Day: 2 Museo Frida Kahlo, Coyoacan, Plaza Hidalgo.

“Can I take your interview? It is for my final exam in English.”

The girl at the ticket counter asks us pleadingly. We had stumbled upon Mexican circus on our way back from the breathtaking Frida Kahlo Museum and had spent good twenty minutes inquiring about the circus. Two interviews and half an hour later, she offers us two free tickets worth 400 pesos. Bingo! We are going there tonight. She also insisted that we take her number and call her if we need any help. Will post some pictures soon, have to get that damn card reader to work.

“May be you expect to hear laments from me of how much one suffers from living with a man like Diego. But I don’t believe that the banks of a river suffer from letting it run”

The experience Frida Kahlo’s museum is a bit of nostalgia and lots of bewilderment. The flashes from the film kept coming back and it felt like walking on the sets. Her paintings and writings are a testament to how deeply in love she was with Diego Rivera despite their complex relationship. Most of her writings are only about him and for a second it makes one wonder if they really are at Frida’s house.
The student ID came in handy as we just had to pay 20 pesos. So carry one along, if you are still toiling away in the academic corridors.

The next stop was Plaza Hidalgo – a must see cathedral twenty minutes walk from the museum. Great timing since we got to attend the mass. I wanted to go to confession box as well but then thought it would be lost in translation. In retrospect, it wouldnt have been such a bad idea. Guess it's good to confess something that no one understands? Should definitely try that next time.

We had coffee break in between and while we sampled some brownie biscotti, this Mexican student insisted that we take down her number and email address and call her if we need any help. I find this hospitality a bit too forthcoming or may be it is this American paranoia. What do you think? Two people offered their numbers to us in the space of a day. I hope we are not attracting Mexican girls for some reason…

Fell Right At Home

Fell right at home.
All our services are all yours.
Feet go on the floor, not on the table.
Reads the sign at the Hostal Casa Viega, our abode in Mexico city.
It’s a dejavu for a traveler from the Indian subcontinent if you are in Mexico. The warm sun, warmth of its people, the splash of color, lack of traffic signs and its organized chaos is all too familiar.

The Hostel recommended taking a cab for 150 pesos from the airport, which is roughly 11$. I decided to take the metro instead, which is for 2 pesos to check if I can make it on my own by the Metro. Metro is superbly efficient and frequent. Switching two lines landed me in the heart of Pink Zone – as Zona Rosa has come to be known as. One thing that strikes you about the city is that how good their signage is. It is well designed and the graphics and typography is not overt. The metro signage is infused with well-laid grid of symbols and icons to help you navigate better. Mexico has rich artistic history and that really is its most striking feature.

Casa Da Viega is a small five-room house with comfortable, clean rooms and delightful staff. It has a typical lonely planet feel to it. Young backpackers and students throng the place. I met three German students on my first night here. It was good to speak English to some Germans after a whole day of animated conversations.

Having acquired the map, the first stop was the Museo Nacional de Anthrolpolgica, (Anthropology Museum) which is housed in a huge sprawling park with several other museums. The bus costs around 3 pesos from Rosa Cosa to the Museum. It is amusing to see people hailing a bus to a stop like they do back home. There are bus stops, but in a warped way, convenience of the traveler is the priority I guess. The exhibition at the museum covered the Russian imperialists and some Mexican athletes performed in the park. As the sun slowly took a dip, I decided to call it a day as early as 7pm. Forty days of shoot and then the seven-hour flight and the lack of sleep had taken its toll I guess. I kept waking up in the middle of the night, thinking if something was amiss. I guess it has been a common occurrence since our marathon shoot ended. I can now understand what keeps a filmmaker going. It is these highs and lows, this roller coaster of a ride that spurs you on. I can’t believe that I am thinking of our cast and crew several thousand miles away on my supposedly adventurous trip to Mexico.

More later…