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My Mariachis
6 mariachis all playing just for us. Felt like a king. Those guys are awesome! Today was a museum day. In the Thambiratnam book, that equates to a day of drudgery, partly because museums seem to go on for ever and ever and ever, but also because they very rarely have any good food. But, we vowed we weren't going to leave that museum before we figured out the difference between and Aztec, Mayan, Olmec, Toltec, and most importantly how to pronounce Quetzalcoatl.
The National History Museum tricks its visitors by saying there are only 13 rooms. And squashed onto a small map, that looks like an easily tackled visit. Its lies. The place is huge ... but deservingly so. Its very nicely done, with plenty of fake people dressed in period costumes and a varied set of displays (ie. not the typical hundreds of pieces of broken pottery). We spent the first hour wondering through room #1 and #2 alone, before realizing this room had nothing to do with Aztec, Mayan or any kind of civilization that was Indiana Jones or Lara Croft worthy (it was a room devoted to the native indians of Central America). So we shifted into 'express' gear, and whisked through a few other rooms till we finally got to
Remains of a kid
Why would you preserve your kid like this. the huge room for all things archaelogically hollywood worthy.
To be honest, I'm not sure whether the things we saw were all real, some did look suspiciously like the paper mache backdrops you see at movie studios, particularly the really large chunks of pyramids and temple walls. But it all looked great, colors were vivid (great restoration work, or maybe just good forgery). Most macabre was the collection of sacrifical bone remanants. Aztecs and Mayans were a bloodthirsty lot, engaging in lots of sacrifice, with the largest on record being (from memory) something like 20,000 in a day. And there was a lot of kid sacrifice too. Apparently there was some custom of electing a youth as the 'chosen one' for a year, during which they would fatten him up, and then kill him at the end. Not sure who volunteers for such an 'honor', but I guess one good year of luxury may have been appealing back in the day.
Many hours later, we emerged rather foot-sore and over-Mayaned, but felt pleased that we could distinguish our Mayans from our Aztecs, and even a Toltec. As a reward, we decided to treat ourself to a buffet at
Scary
Mayan and Aztec stuff is so macabre. the museum restaurant, which turned out to be decidedly terrible, though they had a few nice desserts. We then headed over to the nearby Chapultepec park. The lonely planet allocates an entire column to espousing the wonders of the castillo (castle) in this park. Not sure what the big deal is, looked okay from outside, but not sufficiently interesting to inspire us to walk up the hill and pay the entry fee.
It was then over to Plaza Garibaldi, pick up point for Mariachis (a gang of musicians that play instruments and sing). Here's how it works. Mariachi gangs hang on the street, strutting their stuff. A car drives up, a window is lowered. A mariachi leans in, and a hushed exchange of price and negotiation is followed finally by a opening of the back door. Marachis jump in, and are whisked away to entertain their guests for the night. Hmm.... why does that remind me of something else...
Unfortunately, seems like we weren't the typical clientelle for a mariachi. Despite our very ouvert passes back and forth (in total 4 times), a few longing glances, and even stopping and simply gawking for a minute or so, there
Quetzalcoatl
The feather serpent God, whom some say is actually a white guy that made it a across the atlantic centuries ago and convinced everybody he was a god. were no propositions. Whisking out a few pesos seemed to be the required flag, and soon I was approached by a polite mariachi dressed in black and silver filigree. I had to negotiate in my broken spanish, hoping for dear life I was being propositioned for music, and not for something else.
Seconds later, we were the center of attention for 6 mariachis, their instruments and their gorgeous tenor voices. Those guys know how to sing - definitely worth every peso (though the 70 pesos we finally negotiated seemed kind of steep, still no regrets). It was a bit awkward just standing around having a private performance, we weren't sure if we were meant to dance, or clap, or sing. So instead, we just bobbed our heads from side-to-side stupidly, smiling and doing the occasional glance-of-awe at each other, trying hard to convey to them that we really were enjoying ourselves (which we were).
It was getting late, so we headed into the historic center for a bit more old building site seeing. We stopped at the National Museum of Arts, not for the artwork, but rather the building, which is definitely photogenic. It was then off to
Mayan Calendar
I'm sure everybody knows this one. According to it, the world ends on Dec 21 2012. the pretty color-tiled Cafe Tacuba, a lonely planet recommendation for some good Mexican food, touristy but nevertheless beautiful setting, and serendepitously, more mariachis. And so our day ended with full bellies and great mariachi music, a perfect antidote for museum-wearied feet.
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