Sunday, October 3, 2010 South Mexico City, Lucha libre, Psycho hostel

I was in a random Mexico City neighborhood after a crazy night out and not sleeping. Just your typical Saturday night. The best part is, I was going back to the hostel and people were getting all ready to go to church. I walked into my room and was taking my contacts out and this guy was standing in the doorway asking me questions about myself and my night, etc. Apparently his name´s Hector and he´s from Venezuela, and he seems to be extremely wealthy in his country because he´s studying orthodontics and has been to the US multiple times. I hadn´t even taken out the left contact when all of a sudden he grabs me and sticks his tongue down my throat on the spot. After I fiercely pulled away and the initial shock settled, all I could say was that I had to go. Of course, since he´s in the same fucking room as me, there was nowhere TO GO except into the bathroom. And as if it couldn´t get any more awkward, he kept knocking on the bathroom door wanting to come in! Your typical Saturday night followed by your typical Sunday morning. I had a 10 minute shitty breakfast of 100% glucose foods and saw Hector, so I left and took the Metro to Coyoacan and walked through the leafy neighborhood to the house in which Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo used to live, now a museum with lots of Frida´s paintings, but unfortunately not her most famous ones. Those were probably stolen by the British and housed in the British Museum, like every other artifact of value from antiquity. I took a detour and went to this park with mobs of runners and a really upscale mall, greeted by friendly guards armed with Uzi´s. Yay. The mall was nicer than we have in the US. I went to the Mexicana Airlines office and asked how much a one-way ticket to Cuba would be. Oh wait, Mexicana has cash flow issues so they suspended literally all flights. I´m no CEO, but just an idea; I don´t think that will solve your cash flow issues. I took the Metro to what I thought was a transfer station, but it was acftually an inaccurate map and no line actually existed to tranfer. I was just about to name Mexico City´s as my second favorite in the world (to NYC, simply for the fact that it´s 24 hours); it´s cheap (as in $0.25 per ride), everyone takes it rich and poor old and young crazy and educated, it´s kinda fun (there are always people selling junk like kite-birds, or playing music), it goes everywhere of interest, and I´ve never waited more than 5 minutes for a train (the best part). I stumbled upon this super busy taqueria, which was a little differnt because they had tons of meat options, plus toppings that included beans, cactus, potatoes, guacamole, pico de gallo, cucumbers, onions, and lime. It was probably the best taco stand I´ve ever eaten a. Hence why I ended up ordering literally 8 tacos (while 3 tacos would feed a normal human). I think I´m killing my taste cells slowly but surely being in Mexico; everything is super spicy and I don´t even dare ask for the red sauce or chilies. Worth it; the food thus far has been exquisite, and much different from the fatty Tex Mex burritoes and Chimichangas found in ¨Authentic" fancy Mexican restaurants in the US. I took the Metro all the way to the southernmost part of the city, Xochimilco (clearly a Nahuatl word), and walked to these docks on the canals, a reminder that the site of Mexico City used to be an island in the middle of a volcanic lake. I didn´t really haggle but hired a boat myself and had a guy paddle me through the canals, which seemed like a lot of fun if you had a group of people. There were party boats playing music and serving tequila, family picnics, mariachi bands, and women selling beers and food. The boats were like gondolas. After that, I stumbled upon a market (I love markets), so I ambled through and saw a huge crowd eating these black bean-filled huaraches topped with cheese and guacamole so I had to get one. I´ve given up actively searching out restaurants using Lonely Planet. They always cater to tourists, they´re always overpriced, and are sit down and take WAY too long for my tapeworm-status appetite. They´re never as good as random hole in the wall local places, at least in a place like Mexico, which is all about the local and not about the Subways, McDonalds, Starbucks, and Burger Kings. And fingers crossed, if locals are eating it, hopefully no Montezuma´s Revenge, because little known fact, Mexicans also have to drink bottled water. I hopped on the Metro back to the hostel, took a power nap, and met up with this group of Spaniards to go to a lucha libre pro wrestling match in a nearby arena, which was amazing. It´s like our WWF, but better. The crowd goes crazy, and it was cracking me up because of how fake it is. The opening act was these women fighting one another, which might have been even better than the guys. The guys were really good, flipping all over the place, jumping in and out of the ring into the stands, etc. There were several times where the stunts were so dangerous that I was cringing that they weren´t going to break their necks. They obviously had the good guys vs. the bad guys. And an exclusive was a super flamboyant guy who kept trying to kiss the competitors, and a super Chinese team. There was tons of beer, cheering, and ¨Chinga Tu Madre¨ chants. The only bad part was no photos allowed. After that I came back and wrote my journal, and there is literally no one in this hostel I´ve decided. Kind of sad; I need social interaction. Of course, at that moment, Hector from Venezuela shows up and plops down at my table. I wanted to get out of there and go see the Plaza de los Mariachis, so I told him I was going and got up to leave, and he goes ¨So how do we get there?¨ Oh great. So of course he tags along and comments that I walk really fast and that he´s scared of taking the Metro because there are "ugly" people. I was so pissed since this just stems from ignorance, considering he has never taken ANY Metro before because he thinks it´s dangerous. I didn´t even want you to come, dude, and now you´re complaining?! We got out at the station and he insisted on asking every bypasser where the plaza was. Everyone told us the walk was dangerous, which made him so scared that he shut up, finally. The plaza was funny, basically people brought coolers and set up portable tequila-mezcal bars. Mariachi bands were all over, just kind of hanging out. Most were Norteño style, with ugly half crocodile-skin, half bright polyester baby blue suits, with accordians. It was really cold out and I was tired so I left. Hector kept asking if I would sleep with him in the room. Umm, no, bro. Then he kept pulling me into dark corners in the hostel to try and make out with me and I was pissed and thought I made it quite clear.