who instructed him to return to Tepeyac Hill, and ask the "lady" for a miraculous sign to prove her identity. The first sign was the Virgin's healing Juan's uncle. The Virgin told Juan Diego to gather flowers from the top of Tepeyac Hill.

Although December was very late in the growing season for flowers to bloom, Juan Diego found Castilian roses, not native to Mexico, on the normally barren hilltop. The Virgin arranged these in his peasant tilma cloak. When Juan Diego opened his cloak before Bishop Zumárraga on December 12, the flowers fell to the floor, and in their place on the fabric was the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe, miraculously imprinted there.' (from Wikipedia.)

One of the most miraculous parts of this image is that it remains in its original form, on the original cloth.  This is not an artist's rendition, an age-old tradition of depiction, nor someone's attempt to replicate what they saw in a vision; it is an image of the Virgin Mary directly imprinted on a cloth.

Basically, this means we know what her face looked like, at least in her early/mid teens when she bore Christ.  And as we know from Revelations chapter 12, in this apparition she is pregnant with Christ. (The image on the cloth is that described in that chapter.)

Recently I have been looking at this image and reproductions of it closely.  I am amazed by how beautiful her face is.  Yes, the image is aged, but it is not so hard to look past that.

Now, this does not diminish or remove the beauty or importance of the rich traditions of images of the Virgin Mary.  Yet, it is simply amazing that we can say that we have this direct image of her.

North America's Ugliest City

Abandoned homes in Detroit

 Before my wife had been to the northern regions of this continent, and we were living in Mexico City, we were once talking with a group of Mexicans, and one American.  In a common display of self-pity combined with the pride of bragging rights, they were going on and on of the poverty, danger and ugliness of the slums of Mexico City.  We Anglo North Americans simply had no idea, coming from places where everyone has money and everything is well-maintained, the poor are fed, etc., etc.

I objected.  "I know a city that is far worse than any part of Mexico I've been to."  When I named the city, the American (who had grown up near to it) agreed fully.

A chorus of "Oh, that's not possible" and "You probably don't even know the bad parts of Mexico City" followed.  With the witness of my wife (who had shown me the dirtier side of the city) I then proved that I had been to dingy neighborhoods that even these Mexicans had not been to nor would dare enter.

Even my wife had her doubts that the city in question could really be uglier and less safe than the slums of Mexico City.

On Saturday, she travelled to Detroit and upon her return wholeheartedly and emphatically agreed with my judgement.

"I've never been anywhere that felt so eerie," she told me. "Besides being ugly, run down, dirty and vandalized," she pointed out, "it is abandoned and quiet, in scary way."

These are precisely the points I had described to the Mexicans five years ago.  My wife remembered my description, and her doubts that such a place could really exist, especially in the city that had once been the second most prosperous in the United States - a fact which I had made her well aware of.

Michigan Central Station, which looms over the Mexican community

Even the poorest and most dangerous slums of Mexico City, there is life.  Some are sprawling residential neighborhoods where there is not a tree to be seen on grey hillsides covered with half-built, unpainted and unfinished concrete-block houses.  Despite the poverty, the streets are full of people and neighbors are talking to each other, children are playing, and there is, despite everything community and happiness.  "It's a Wonderful World" may even come to mind. Others are  thriving and bustling markets, where you can keep safe so long as you know which corners not to turn, and know to give up your valuables readily, should anyone request them of you.

Detroit, on the other hand, is devoid of life.  The city speaks of a great place now abandoned.  Beautiful classic homes, which would be worth over a million in Toronto, only 4 hours away, are crumbling.  Many have been bulldozed to create empty lots.  Classic high-rises are skeletons with broken windows completely ravaged of all vaguely valuable and possibly removable items. Yet, the eerie part is that you don't feel it is "empty" but more that there is something there, hidden - something that you don't want to find.  The petty theft you may encounter in parts of Mexico City can be a frustrating and keep you on your guard, but the worry of it is nothing compared to the intense anxiety you feel in the abandoned streets of Detroit to "get the hell out of there."

Locals reinforce the feeling by staying off the streets.  The stores and restaurants of the Mexican Village, for example, are full and busy.  They are comfortable and safe places.  Yet, none of these people will walk around to enjoy the sunny day outside seeing the city. (I will write more about the Mexican Village during the week.)

Even though my wife saw the newer, nicer, friendlier Mexican Village that now enjoys a solid cash flow to keep up nice stores and even homes (as opposed to run-down neighborhood of disorganized shops and decaying buildings that I got to know in the 1980s) she pointed out that you still feel that eerie abandonment.

The restaurant which has been a favorite of my family for decades

Yet, despite all this, this eerie and abandoned city is very intriguing. "Some day," asked my wife, "could we go back just to walk around and take pictures?" (Photographers forget about discomfort when taking pictures.)

And I have to admit, I've always wanted to just go walk around or at least just drive around, and look at the collapsing homes and abandoned high-rises from a century ago.  The wonder of how people could abandon and destroy something that was once so beautiful baffles me and intrigues me.  Seeing these homes makes me wonder what they would/could look like now under other circumstances.  (Although, exactly who is inside those homes now or what they are doing, I choose not to think about.)

I've heard there are some historic churches that have been beautifully kept up.  Perhaps visiting those would be a safer approach, and would likewise satisfy my wife's photographic needs.

On Liturgical Beauty and the Mass of the Poor

These days, many people are talking about a more austere style of Mass as opposed to the style richer in the highly developed traditions of the Roman Church.  While I have my opinion on this distinction, I am highly unqualified to speak about the topic.  There is a related distinction which I am equally unqualified to discuss, but in which I have personal experience to share.  This distinction is "Mass for the poor" as the not-poor express it vs. how the poor express it.

First of all, I do believe that if the poor really had their way, Roman Catholic Masses would be very beautiful. However, that is a different subject.  What I can say about my experience in Mexico is that, in that country, when middle-class attempt to have a "Mass for the common people" it looks and feels very different from a "Mass for the common people" which is actually attended by the poorest people.

A Middle-Class Mass

While in Mexico, it is impossible to say one parish is solely middle and upper class, since people of most classes will be mixed in most parishes, there are definite tendencies and there are definitely parishes which the poor, by their own account, say are parishes for the "rich" (which to them, includes the middle class) and are not for them.  Therefore, they avoid going to those parishes. (The poor in Mexico are usually quite accepting of the placement of their class and feel little desire to break class boundaries.  In my experience it is more the middle class which has taken up this battle.)

Ironically, it seems to me, that it is mostly these very parishes - the ones which the poor see as "beyond their class" - that make the greatest effort to have Masses for the people, include "indigenous" elements and decorate their churches in a way that is more distinctly "Mexican" (meaning not traditional) and "personal, warm and friendly" often featuring expressive art in current contemporary styles, as well as a distinctive stylized theme of lettering and symbols.  Sacred images tend to be rare.  The music tends to have a contemporary folky style.  While I can not claim to be doing anything but speculating, it seems to be these parishes that are striving for a more "indigenous Mexican expression of the Faith."

What's most striking to me is that you can see that a good deal of money, time and effort are invested into making this happen.

The Poor Mass
Just so you know, I'm not going to be heaping  praise on the virtues of the poor here; their music tends to be very bad, and on the whole, their parish churches visually reflect the poverty of people.  However, what I will be praising is their authenticity.  Let me describe one parish I attended daily for almost a month.

It's name, perhaps somewhat significantly, is San Francisco de Asis.  It is a typical structure of the poorer neighbourhoods of Mexico City, built of concrete blocks, which are finished inside and out with fairly unappealing colours of paint and imitation stones.  The roof is fiberglass.  Inside the church, simple shelves screwed onto the walls hold statues of saints, which would have been unusually nice, had the paint not been flaking off of them. (I remember St. Francis and St. Charbel, whose shelf was piled high with the ribbons which people use to make requests of him.)  The altar, cloths, tabernacle and other items of high importance all looked like mismatched combinations of rejected items from other parishes.

I remember waking up at my in-laws apartment (around the corner,) getting my 2 young sons dressed, and hurrying out the door as the 8 am bells rang from the church.  There are enough parishes in the surrounding communities, all of which ring their bells every time they have Mass, that it would have been a beautiful moment of sound, had the traffic on the main road, which was backed up and almost at stand-still since about an hour earlier, with it's noisy engines, loud buses and blaring horns, not drowned out any church bell that wasn't within two blocks.

The people arrived on foot.  Since it was a weekday morning, most were elderly ladies clearly belonging to the impoverished neighbourhood surrounding the church.  It was about a third full.  The priest offered a very simple but "clean" mass.  There was no choir.  No organ, no piano, no guitar.  All singing - including the prayers such as the gloria and hymns - was lead by the elderly ladies, especially by a group about five pews back from the front.

I remember their singing.  It was neither traditional nor was it "folky" or "indigenous." In artistic aesthetic terms, it would be hard to call it "beautiful" or "creative" or "expressive."  Their old voices crackled in off key notes.  Were they the same songs that are sung in the nicer parishes?  Perhaps.  They sounded so different I couldn't tell. Yet their voices had something in them that I don't remember hearing in the more carefully crafted "popular" Masses - a sort of passion and adoration.

One day of the week, after Mass, the priest would present a relic of St. Francis.  Almost all present lined up in front of his shrine to kiss the relic.

Something about Mass at this parish touched me.  While there is no doubt that the Mass was greatly lacking in beauty and talent, the people were not striving to "express themselves" or their culture.  They were, quite on the contrary, striving for something more beautiful than what they could attain.

That in itself was very beautiful.

Beauty like this cannot be planned through a liturgy team, finances, art, creativity, self-expression or any sort of intellectual idea of "appeal to the masses."  It is also something that could not be imitated.

I would love it if every day of my life, I were near a Mass in a traditionally decorated church with gold and beautiful paintings, with bells, incense, and awe-inspiring chant rising to its high ceilings.  However, that option lacking, a Mass like the one I just described is probably where I have found the greatest beauty.


I could (and I intend to) write more about this parish, but for today's point, this will be enough.

My 4-year-old Loves Maps

This is a picture that my 4-year-old son drew at home last week:

When he showed to to me he pointed to the top of the green shape covering the middle/lower half of the page and told me: "Look, here's Canada."  Then, pointing to the middle of the same shape, "this is the United States," specifically pointing out that's where his godparents live, and, finally, pointing to the upturned part at the bottom, "and this is Playa del Carmen." The small green circle at the top of the shape is Mexico City - a little out of place, but I can live with that.

It's a map of North America.  He loves maps!

I remember loving maps when I was a kid/teenager.  I still do.  I'm proud that my 4-year-old son can draw a map of North America that actually resembles North America!  (Besides Mexico City, Greenland kind of got shifted to the other side, but, hey, he's 4, and he drew it from memory, without looking at a map.  I think it's amazing!)

Mexico City - Some Scenery from Tacubaya

One of the things I love about Mexico City is the presence of random scenery, sometimes not coinciding with the typical image we have of this city, even for those who know it.  Considering it's the second largest city in the world, and both the most beautiful and ugliest city I've seen (within a kilometer or so of each other), both exciting and boring, monotonous and ever-changing, it's no surprise that there is no "rule" about what kind of interesting scenes you'll find at any given moment.  As a complete side note that I feel like sharing, with a probable population of approx. 400,000 gringos it's the largest community of Americans outside of the USA.

That having been said, the three pictures I'm sharing today are fairly typical to the city, and rather un-random.  But they caught my attention for different reasons.  So here they are:

A former church-turned-museum - the Borough Office for Benito Juarez (near Tacubaya, at Parque Lira)

This is a very common scene in Mexico - an abandoned old church that his been restored far better than many that remain in actual use; the reason is that they have been converted to museums, giving all levels of government, private foundations, artists and the public a vested interest in restoring them.  This particular church was built in 1906, consecrated by a representative of the great Pope St. Pius X.  It was used to serve an adjoining community home - for street kids, I believe - a building which is now a city office.  When the home went out of use some 40 years ago, the church went out of use with it, and was soon turned into a museum.

I found out this information at the demand of my 4-year-old son, who was insistent on knowing why there was no mass being held, and why the church was filled with colourful sculptures of dragons from Mexican folklore instead of saints.  After asking the lady at the desk, and passing the story on to my son, he began to sob loudly.  When he finally calmed down enough to talk, he asked me if we could go find the priest (meaning the one responsible for this church building) and give him money so he could turn it back into a church and have mass there again.

I see this as an "old" church, but in relative terms, it's very new, and served as church building for a brief 60-70 years.  It reminds me of the time when I was visiting a village near my wife's grandpa's farm; when I asked him about the "old church" on the town square, he corrected me and told me that the church wasn't old; he remembered seeing the completion of the church as a child, meaning it was no more than 80 years old - a very recent innovation in the village.

A crucifix with rosaries in a bus

This is actually a fairly mild example of bus decoration; drivers will include anything from crucifixes and saints, to poster girls, and sometimes even both side by side.  I've seen a few buses with statues of Saint Death.  This driver had only the crucifix and rosaries.  Rosaries on the rear-view mirrors of taxis and other cars are pretty commonplace.  I can't speak for this driver, or make generalizations, but I know a number of people who will show many outward signs of Catholic faith like this, but are fairly uninterested in mass and even anti-clerical.  My brother-in-law, for example, will cross himself when he sees a church building or sacred image, or when he hears of that someone has died, and he commonly asks people to pray for him (to God or to the Virgin Mary), but my wife can't remember once that he's attended mass.  He doesn't think much of priests or pastors either - and even less of other churches.  So, he's definitely not atheist, and most certainly couldn't count as Protestant, but does he count as a Catholic?  I think he would say so, and I think, in some sense, I would agree.  But it falls outside of our usual northern paradigm where its not likely that someone who has stopped attending church would continue showing outward signs of religion, with strong dedication.

The Coca-Cola Building (or "Ermita") in Tacubaya

This building is a famous landmark in the heart of Tacubaya. I don't know if there used to be more buildings like this one, but from what I've seen, it's unique in Mexico City - I haven't seen any others of this style.  It was build in 1925 (from what I gathered from a quick google search) and is, as I like to point out to my wife, the "Future of the Past." When they build it, I'm sure they thought it was what the future would look like - a future that, of course, never arrived.  If I understand correctly, the name "Ermita" comes from a previous building on the site, which was a small chapel. ("Ermita" means "Hermitage." - see EDIFICIO ERMITA # 23 ANALOGO or GALERÍA FOTOGRÁFICA | El México de Ayer; both are in Spanish, but they have neat historic pictures of Mexico City even if can't read the descriptions.)

I think the back is a theater, or was a theater, at least.  Right across the road from this building is the only store where I've bought running shoes since I've lived in Mexico; they have great prices on New Balance.  I save my running-shoe shopping for my annual visits to the city.

The Basilica of Guadalupe - A Pilgrimage

The image of the Virgin Mary (not original)

This last Sunday, our family made our first pilgrimage to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City.  The Basilica is the site where the Virgin Mary appeared to St. Juan Diego, a native Mexican, during the Spanish conquest. As far as I know the story, she instructed him to tell the bishop to have a church built in her honour on that site.  The bishop refused to believe him until she re-appeared to him, burning an image on his cloak, and giving him roses to take to the bishop.  Roses did not exist in this part of the world, and the bishop knew this; combined with the image burned on the Saint's cloak, the bishop was convinced and began the construction of the church, which took over 200 years, later given basilica status.  The cloak was kept as a relic, and is on display in the New Basilica. The original Basilica still stands, along with several chapels built throughout the centuries. The new, modern Basilica directly beside the old one, dating from the 70s.

My wife and I had visited when we first met, bet I was visiting as a tourist then, only for the sake of curiosity. This time we came for mass, prayer and veneration.  We also bought a few icons. The following are some pictures.  I don't have pictures of the icons, and they are not with me right now, but I'll post more later on.  The image of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the above is a copy of the original; it is not possible to get close enough to the original to take a picture without flash (which is not permitted inside either Basilica), but it is in tact.

My family in front of the Old Basilica

A family - the father on his knees carrying their baby

This is a fairly common sight at the Basilica.  Some pilgrims will approach the New Basilica (the one where the original image of the Virgin of Guadalupe is now located) on their knees.  Some will start at the entrance to the large plaza (500 meters?), others will approach on their knees kilometers before reaching the Basilica.  Those approaching in this way have a special and urgent request from the Virgin Mary.  In the case of the family in this picture, the request is for their baby, and for this reason the father (on his knees) is carrying the baby. He would carry the baby in this way the entire distance.

Devotees of the Virgin of Guadalupe in the Old Basilica

Lighting a votive candle for the Virgin Mary before Mass

 (You can see my one-year-old poking his head out beside me.)

The new Basilica and the old Basilica

Sanctus Deus, Sanctus Fortis, Sanctus Immortalis, miserere nobis.

 "Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, Have Mercy on Us."  The Trisagion prayer, inscribed above the doors of one of the chapels.

Blessed Pope John Paul II

Blessed Pope John Paul II has a fairly strong devotion in Mexico.

Travel Safely in … Mexico City?

My closest brush with crime in Mexico City was one day when I was coming out of the subway, and I saw a guy who was very well dressed in the trendiest clothes listening to his iPod, wearing sunglasses that were probably worth more than the suit I was wearing and the laptop I was carrying put together.  Within about 5 seconds someone had approached him from the front, and someone else from behind, and stripped him of every last item of value he was carrying.

 

I had been carrying a briefcase and wearing a suit, but I guess these thieves know what they’re doing; although I was dressed for a business-type job, they could tell I really didn’t have items that would be worth anything to them.

 

For a place that has a reputation for being unsafe, I’d say it’s pretty impressive that during 2 years, this was my closest brush was crime – especially considering I lived in some not-so-nice neighbourhoods.

 

While I definitely been lucky, and had some excellent “guides” (my wife, friends, etc.), I think it’s also safe to say that a good way to avoid robbery in Mexico City is not to carry things worth steeling.  Dress in regular clothes and leave the valuables at home.

 

With that rule of thumb in mind, I think that it’s also safe to say that it’s no more dangerous to be in Mexico City than in just about any other large city.  People get nervous simply because of the city’s size; there are definitely places best avoided, and a common sense is needed, I would say this is even more true in cities like Detroit.  According to Wikipedia, Mexico City isn’t as safe as “highly developed western European cities such as Frankfurt or Barcelona but is safer then cities such as Moscow or Washington DC.”

 

Lonely Planet listed Mexico City as one of its “Top 8 places to (safely) visit in Mexico now,” saying:

 

“There really is no more fascinating city in the world than Mexico’s misunderstood capital. With a population of over 21 million (and a crime rate about a third of Washington, DC’s), Mexico City had a serious scrub-up for its bi-centennial, and now some places like mariachi-filled Plaza Garibaldi are considered (like Times Square in New York) safe enough to be a ‘Disney version’ of its former gritty self.”

 

Mexico City has many beautiful places to visit, and my advice to travellers is definitely worth going; travellers need to use common sense (as anywhere else) but can go there with confidence that they will be fairly safe.

"The seats on the bus go bump, bump, bump ...."

A bus in Playa del Carmen near where I live.

A favorite activity that my son and I enjoy on the way to school is imagining all the different possible versions of "The wheels on the bus ..."

If you've only ever been on a bus in Canada or the U.S., you'd have no idea of how much fun this can really be.  Our favourite is "The seats on the  bus go bump, bump, bump."  The most fun is trying to sing, as the seats, the whole bus, and the people on it actually go "bump, bump, bump" so much that you have to hold onto something to stay in your seat, or at least avoid ending up on the floor.

In the small mini-buses (like in the picture) the morning and afternoon school rush often leaves us standing up in the middle; usually when there's an adult with a seat, they'll at least give the three-year-old a place to sit, but when everyone else has a 3,4 or 5 year old, or just no body is that thoughtful, we're left standing, him holding onto my leg, and me holding on the rail at the top, not being able to stand up straight because the bus is just too small.  We still sing our song, though.

When my wife was going to fly for the first time (this was after we were married with our first baby, who is now the three-year-old), she was concerned that he wouldn't handle the flight well.  I reassured her that if the baby survived the buses on Mexico City's old roads (where we lived at the time), the take off and landing would hardly be noticeable.  I was right; our baby didn't cry.

I've been on the old buses running through the mountains in Greece, and they're even more fun.  Mexico's old inter-city bus services used to be like that - both my dad, my wife, and many Mexicans I know experienced those buses - but they're now quickly being modernized, with soft, comfortable seats and movies; the old highways that were almost wide enough to avoid oncoming traffic, and really made the bus bump, are being replaced with wide, smooth, modern highways.

In the mean time, many of the city buses still go bump, bump, bump, enough to be fun, and give people with motion sickness a hard time.  Singing helps.

Tepache - A Fermented Pineapple Drink

Tepache, in Tacubaya (from Wikimedia Commons, user Thelmadatter)

Tepache is a traditional fermented pineapple drink popular in some areas of Mexico. As seen in the picture, it is a reddish colour.  It is still fairly sweet, and only mildly fermented - perhaps similar to that of a milder traditional fermented apple ciders.  (Not the Strongbow's sort, but the actual raw apple juice naturally fermented.)

The place where I have had it most often is in a small group of flauta shops in the Tacubaya neighborhood of Mexico City.

Flautas are tortillas, rolled up with a little meat in the middle, fried until crispy and brittle; they are served with lettuce and sauce on top of them, and, in the case of these shops in Tacubaya, with tepache.

Tacubaya is mostly a working class neighbourhood, and it's the end of one of the major subway lines, thus also serving as a major bus and transportation terminal.  On Sunday afternoons, many young adults from villages to the west of Mexico City (approx. 1 hr away) come to Tacubaya, hang out in what's sort of a village square, and enjoy the dining and shopping of this vibrant neighborhood, all of which is really, really cheap (I got a pair of New Balance running shoes there for $40 - originals!)  The neighborhood is in no way pretty or picturesque, but has a charm that only a place that has been given over entirely to practicality of the city and has been "discovered" only by those who need it's cheapness and complete lack of pretentiousness.  It was one of the original Aztec villages that was in alliance with Mexico City (Tenochtitlan) when the Spaniards arrived at the time of the conquest.

So, needless to say, the flauta shops are also really cheap.  If I remember correctly, the flautas are sold 3 for 50 cents, and the tall glass of Tepache seen in the picture is also about 50 cents.  So, with $2, you'll be doing quite well in this place.  (This is why I was surprised when I moved to Playa del Carmen from Mexico City, and realized that here, even with $10, you're better off staying home.  One of the biggest charms of Mexico City is that you can go out with less than a dollar to your name and have a great time.)

Vats of Tepache in Tacubaya (from Wikimedia Commons, user Thelmadatter)

I found tepache once in Playa del Carmen. The fruit and vegetable store where we normally shop (the same one that had those wonderful tamales being sold in front of it, see xxx), sells fresh fruit juices at about 60 cents a glass.  One day they had tepache as one of the choices. Although this doesn't really count as "fresh fruit juice," I was delighted and had a glass.  I've never found it since.  One of these days I'll ask them for it.

If you're in Mexico City, I highly recommend trying tepache.  It's easier to find, and easier to take down than pulque.  I'm sure there are many other places to try great tepache as well.

To read about pulque, another traditional Mexican drink, read:

My Mexico City Experience - Pulque

A note about the pictures: they are not my pictures, but they are from Wikimedia commons (with a shareable license) and the person who took and posted them noted that they are from Tacubaya; I also recognize the place.

Mexican Coffee in Toronto

Ideal Cafe - Outside

Another post on the theme of coffee.

I first got into the habit of carefully selecting my coffee when I lived in Toronto.  Anyone who knows Toronto will know that Kensington Market, a little neighbourhood that was home to just about every group of immigrants to Toronto, also has the biggest concentration of coffee roasters.  Some of them are nice little cafes with a rustic atmosphere that, in addition to roasting their own coffee, also serve bakery items and some food.  My favourite of these was the Moonbean Cafe, because of it's atmosphere and it's variety of coffees.  I think I've visited everytime I've been back to Canada.

Others were more purely roasters, and had some makeshift seating around the entrance.  My favourite of these was Ideal Coffee.  The makeshift seating wasn't so great (although it's definitely a part of the alternative atmosphere their regulars like,) and one of my friends actually accused them of being snobby; it wouldn't surprise me, but to be perfectly honest, I was always to enthralled by the smell of the roasting coffee to take any notice of the people who worked there. The only things I remember about the place are the stacks of coffee back behind the bar, the espresso maker, which was operated by a hand pump instead of electronic pressure, and that, as good as the lattes were, it was too inconvenient to enjoy them there, since the few seats were usually taken, and they were too uncomfortable anyway.  The people - even the ones filling the seats - don't figure into my memory.

Moonbean Cafe

BUT the coffee was (and still is, I hope) amazing.  At that time, at least it was from Veracruz, Mexico.  I had discovered this coffee before I met the Mexican friends who would eventually prompt my sudden and unplanned move to Mexico (the prompting wasn't very active - mostly my doing on the great things they told and later showed me.)  This coffee, however, was one of my first Mexican experiences which little by little grew on me and fall in love with this wonderful country and all the great things it offers.

Having now lived in Mexico, I realize there was absolutely nothing Mexican about Ideal Cafe except the coffee.

When I first lived in Cuernavaca and began buying my coffee from the roaster in the local market, I realized some important things.  First of all, the coffee in Cuernavaca was just as good, if not superior.  Another is that the coffee in Kensington was sold for about 3 times as much; this makes since it's imported, and it was bought fair-trade organic, although it couldn't be sold as organic, since the shops hadn't been certified.  Also, the people in Kensington - especially Ideal - were hippies, punks or some kind of people who wore shabby clothes, but could afford to pay $10 for a pound of coffee or $3 for a cup. (I endured the price and forced myself to drink less coffee, simply since it was so good, and well worth sacrificing quantity for quality. I almost never bought the coffee to drink there for budget reasons.)  The people in Cuernavaca's market wore just about anything, mostly just plain jeans and a t-shirt, but paid $6 for a kilo of coffee (less than $3 a pound), and less than $1 for a cup.

I was thrilled to find this little coffee roaster.  It was purely practical for practical buyers, and for that reason offered low prices.  They had 5 different roasts and ground the coffee to your specifications.  It was delivered in typical two little transparent plastic bags - to ensure freshness, I was told - as opposed to the elegantly rustic brown paper of the shops in Toronto. (Mexico also has its trendy coffee shops, but not so much in Cuernavaca; places in Mexico City - I believe Condesa and, especially, Coyoacan - have some very nice little shops with amazing coffee, and I believe a number of them roast their own. Obviously a little pricier than Cuernavaca's market, but a nicer atmosphere than Ideal and still better prices. Mexico City also has enough shops that are purely roasters of its own - one of them is where my mother-in-law buys her annual gifts of coffee for us.)

Ideal Cafe Inside

I never begrudged Kensington Market for charging me 3x as much; as I mentioned above, I still go back there when in Canada.  They were my first experience with Mexican coffee, and that alone is something to be grateful for.

Thank you Mexico for wonderful coffee - and thank you Kensington Market for roasting it and selling it to Canadians!

By the way, if you live in Toronto, my recommendations are:  If you want to sit down for a coffee and a snack, go to Moonbean - I'm not sure if Moonbean's coffee is Mexican, but it's good.  If you want to buy grounds to brew at home, go to Ideal.

(As I've said before, Playa del Carmen is still missing a coffee roaster, but the Chiapas coffee I buy in a little shop in the old working-class neighbourhood seems fairly fresh - it also comes in plastic bags.  Then again, everything in Mexico comes in plastic bags, even orange juice.)

If you want to read more about coffee, try these:

Cafe de Olla - One of my Favorites!
Coffee, Wonderful Coffee!

A Gift of Coffee
"How Many Germans Does it Take To ...

Enough writing about coffee I'm going to go make myself one!

Christmas in Mexico – Tequila, Tears, and Lots of Love

Musical Chairs (I'm in the purple sweater)

For this one I'll have to admit, it purely my personal experience, and I don't know if this is how Mexican Christmases usually are.

While living near Mexico City, I joined my wife's aunts, uncles and cousins for Christmas celebrations twice.

The celebrations started late Christmas Eve, and, if I remember correctly, we had attended mass before hand with my mother-in-law. The community where the aunts and uncles lived was about a 10 minute walk away. The community had been built up from cheap lots, in one of those places where residents built up, one storey at a time, little by little. It had been around long enough so the narrow roads were now lined with 2 and three storey homes, many flush to the side walk, and others with wrought-iron gates, almost all reasonably painted. While the community still has the distinct flavour of its working-class residents, and is by no means "nice" or "upscale," at Christmas time, with many homes decorated with lights, nativity scenes in the garages, to be seen between the bars of the gate, and Christmas trees to be seen through the windows, it holds a certain charm.


Upon arriving to the house where the great aunt and uncle lived, who are parents of the family  - an aging couple who partially raised my father-in-law - we were warmly greeted by all the family; my father-in-law's second cousins (who my wife calls aunts and uncles), their wives and children, some of whom were already married with infant children.

Some of the aunts, uncles and cousins chatting before dinner

After greeting everyone, and being made the center of attention for some reason or another (both difficult for me as an introvert - click here to read more) I was offered a variety of liquors.  By the second Christmas I spent with these uncles, I realized that I needed to make and express my choice quickly, otherwise various uncles would simply serve me the liquor of their choice (tequila, rum an whiskey are the ones I remember), meaning that I would have at least 3 shots waiting for me to drink them.  By the second Christmas, I also had baby, and it didn't seem like a good idea to be carrying a baby home for a 5 km walk (in case no taxi could be found) tipsy or drunk.  So, I learned I had to choose one, and sip it slowly, since the minute it was finished, another would be served, almost automatically.  At some point, one of the uncles would inevitably realize that I was going slow on the drinks, and urge me to finish, so I could start another, usually serving that other to push me a little more; this was, however, the only I way could discover to moderate the alcohol I was served.  (Of course, I did want to drink, just not too much.)

The large, long and delicious dinner included turkey, rice, various kinds of salad and gelatin, and something distinct to Mexico City's Christmas called "romeritos" (a thin, leafy vegetable cooked with mole and shrimp).

While dinner was being finished, one of the uncles stood up and gave a little speech.  The speech was mostly recalling good memories and thanking other family members.  The speech started with the usual happy but not very emotional tones that most such speeches start.  After a few minutes though, a memory of something very emotional arose (I didn't understand enough to get exactly what it was about) and the uncle began crying.  Soon other aunts, uncles and cousins were getting up to hug the first uncle, and making their own tearful speeches.

The first Christmas when this happened, I leaned over to my wife, asking if there had been some tragedy in the family.

"Nothing specific," she explained quietly. "This happens every year.  It's normal."

The second time I experienced the tearful speeches, I saw the same pattern, and felt assured in my wife's explanation.  I guess the combination of tequila, good food, having the whole family together again and sharing warm memories is a good recipe for letting your emotions flow.

The Piñata

The crying was over before dinner was cleaned up, and If I remember correctly, soon after dinner, a doll representing baby Jesus was brought out.  The doll placed in a sheet, and rocked while everyone sang songs to baby Jesus.  After the songs, each person in turn kissed the doll and made a wish. The tradition was fine for me, but in all honesty, I never liked the look of the dolls (click here to read more about that.)

At some point there was also a piñata, outside in the street, and a few rounds of musical chairs (see pictures).  I can't remember the exact order, though.

Afterwards, more tequila was served, some people mixing with grapefruit soda (Fresca or Squirt).  Some people began to dance in the small living room.

I can't remember exactly what time we left, but I remember that it was really late (not for the aunts and uncles - they were still ready to go longer), I was really tired and, despite my best intentions, I felt just a little tipsy from the liquor. There were a lot of hugs, thank yous, and invitations extending over the entire next year.  Fortunately, we found a taxi when we arrived at the main road.

While I'm not one for all night parties, I have to say that my Christmases in Mexico City were very memorable, warm and I felt a true welcome from my wife's family.

Vitamin T - The Mexican Special

Torta de Tamal - or Guagaloto - Double Vitamins!

Once, during my first months living in Mexico, in Cuernavaca, I was giving an English class in the Nissan plant there; the topic of the class was health food.  A couple of the students mentioned different kinds of natural juices, vegetables, etc.  Then the third student spoke:

"I follow the vitamin T diet," he said with a humorous little smile; "Tacos, Tortas and Tamales!"

Tacos al Pastor - a Favorite

The whole group chuckled. You can probably imagine that this isn't the healthiest of diets.  If you're not Mexican, you'll probably recognize tacos and tamales, but maybe not tortas.  I'll give a little description of the three, since there are a few interesting variations.  Most are very delicious, but equally unhealthy

Tacos.  Most people know what these are, but in Mexico they tend to put more meat (greasier and tastier) and fewer vegetables, with only  sprinkle of onions and coriander leaves.  Tacos have many tasty variations, including "al Pastor" which has meat from a spit, like Doner Kebabs, but with Mexican spices.  Tacos deserve several posts on their own.  Around Mexico city small ones can be found for as low as 15 cents a piece (you'll need to order about 10), or larger ones with more expensive toppings like shrimp for up to $3 a piece; one of these could be an entire meal.

A Classic Torta - Lots of Meat

Tortas.  This is a kind of sandwich, like a sub, but on a shorter piece of bread.  The toppings also vary more; it can include many of the different meats they put on tacos, scrambled eggs and much more.  These can have more vegetables, or even be vegetarian, including toppings like avocados, tomatoes or lettuce, or they can be piled high with 5 kinds of greasy meat with cheese melted over it.  You choose.  Tortas vary in size, and can cost anywhere from $1 a piece to $5 a piece.

Tamales.  Mexico City has it's favorite type of tamales, the kind wrapped in corn husk.  These all have the same cake-like texture, but can have a large variety of flavors, from sweet with raisins, to chicken or hot peppers with cheese, or a spicy sauce called mole.  You can even find "tortas de tamales" also called "guajalotos" which are tamales stuck inside of role.  Outside of the central region, they make different varieties, often wrapped in banana leaves, almost inevitably with chicken.  These have a smoother texture.  These have many varieties, and this is a broad generalization. The Guatemalan variety which you can find in Toronto is very similar.  People like to have a hot, sweet drink called "atole" with tamales, especially a variety called "champurado" which is chocolate flavored.  In Mexico city a tamale is about 50 cents, and likewise atole.  Here in Playa del Carmen, they're double that.


(I think there might be a bunch of other t-word foods that fall into this diet, but these are definitely among the favorites.)

If your diet avoids either fat or carbs, vitamin T might not do you much good.  My guess is that this kind of diet has a very close connection to the fact that many Mexicans suffer from gastritis - a word that I can't really remember hearing before I moved here.

BUT all three are absolutely delicious!  I also believe that in moderation, they're nothing wrong with eating this stuff, just not every day, every meal, like that student of mine back in Cuernavaca.

Mexican Pizza - Everything Done Right

After the last post about pasta, and my disfavor towards putting it in soup (as Mexicans like to do) I'll balance it with another kind of non-Mexican food that I think Mexicans do particularly well; Pizza.

There are three main kinds of pizza that deserve honourable mention; American fast-food style pizza, the Mexican variations of this, and Italian style pizza.

American Fast-Food Style Pizza.  If you love having good, hot pizza delivered right to your door, you would be happy in Mexico.  Besides the American chains, (Dominos, primarily) which I believe are the same here as there, there are many local pizza chains and independent pizza shops that serve great pizza with a variety of toppings. Even the supermarkets have excellent pizza (prepared on order, and served hot.)  Cost is about $10 for two medium pizzas (I can't remember if that's good or bad compared to Canada.)

As for delivery, like the rotisserie chicken shops, Mexican pizza shops use small scooter-style motorcycles to deliver, which can weave between traffic and get to your house quickly.  Of course, this is dangerous, but it's the way people drive here...

Slices can also be found easily enough, for about $1 - $2/slice.

The Mexican Variations.  Besides the jalepeños which you can also get in Canada, you can get a range of other Mexican toppings on your pizzas, including different kinds of Mexican sausages; I think I've seen "al pastor" which is one of the favorite taco meats, shaved off of a large spit of meat that rotates in front of a fire - like the mid-eastern doner kebabs, but with Mexican seasoning.  There's even one style that's called "a la Mexicana," but I can't remember the toppings.  Mexican flavors work well on pizza.  (Health may be an issue, but generally people who eat pizzas or Mexican food aren't worried about health; so if you like both of these, I suggest trying them combined.)

Italian Pizza.  I'm definitely not an expert on original or Italian pizza, but here I'm taking the word from someone whose taste I trust more than my own.  During the year I lived in Mexico City, one friend introduced a group of us to a bar/restaurant La Condesa - a beautiful, and trendy, neighborhood just a bit southwest of the Historic Downtown.  I can't remember the bar's name, but I think it had lots of black, and the name was somehow connected to being bad or tough or something like that; not the place I would suspect for authentic Italian pizza.  My friend assured us, however, that this pizza was the closest to thing to authentic Italian pizza in Mexico or the U.S.  I believe he's a trained chef, so I took his word for it.

Two things I noticed about the pizza. One, it was different; the crust texture, the style of toppings, the type of cheese, were all noticeably different (unfortunately, I'm not very good a describing food.)  The other is that it was delicious.  If I get a chance, and I can remember the name/exact location, I'll definitely go back.  On top of everything, the large, square slices were only about $2 a piece (25 pesos.)

I could write a lot more about food in Mexico, and I will include a post now and then as time goes on.  I love Mexican food, and food in Mexico!

By the way, my wife, who loves all kinds of pizza, says that her favorite is the pizza my dad makes.  It is delicious!

The Day of the Dead - Different Traditions throughout Mexico

Cemetery in Mixquic on Nov. 2

While I'm hardly an expert, and my experience with the varying traditions of the Day of the Dead is limited, I've heard of a few interesting traditions that I feel are worth sharing.  If you are not Mexican, I'm sure these will be intriguing; if you are Mexican, I'm sure you will know a lot more, but read on anyway, and maybe you can add, expand or correct in the comments section below.

In the first post I wrote on the topic yesterday, I described the traditions in small village at the edge of Cuernavaca, which is just south of Mexico City (click here to read).  I've heard that even within the state of Morelos, the small state surrounding Cuernavaca, that there are variations in traditions.


Mixquic, Mexico City

Just a little north, at the south end of Mexico City, there is a very famous and strong tradition in a community called Mixquic in the borough of Tlahuac, not far from Xochimilco (which is famous for its canals, gardens and the colouful boats which visitors can hire for tours of this area.)  The traditions are very similar to those described in Ocotopec in my post yesterday but involves a larger community.  On November 2, in the afternoon, the church bells ring, and a large portion of the population, as well as visitors, make their way to the cemetery in a large procession, where they light the candles at the graves.  The sight is spectacular, and the experience is inspiring.

Lake Pascuaro, Michoacan

Janitzio on the Day of the Dead

Last night, two neighbors were telling me about a very special procession in the central Mexican state of Michoacan, about 4 hours northwest of Mexico City.  In a large lake near the state capital (Morelia) there is an island called Janitzio, which can be identified by the large statue of Jose Maria Morelos, a hero of Mexico's war of independence.  On November 2, the procession to the cemetery for many locals around the lake involves travelling by boat across the lake to the island, which is also an incredible experience.

Yucatan Peninsula

I know that on the Peninsula is cities like Merida, people also make their altars and have similar traditions.  The Mayan people, who are still a very distinct native group in the area, celebrate their own version of the tradition called Hanal Pixán.  I don't know much about the celebration, but I believe that the authentic celebration can probably only be found in small villages.  One of these days, I'll ask a Mayan priest about it, who owns a variety store at the other end of town.

In Playa del Carmen, where I live now, the traditions are weaker, I guess mostly because the people here have come from all over Mexico, and no longer share neighbors with the same traditions.  On Oct. 29 there was a parade down the main tourist street with children and teens from the local schools dressed in costumes related to the Day of the Dead, which was nice.

Parade in Playa del Carmen

One of the nearby theme parks, Xcaret, does a fairly good job of presenting Mexico's culture, history and traditions to tourists, and has a special presentation for the Day of the Dead, which includes music, altars and a reconstruction of a traditional cemetery with the procession.  There is also food and music, and each year they present specific traditions from a different region - I think this year it's Chiapas.  I've heard the presentation is very good, and if you're ever down here, it would be worth the visit.

However, my personal recommendation is is to participate in one of the community traditions if you can.  Instead of just seeing and taking pictures, you can take part, leave candles for the deceased and accompany the family; it may not be appropriate to take pictures, but sometimes, if you know the people, it might be OK.  In any case, you gain an experience - if a picture is worth a thousand words, an experience is worth a thousand pictures. (I guess photographers might not agree ...)

If you're not Mexican, and you visit during this time, find someone who knows the traditions and knows how you can participate.  Many Mexicans are eager to share their traditions with friends from other countries.

If you want to read yesterday's blog, an introduction to my experience of the Day of the Dead, click here.
Tomorrow, I'll  talk about some of the symbols involved. (Click here to read.)

Where's your adventurous spirit?

While yesterday's idea was a bit of a flop (trying to get a bunch of people to answer a question)  a lot of people did take a look at that post and others, and the one answer I did get (from Todd) was really good.  Thanks Todd.

In that reply, Todd talked about the adventurous spirit that drew people like us to Mexico.  So, today I'm going to talk about the adventurous spirit and living in Mexico.  I'll start by talking about some things Todd mentioned, and connect them to my own experience, starting each point with a quotation from him.

"I have a touch of adventurous spirit in me. That´s what started it all."

• This definitely started it all for me as well. I was all ready to start a degree program for graduate studies, and I decided to head down to Mexico City for a 3 week vacation, as one last adventure before getting more serious about life. That 3 week vacation has turned into 4 years, and many new adventures have stemmed from this one.

"Every day it seems like there is some new challenge to face."

•  I met my first challenge when I met my wife (my main motivation for staying past the 3 weeks;) I didn't know Spanish and she didn't know English.  Since then, I think I have come across many new challenges, even when there's no adventure.  While it's definitely a challenge to be in a different country, there's something about Mexico that constantly presents life with new challenges.  My wife always says Mexico is the country where "everything happens and nothing happens."  Everything seems to be going wrong, and be far to complicated, and then suddenly you realize that life goes on, and it none of meant as much as you thought.  At that point you're ready for the next challenge.  This applies to everything from government bureaucracy to trying to help with social problems.  While this way of thinking can be frustrating when you want to see real change, I believe it's what keeps Mexicans sane.

"Moving to another country with such a different culture was a little scary (ok, a lot scary)"

• I'll have to be honest; I wasn't scared.  I don't think I'm a courageous person, I think I just got lost in the excitement and adventure.  I also had the fortune of being with really supportive people, who took me to some places where most people would never dare go, and to other places where most people could only dream of going; all along they told me what to do, what not to do, and made sure I knew how to stay safe.  Even when I was alone, their advice proved very valuable.

I believe that people with an adventurous spirit don't find adventure.  Adventure finds them.  One thing that was similar between my life in Canada and my life in Mexico was that I constantly found unexpected problems, places that were real "hidden gems", interesting people and excellent friends, without ever looking for any of them.  One friend in Canada pointed out that whenever we travelled together, unexpected adventures abounded - both good and bad, but almost always fun.  There is no rule about what kind of things an adventurous spirit will find; each adventurous spirit has a different star guiding it, and will a whole different kind of adventure.

There are Americans, Canadians and Europeans who come to Mexico to live in a gated community, full of other people from the same country, shop only at Walmart (they probably won't even go to Mega - a Mexican store which is very similar and has an even nicer image I would say, with comparable prices), and only go to see sights and participate in events where they are comfortably with others from their own country.  I know some of these people and have nothing against them; many are very pleasant people, and I can enjoy talking to them and spending time with them as much as with anyone.  But they don't have an adventurous spirit.

In fact, they don't really live in Mexico.  They live in a home that happens to be in Mexico, but has little more to do with this country or culture. Adventure is unlikely to find them, even in Mexico, because they don't want it.  That's fine, because they're happy that way; I'd never wish for anyone to have to tie a muffler to a car with a coat hanger on a near abandoned logging road in northern Quebec, or have to walk through the streets of Tepito in Mexico City, if that person couldn't somehow find pleasure in the adventure or telling people about it afterward; half the pleasure of an adventure is being to share the story with others (hence this blog.)

Others arrived in Mexico or other countries because of an adventurous spirit, and started off with adventures, but later lost this spirit (click here to read a blog about this.) Although I've settled down, bought a house and had a kid, adventures of a new sort have been finding me, the kind I don't have to go to the isolated countryside or city slums to find.  I'll write about these some time.

What sets Mexico apart for me is the fact of being in "another fishbowl," as Todd said, is the randomness that permeates this country - or at least what seems to me as randomness - and experiencing it in a very direct and raw way; this randomness creates both annoying bureaucracy and rich cultural variation and brings wonderful people into your life.

Do you have an adventurous spirit? Do adventures find you?  Tell me about them ...

Click here to see Todd's original comment.

New Hostel for Mexico City - Restored Colonial Building Downtown

I'm a big fan of visiting Mexico City – I lived there for a year, and now that I'm away, I can't wait to go back to visit again. It has so many places to see, things to do, experiences to have – more than even a lifetime resident could even come close to discovering, I've been told.


I found a news article (in Spanish) about plans for a new international travellers hostel downtown. In addition to providing a new place for backpackers to stay while enjoying an incredible city, the article also states that "such investments contribute to recover one of the main public spaces of the capital," i.e. the original colonial city center.

The new hostel is located in the heart of this colonial city center, in a restored colonial building. It is located on the corner of the streets called "5 de Febrero" and "Regina." My wife, a native of Mexico City, says that Regina Street is an interesting street to see, because of the classic colonial building and is perfectly safe to take a nice walk down, but she says that many of the old buildings on the street have not been taken are leaning, have sagging roofs, etc. (details not mentioned in the article.)


The location of the hostel was probably purposely chosen to start revitalization of the area – a purpose I fully support. Mexico City's revitalization programs have turned the colonial downtown from a sketchy old ghetto with tonnes uncared-for old buildings, into a charming and beautiful colonial heart of a thriving city. Of course, not all parts of the colonial core have seen the benefits of these programs ...


According to the article, the colonial building for the hostel was renovated and redesigned for young Mexicans and foreigners, who will enjoy many high-quality services, such as internet connections (WiFi and PCs.) Prices are accessible. The name is "Hostal Centro Histórico Regina" (Historic Centre Hostel Regina) and it has 121 beds, with high ceilings and large windows and balconies. There are both private rooms or dorm rooms, as well as a café and city tours.


If you read Spanish, here's the original article – but like most Mexican news, 2/3 of the article is lists of names of important people (who probably don't matter to you) and empty political quotations from those same people at the ribbon-cutting ceremony; the other 1/3 is the info I picked out and translated above. But, in any case, here it is:
TV Radio Riviera, Noticias desde la Riviera Maya
Here's a link with some reviews:
http://www.hostelworld.com/hosteldetails.php/Hostel-Centro-Historico-Regina/Mexico-City/45200

My Mexico City Experience - Pulque

My experience from the drink called pulque is a direct result of the fact that I had a rather different introduction to Mexico City.

Tourists to Mexico City will see a number of the "usual" sites - the Zocalo (the main city square), the historic downtown, the pyramids of Teotihuacan, the Bellas Artes art gallery, and the canals at Xochimilco, with guided boat tours are a few examples of the most common, and are all very well worth the visit. However, as one friend of mine pointed out, two people could live their entire life in the city with almost no significant overlap in the places they know, things they see and communities they visit.  Mexico City is the second most populous metropolitan area in the world (after Tokyo) and I'm sure this is true of most of the world's mega cities.  I was fortunate enough to have the experience of being a part of 2 multi-day tours by two such people, whose lives in Mexico City had very little overlap.

Extracting the sap from an agave plant

One part of one of the tours (given by the same friend who made that observation) was my first experience with the drink called pulque. Pulque is an ancient drink made of the agave plant - the large, spiky plant that looks like a giant aloe vera.  It is slightly fermented, but not distilled. Tequila is made from another type of the same plant.  Pulque was made by the Aztecs and other tribes in the area.  Some people say it was a sacred drink.  One tequila-like liquor called mezcal, which has a stronger oak-like flavor, may have been made before the Spanish Conquest.  Tequila, in any case, was a distilled drink developed during colonial times, based on these original drinks.

The drink has a milky colour and varies in texture from as runny as milk to as thick as a milk shake.  It's flavor is rather sour, and can be a little harsh at first.  I was lucky enough to try in it in a place where they mixed it with fruit juices, making it much easier to drink.

The bar itself was an interesting experience.  My friend was quick to point out to me that Mexico City is generally not a good place to try pulque, which is produced at a better quality in the small towns in the surrounding areas.  But this bar was one of the few with good quality.  The bar was located on a small, stone-paved side road in a working class community in the south of city (I believe it was in the borough called Tlalpan), and there were only men inside, (and one cross-dresser who was raising a bit of ruckus between two groups of guests.)  The washroom was a trough at the back, sectioned off by a screen.  While I take pride in the fact that I don't shy away from most experiences, I have to admit that I may not have gone into the place if I hadn't been with this friend of mine.

Serving pulque into a clay cup

Since it was mixed with fruit juice, the pulque tasted good.  The texture took some getting used to since it was the thick kind, but I did fine with about two litres - or at least I thought I did.  What I didn't fully realize, despite my friend's warnings, was that the effects of pulque are delayed.  Two hours later my stomach was rumbling, and it felt like it was turning loops inside of me.  At this point we were back home, and I slept soundly for the next few hours!

The next time I had pulque was at my wedding.  My wife, who is Mexican, and was my other tour guide on my initial visit to Mexico City, has uncles who live in the surrounding towns and make their own pulque.  This time it was thinner with a milder flavor, but no fruit juice to go with it.  I definitely drank some, but less than two litres!

So, if you get a chance to visit a smaller community in the center in Mexico (or you have the fortune and the courage to visit a bar like I did - make sure you go with a friend who knows the place and knows its culture) I suggest trying pulque.  Don't expect to like it - at least not on the first cup full.  But finish it if you can, and I'm sure by then you'll be ready for the second cup.

To read about another traditional fermented Mexican drink, read:

Tepache - A Fermented Pineapple Drink