At Christmas I received a Mexican chess set, complete with Mayan pieces, purchased in Merida. I used to have a small collection of chess sets, including a rather fancy 3D Star Trek board. None of which ever got played, thanks to the invention of internet chess. But they looked nice. Chess is a great game, one I’ve played for years. It’s also a great way of creating analogies. Only yesterday, during a discussion with a student on the subject of intelligence, I used my own chess abilities to describe how my own system of intelligence works. If I play a new opponent at chess, I will almost certainly lose the first three, four or five games. At least. Because my ability to work things out sucks. But my memory is reasonably good. I’ll learn from my defeats, remember my opponents patterns of play, and start winning games.
I’ve also used chess to explain stereotypes. An Englishman will play a very intense but sporting game of chess. If he wins, he’ll beam from ear to ear and remind others of his victory to his deathbed. If he loses, he’ll shake hands, with not a shred of emotion on his face. And point out who it was, exactly, that won the damned war anyway. Italians will play with much more camaraderie, but every time one of them speaks, they’ll knock a few pieces over. They’ll finish the game, but no one will ever really know if the game was completed properly, according to the rules. Germans will motivate themselves by playing White against Poland, ensuring a quick march across the table and a prompt checkmate. Americans will play an equally quick fire game, with plenty of goading and cursing, but with backslaps and beer at the end regardless of who wins. The French use chessboards as ornamental ashtrays.
But the Mexicans. A Mexican game of chess is very unique. Brand new moves, unrecognisable to any other chess player are invented, but forgotten again before the next game, dashing any chance of consistency. The queen is highly unlikely to be referred to with the dignity her status demands, with various phrases (all including the word ‘madre’) used instead. Neither player will harbour any hopes of winning, but may prematurely claim victory several times anyway. And the game will probably never be finished, as both players wander off to take part in other distractions, leaving the chess board an unplayable mess awash with spilt salsa, tequila and bits of taco. Unless the game were being playing about 600 years ago, in the Yucatan penisula. In which case the game will be taken so seriously that there will be hours of ceremonial ritual beforehand, and the beheading of the victor the moment a king is forced into checkmate. Anyway, I’m waffling again. Another method of trying to comprehend the madness of Mexico. Perhaps another failed analogy. Maybe I never will quite understand…
This is one of the coolest postcards I have found so far. And I think I’ve found a few cool postcards. This one very much fits into the Mexico City of the past theme from a recent blog post. Want it? It can be yours. All you have to do is leave a comment to claim it – first come first served. Then use the Contact page of the blog to write me an email to let me know where you want me to send it. And it’ll soon be on its way. Has it already been claimed? Perhaps there are some other cards yet to be claimed – have a look at the Postcards page.
Every now and then I discover something new and interesting about Mexico City. But more often than not I complain that I’m just revisiting the same old places. This post is a case in point. But I don’t mind. The Dolores Olmedo museum is a green see of tranquility in an otherwise concrete jungle of traffic and smoke. Still, taking yet more photos of the same thing seems a bit pointless, so I created a video. Mostly because I like creating videos! My new camera is arriving soon, and with much faster autofocus, longer zoom and stereo mics, hopefully I can create some slightly higher quality video….
Mexico has been in the news again this week, and once again it’s water related. Not, for once, because the stuff is running out. But because there was too much of it. Heavy rainfall, and crappy drainage systems (pun intended) unable to cope, left parts of Mexico City flooded and caused landslides and flooding elsewhere in the country that caused a number of fatalities. On the plus side, if you can look past the dead bodies for a moment, the rain has helped refill the nearly empty reservoirs that supply the city with water, or so I have read.
There’s another plus side though. This is, technically, dry season. Rainy season doesn’t come till May. And typically at this time of the year, pollution in the city is terrible. The cold temperatures trap dirty air in the Valley of Mexico, and the lack of rain means none of it gets washed away. The torrential downpours over the last week have though cleaned our skies. Really cleaned them. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it’s been raining Clorox, the housewives favourite bleach.
The result? Popocatapetl and Iztaccihuatl, the two giant volcanoes sitting a few hours drive outside of the city have become visible. It’s like looking at an old postcard from the city, of decades ago, when they were regularly visible, cloud cover permitting. In my nearly five years here, I’d only ever once before seen them poke their giant frames through the pollution, that being at Christmas in 2008 when there is less traffic in the city, a little less smoke, and temporarily cleaner skies.
You can see in my video below how much snow there is on the mountains too – it has been a cold, cold winter. I’ve included a photo of Popo from November 2008 so that you can see how little snow there usually is on the peak. I also grabbed a few photos to put up on my Flickr page – click here to see them.
Near Cuernavaca is a small town called Tepoztlan, home of some crazy dancers who don some pretty far out costumes before parading through the streets to the sound of a marching band. I took a video of a gang of them last year in Xochimilco. Anyway, I found a cool postcard featuring these guys. Want it? It can be yours….all you need to do is leave a comment claiming the card and then send me the address you want it posted to using my Contact page. Has it already been claimed? Perhaps there’s another card waiting to be claiming – check out the Postcard page.
In the not so distant future, Mexico City will be renamed Paradise City. And the drugs gangs will have been brought to heel. Security established. A clean environment won for the citizens. Modern and swish buildings will tower over revitalised landmarks. The year is 2033. According to this new sci-fi film about to open in Mexico. I might just go and see it, even if I won’t be able to follow the storyline exactly!
Around Mexico City there are a number of old glass and steel buildings, put up in the 50’s and 60’s. The most famous being the iconic Torre Latinoamericana, a major landmark in the city, which was finished in 1956. The metalwork looks weather beaten and scratched, the glass is stained and dull with age. But it has a presence, as do the other steel and glass buildings. It has a feeling of solidity, having survived several massive earthquakes relatively unscathed. It harks back to an age gone by. To an forthcoming new era of prosperity and stability. It has stood and seen the comings and goings of numerous presidents, Rivera and (nearly!) Kahlo and many other makers and shakers. The building in my photo is, I suspect, much more recent. Or has had a good facelift.
I’ve read a few books, old books, telling of life in Mexico City in that decade. My favourite, despite its literary shortcomings, was a book called Mexican Jumping Bean, by Pepe Romero, probably published in the 50’s or soon after. It painted an enchanting picture of a lively art scene, life, inspired citizens going about their daily business. The 1960’s brought the Olympics and the 70’s and 80’s the World Cup, twice. Golden times indeed.
Of course, the past is always golden. The student massacre of ‘68 is still spoke of in hushed and sorrowful terms, but it was so long ago. The economic crisis brought about by the December Mistake in the mid 90’s hurt, but it’s just so not ‘now’, when there is a current economic crisis to worry about. The fact that the effective dictatorship of the PRI party, lasting 70 years from Revolution till the end of the century, stifled democracy in the country is just so very yesterday. Perhaps it was, as it has been referred to, the ‘perfect dictatorship’.
It seems to me that Mexicans want those golden years back. I don’t blame them. The days gone by are always golden when compared to the troubles of the present, no matter how trifling the problems of the present are. Not that Mexico’s current problems are trifling, but still. Every student, friend and stranger I ask, tells me that the PRI will win the next election, probably with the present governor of the State of Mexico, Peña Nieto, as president. I am reasonably surprised at how much support they are getting. People who voted PAN (centre-right) and PRD (left) at the last election seem to have abandoned those parties en masse. It would mark quite a comeback for PRI after their complete implosion and capitulation in the 2006 presidential election. But enough. I’m waffling.
It seems ages ago since last I had a photo poll going. I guess it was ages – my 365 finished mid October last year. Still, my new photo project started on January 1st of this year, and as I have a months worth of Faces gathered up, it seems a good time to start a new poll. I took a total of twelve photos and have selected the nine best. You can see the photos and poll on my photo blog by clicking here. You can choose three photos to vote for by the by…
Having done the Zapata trail, we headed into Cuernavaca’s Centro Historico. Considering the city’s close proximity to Mexico City, it’s a little surprising that I’d never been there before. Even more surprising, Paola and her father had never been there before. It turns out, we hadn’t missed much. Not that there’s anything wrong with the place, but there isn’t too much special about it either. It’s no Guanajuato or Taxco. It’s not even a Queretaro. We have no plans to return. So if you want this postcard, leave a comment quickly. First come, first served, and an offer never to be repeated for this place! Anyone can claim it. Just leave that comment and send me an address to post it to using the Contact form.
Yesterday turned into something of a magical mystery revolutionary tour. We set off, a little late, for some pyramids. But after lunch, changed the itinerary and chased after the historical bits and pieces of General Emiliano Zapata that lie in the countryside and towns surrounding Cuernavaca. First stop, the remnants of the house he was born in, with it’s ‘closed for refurbishment museum’ and a rather grand mural along one lengthy wall.
Next stop, the hacienda he went to in order to meet with a defector to his side (a defector that never was) which is now also a museum, albeit a ramshackle affair that is quickly falling to pieces. The photographs, newspapers and pictures make it worth the stop though. But beware, if you should ever visit – the place has no lighting. It’s no good arriving after dark. We arrived at dusk, just early enough to see some detail, too late to read any fine print.
Final stop, just around the corner from the hacienda – the monument and plaza marking the spot where, in 1919, enemy forces ambushed and gunned down Zapata. There are a few faded pieces on the wall that must have once been a grand mural, and a statue of Zapata upon his mighty steed as it rears up, above the exact spot of his killing.
We recieved a sort of guided tour by an old chap, very much dressed up for the part, with his Zapata style sombrero, who regaled us with tales of his father and uncle who apparently participated in the war. He told a good story, although simple maths suggest that, whilst possible, his family account in a war that finished more than 90 years ago was perhaps a little embellished. The alcohol induced slur added to my suspicions. But still, he told a good story. And sold Paola a pirate copy of Viva Zapata starring Marlon Brando and Anthony Quinn for a frankly outrageous 50 pesos.
The Mexican Revolution ran from 1910 to 1920. A little longer if you include sporadic outbreaks of violence after that. Hundreds of thousands died. Perhaps a million. Perhaps two million. It’s hard to say, and there is no firm agreement. The bad guys were the ones with guns. No matter which side they were technically on. Revolutionary or governmental, forces would rape and plunder as they travelled. The lasting effects were profound though. The death penalty was abolished. And a new political party, the PRI was born. They would rule until 2000. I have something in mind to write about them soon. Until then, click here for some Zapatista photos I took.
