Mexico City — Expectations vs Reality

The announcement that you are heading to Mexico is often met with curiosity and excitement, but almost always with a tinge of fear and trepidation. Trembling lips quiver the sentiment to “be careful” and “stay safe”. I tried to bat these away with the news that we are traveling to some of the safest places in Mexico — Oaxaca, the Chiapas, and the Yucatan, the tourist hotspots. A sigh of relief follows the words, “Oh good! So, you’re not going to Mexico City then?” “Oh… erm… erm... well… about that…”

We flew into Mexico City and stayed for a few days. We thought we’d rather see it for ourselves than be cowardly and get in and get straight out. I was quite excited after reading up on what to do there.

However, I wasn’t as excited about it as I could be, seeing as a lot of what I’d heard was negative. It usually involved one of the following things, mugging at gunpoint, pick-pocketing, drug cartels, violence, corrupt police, murder, kidnapping, and its younger cousin express kidnapping (where a taxi will at gunpoint drive you to a cash point and make you take out all of your money, then leave you at the side of the road) just to name a few.

We even watched an Anthony Bourdain travel episode about Mexico City and Oaxaca and were disappointed that it only focused on headlines and murders and absolutely nothing else about the City.

But as a popular tourist destination, surely there must be more to the city than that? Not every tourist is some sort of self-sabotaging sadist. Right? Also, my lonely planet guide made the place sound vibrant and wonderful.

This rationale didn’t exactly help my nerves at 4 am being dropped onto a dark, dodgy-looking side street to a locked-up building that was supposed to be our hostel. As my bags hit the pavement, we heard a loud bullet-like bang that made me jump out of my skin. The taxi sped away, and we sprinted to the front door. Even though the logical part of my brain knew it was probably just a car backfiring or something, the other part was making my shaking hand stab at the doorbell. Joe had to pull my hand away and say, “you only need to press it once”.

As always, things look very different in the light of day. After some sleep to quiet the delirium and quell the jet lag, for now, we headed out to explore the city. Step by step, our fears fell away. Instead of what I had expected, which was traipsing around with hunched shoulders, clutching my bag with my eyes darting around for danger, instead I practically skipped down the street in delight.

Here we are in the Mexican sunshine, smiling at families queueing up and chatting away happily at food stalls, waiting for piping hot corn on the cob, rolled in parmesan and smothered in chili. Businessmen are sitting up high on a pedestal, having their shoes shined. Tourists are snapping pictures of the historic center. A beaming woman in a beige uniform, which I first mistook for a police officer, holds up an upturned cap to ask for tips. I later recognized her as one of the many organ grinders in the city. Continually cranking a handle round and round the side of a huge musical instrument, playing classical high pitched pipes. One of the many musical notes of the city.

The city is alive with music.

Music plays at every corner we turn, be it the joyful sound of a mariachi band serenading coffee shop patrons, buskers with guitars, impromptu rap battles in the park, a traditional drum beat with dancers sporting maracas and noisy beads around their ankles, or the club music blaring from storefronts.

Not only music but dance! Bars we step in for a drink in the evening, live music spurs on impromptu salsa dancing all around the restaurant tables.

Everywhere I look, something is happening. Crowds are gathered around performers and small children are frolicking in the fountains. It’s pure joy all around me and if I could describe Mexico City in one word, it would be that, joyful.

One day we joined a crowd to watch some teenagers beatboxing. They were fantastic and I couldn't even understand how they were making those noises as the microphone skipped from their mouths to press against their neck and then to the top of their heads. A skinny yet muscular topless man in dirty red tracksuit bottoms tucked into the long socks stumbled into the inner circle and danced. He was homeless. He called himself Rambo.

Mexican Rambo was a crowd-pleaser, a natural-born performer with perfect comic timing. He responded to each noise thrown at him, whether a robot was brought to life and shut back down to manic dance moves and playful twerking. We clapped and cheered him on, with the boys experimenting with this sudden additional aspect of the performance. After the boys asked for a round of applause for Rambo and it was the loudest of any applause I’d heard so far, we all placed tips in the box. The boys then announced that they would give all the tips to Rambo today because he deserved it. Rambo broke down in tears and, wiping his eyes, made a brief speech of gratitude. It was one of the purest, most beautiful moments I have ever witnessed.

Speaking of beautiful moments, they are all around, everywhere I look is beauty. The colonial architecture is surrounded by cactus and agave plants of all shapes and sizes, botanical artwork in their own right, there are intricate swirls and stone carvings of the Mexico City Cathedral in the historical center, and striking blue and white tiles covering the entire outside of Casa Azul (Blue House), otherwise known as the house of tiles. But my favorite is the grand, elegant dome of Bella de Artes which is topped with burnt orange glass and flanked with statues of a naked woman shrouded in drapes.

I don’t want to say that there are no dangers here. I certainly don’t dispute other people’s terrible experiences and perhaps we were just lucky, but we loved it here.

Sitting at a rooftop cafe, gazing at this beauty and its backdrop and the city skyline and the mountains beyond, I wondered how I was ever once frightened of this magnificent city where all I’ve experienced is life, music, and joy.

Thank you for reading! Hearts and tips are always welcome and your support is very much appreciated.

This story was orginally published on Medium

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