South Padre Island

                          

February 13,, 2020
South Padre Island, Texas

Before we cross the pond this evening for a very different phase of our 2020 winter travels, I must post one more piece about Texas.  After Bruce and I finished up at the Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen last Friday, we took advantage of the fact that we had a rental car - not our usual frugal style of travel - and took off for South Padre Island for a couple of nights.  We would have to relinquish the car on Sunday evening.  

SPI, as it's known in those parts, is only about 80 miles away from our rental in McAllen and 20 miles from Matamoros, where the asylum seekers are huddled in an encampment.   What a world apart!  As a long, skinny barrier island on the very southern Gulf coast of Texas, it's a beach resort, kind of a cross between South Beach in Miami and Old Orchard Beach in Maine.  Lots of tall & short condos, none with the art deco charm of South Beach.  Lots of stores selling beach towels and straw hats, all looking more upscale than our little OOB.  The beach is lovely, long, and clean, and in that way it's similar to Old Orchard.  

                         fishing poles along the shore

                        Being a beach, there are sand castles!

      and shore birds, both the feathered kind...

                                ...   and the human kind!

       The beach and condos on a mystical, foggy morning.

Besides the beach, SPI is known for its birds, due to its place on the migration route.  Thousands of birds stop there to rest and to eat from the banquet of food available to them in the surrounding marshland.  We took a fascinating tour at the SPI Birding and Wildlife Center.  Among the abundance of birds that we spotted, with the help of our guide, were a trio of roseate spoonbills, as well as brown pelicans.  So exotic.  

Our knowledgeable, Canadian guide at the SPI Birding Center.

 Birds lifting off from the huge Laguna Madre (Mother Lagoon) on the inland side of the island.

                              Egret 

                 One of three types of herons in the area. 

Laguna and Big Padre

In the sanctuary area at the Wildlife Center, we also got to see Big Padre and Laguna, two huge alligators that live there.  They had been buried in mud for days but on this sunny day were out getting their batteries recharged.  We were told that Big Padre, on the right, is 50 years old, which means that he must have hatched the year that Bruce & I got married!  He also weighs 800 pounds!  Because he's in captivity with no predators, he may live to be 100.  He and Laguna are there because they became "nuisance" animals, ie they lost their natural fear of people.  This happens after being fed by people (duh!) or finding food near humans.  They aren't necessarily looking to eat us but ... who's going to take a chance?  In an adjoining area, there were scores of smaller alligators, all nuisance animals, picked up after becoming too chummy with homo sapiens.  

Each time that we walked the beach, the wind was blowing a gale.  A red flag at all the entrances warned against trying to swim (too cold, in any case, for us).   The wind, the sea, the wide open space, the innocence of the natural world were just the tonics that we needed after the sad situations that we had been immersed in for the previous two weeks.  

Now we're back in Boston, waiting momentarily to board a flight for London.  We'll spend the rest of the winter roaming around Europe, waiting for snow to disappear from Burnham Road.  

More blog posts to follow as we go from London to Madrid to Andulacia, then France & Germany.  

Hello, How Are You? or Reflections from Week #2 Along the Border

February 10, 2020
"Hello, How Are You?" or 
Reflections from Week #2 Along the Border

As anticipated, our second week at the Humanitarian Respite Center in McAllen, Texas, held its own revelations.  Each day various aspects of this immigration story became a little more clear.  It was like peeling back layers of an onion, like discovery learning.  Some of what I learned came from the internet, as I read more and more, which led me to ask more questions and connect more dots.  Some came from other volunteers who are more knowledgeable than we are.  Some I experienced myself.  In the end, we are left with a very incomplete picture - but we know more than we did.  

In last week's post, I wondered how the asylum seekers in the Matamoros encampment manage to survive with no obvious income or chance to work.  I learned that it's not just Catholic Charities that offers support.  In addition,  the following organizations - and no doubt others - are helping:

• Team Brownsville, a small group of retired teachers, has been bringing hot food every day for 18 months.  They began when there were only 50-100 people in the encampment and have continued as the numbers have dramatically increased.  You gotta love teachers :)!  

• Global Response Management, an international volunteer group that offers medical care to people in crisis situations.  They have a clinic at the encampment.  I visited it briefly and spoke with a nurse from Illinois who is helping for a week.  Here's a sweet NY Times story featuring one of their young docs, himself an asylum seeker from Cuba. 

       https://www.nytimes.com/2019/12/22/us/migrant-cuban-  doctor-mexico.html

• Child Fund, formerly known as Christian Children's Fund.  Another international agency.  This one offers education and child protective services to help reduce the trauma of upheaval.  We rode in their van with four of their passionate, committed young professionals who work all over the globe in camps such as those in Syria and Kenya, where refugees can spend their whole lives as displaced persons.  In Matamoros, they hope to collaborate with other agencies to set up opportunities for play and education for the children in this camp. 

• Unicef and Doctors Without Borders also have a presence in the Matamoros encampment.  We wondered if there was competition among NGO's and overlapping of services.  We were told that the United Nations has the responsibility for coordination of agencies in situations like this.  

                       Doctors Without Borders van

• World Central Kitchen.  Jose Andres, the famous chef whom we first heard of when he brought good food to the victims of Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico, has set up food trucks in the Matamoros encampment and is encouraging other chefs to assist him.    

• Family.  Some people have relatives in the US who are able to send money to help with their support.  We had previously heard that remittances are one of the major sources of revenue for several Latin American nations.  

                     School outdoors, held sporadically.  

This encampment is small, as refugee camps go.  It has come to life just since President Trump enacted his policy of Migrant Protection Protocols (MPP), requiring Latin American natives to wait outside the US until their interview for asylum is heard.  Interviews are held very sparingly these days. The policy has certainly nearly stopped the flow of migrants into our country.  At the same time, it has created a situation of miserable limbo and desperation for thousands of people, their lives on hold in a dangerous situation.  

                              Rows of portable toilets

                       Washing clothes at outdoor sinks.

On one of our trips to Matamoros this week we met David.  He was supposed to have waited behind the tables but, like several other kids, he had ventured behind the lines to see what we had in our wagons that day.  We smiled at him.  He broke into a return smile and courageously said, "Hello, how are you?" in halting but proud English.  Of course, we responded and began a little conversation from a beginner English class.  David was 9 years old, from El Salvador.  With excited confidence, he shared that he planned to go to Los Angeles to join his dad.  We pray that he is allowed to. 

Another sober little child approached us to ask if we had socks.  The day before had been bitterly cold.  Sadly, despite the hundreds of bags of used clothing available at the Respite Center, we are not allowed by the Mexican government to bring them across the border to the encampment.  Something about the NAFTA Agreement, I was told.  

What we found in Matamoros is not a pretty picture.  In the end, we have to believe that compassion and generosity, as well as hope and resilience on the part of the asylum seekers themselves, will bring us all to a better place.  That, and our votes next fall.  

Our time at the Respite Center has concluded - for this year.  Already Bruce and I are thinking about a return visit next winter, possibly for a longer time.  Not a whole winter, as it's tiring work and we probably couldn't keep up the pace for more than a month - and there are so many other places to visit!  We're not up to our 92 year old friend who works six half-days a week for three months!  He's our hero.  He has told me more than once that he never thought he'd live to such a ripe old age.  He attributes his longevity to four pillars of his life - learning, working, moving (physical exercise), giving.  This bit of wisdom had been shared with him as a younger man, and he has tried to live by it.  

In the meantime, Deb Smith has sent me a link to a Rick Steeves video entitled Hunger and Hope.  It is an impressive, comprehensive look at the major issues creating extreme poverty around the world - and reasons for hope as people find simple but effective ways to improve their lives.  The film focuses on Guatemala and Ethiopia, but the lessons are more universal.  I learned a lot and appreciated the hopefulness.  This is the kind of support that the United States needs to be offering struggling nations in our effort to deal with migration.    Highly recommended!  

https://www.ricksteves.com/watch-read-listen/video/tv-show/hunger-and-hope

Sad Realities Along the Border

February 4, 2020
Sad Realities Along the Border

Finally, we are here in McAllen, the real reason for our trip to Texas this winter.   Our idea of coming to the border, instead of traveling to our beloved Guatemala, had been brewing for a while.  The separation of children from their parents, used by the federal government as a deterrent to immigration was just plain wrong, and it got us motivated to come to Texas.   As a national policy, it should have been considered criminal behavior and as such, taken up by the UN and an international criminal court, IMHO.  The rage, the shame as an American citizen, the determination to do SOMETHING to push back, even a small something, became a pretty strong impetus.  Bruce and I have worked for the welfare of children all of our lives, in one way or another.  This spoke to us in an unusually direct way.  

Despite our obviously strong feelings, we weren't seeking an activist role.  We just wanted to offer solace to people who have endured trauma in their country of origin, as well as on their journey north, and are looking for a safe haven here in the USA.  We also wanted to see firsthand, to witness, what is taking place on the border, where asylum seekers are now required to wait on the Mexican side until they have had an interview with US authorities.  We suspected that this exposed them to kidnapping, extortion, and the ever-looming threat of widespread illness.  

A Google search brought us to the Humanitarian Respite Center, founded by Sister Norma Pimentel, director of Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley.  Its mission is to meet the basic needs of families in crisis by offering food, showers, clothing, shelter, and guidance on their forward journey.  Having worked for Catholic Charities earlier in my life, and having watched interviews of Sister Pimentel sharing the story of her work, I felt confident in putting our trust in this agency.  We weren't sure what we would be doing - or, honestly, if there would even be much of anything to do, since it was clear that the numbers of immigrants passing through McAllen these days is pretty limited.  However, we had been told that the agency tries to send volunteers across the border each day to take supplies to the Latinos waiting in an encampment.  We committed to volunteering for two weeks, beginning on January 27.   With the time drawing near, we looked forward to this new service-learning opportunity.  

Here's a link to Sister Pimentel receiving an award for her work.
https://www.pbs.org/video/sister-norma-pimentel-1pt23q/

As we finish our first week of work at the center, we couldn't be more pleased with our choices.  The staff at the HRC are lovely people, welcoming, easy to work with, and kind.  As volunteers, we are allowed to set our own schedules and are encouraged to take rest breaks whenever we need.  Of course, being high-achieving seniors, eager to convince ourselves of our vitality, we have to be pretty knackered before taking a rest.  

         The Center maintains a purposely low-key presence.

In addition, we are enjoying the variety of people who also have chosen to spend a period of time volunteering here.  As you would expect, they are kindred spirits - and hail from far and wide.  Two couples are from western Massachusetts.  A group of 4 nuns, impressive women, hail from Ohio/Kentucky.  Small groups from Houston and Austin have come for a few days.  A man who has quickly become our role model is a 92 year old doctor from South Dakota.  His life stories and words of wisdom are the best!  

We were all thrilled when Sister Pimentel, center,  made an unannounced visit this week.  

One of the perks for Bruce and me has been the opportunity to practice our Spanish language skills, since most all of the locals, including the staff, are bi-lingual.  I heard that 9 out of 10 residents of the Rio Grande Valley are of Hispanic descent.  

We have settled into a routine of working from 9 am until about 1 pm, then walking back to our Airbnb for lunch and a nap before returning to serve supper from 5:30 to 7pm.   The HRC, located  in the original downtown of McAllen, is a convenient mile away from our rental.  We're in a nice neighborhood, and it's a pleasant walk through the "historic" residential part of the city.  For the evening stint, we take our rental car, as it's dark when we emerge from the building - and we're tired by then.  

One of the lovely homes and gardens that we pass on our way to the center. 

One day this week we were privileged to have the chance to cross the border from Brownsville, Texas, into Matamoros, Mexico, with a contingent of volunteers who do this regularly.  After having spent days making 100's of ham and cheese sandwiches, packing up scores of diapers and baby wipes, oodles of baggies of dry milk and rice & beans, it was very fulfilling to see where the supplies are going.  The process is pretty straightforward:  the donations for that day are loaded into 2-3 vehicles owned by volunteers.  A collection of collapsible wagons are also taken.  On the American side, the vans are parked, the donations are loaded into the wagons, which are then hand-pulled by the volunteers across the short, busy international bridge.  

Crossing the bridge into Mexico.  Wearing identifying t-shirts helps us to stay together. 

The encampment, just on the other side of the border, stretches out over acres of land.   It could be a Boy Scout jamboree except for the cluster of Hispanic kids and adults that begins to appear from all corners when the troop of aging gringos arrives with food and other essentials.  It is reported that 2000-2500 people are encamped there.  

                          the Matamoros encampment

Tables quickly appeared and were set up under an empty tent.  The supplies were set out while an orderly line of recipients materialized immediately, snaking its way far down the road.  They waited patiently until the word to begin was given by a veteran volunteer.  Then they walked past us, hands held out for whatever we might offer, which was received politely and gratefully.  Cups of thick chocolate milk were consumed eagerly.  Wipes and diapers disappeared in moments.  In fact, the whole operation was completed in 20 minutes.  Those who had been the first to line up were the lucky ones.  Many, many others were left empty-handed.  I don't know how they survive.  This one agency surely cannot feed the numbers that are living there - and shouldn't be expected to.  We saw one man loaded down with sticks that he had foraged in preparation for building a cook fire.  We heard that the migrants are now cooking their own beans and rice.  As we were leaving, I spoke with a woman from Nicaragua who said she had been there for five months, waiting.  Hope must be what sustains them.  

      Getting ready to distribute the things that we had brought.  

Almost as soon as the operation began, it was over.  We took down the tables and began our short return trek with now empty wagons.  Out on the street, I asked a young man if the migrants are safe here from drug lords.  He assured me that they are not, before entering the camp himself.  While we did not linger at all in Matamoros, we ourselves felt safe, surrounded by police and customs officials and knowledgeable volunteers.  

        The Rio Grande does not seem very grand right here.  I took this photo from the international bridge connecting Brownsville and Matamoros.  


Before leaving Brownsville, our driver took us to a place where we could see the border wall up close.  Barbed wire has been added, and we hear that it is being made higher.  Daunting.  

This ministry across the border has become a major part of what the HRC is doing.  While those who are allowed into the US continue to be offered shelter and three meals a day and showers and clothing and support for their onward journey, they are just a trickle compared to the thousands waiting.  Those who do get across are most likely to be Africans.  My understanding is that only the Latinos are required to wait outside the country.  The HRC seeks to find churches, etc. which will sponsor those immigrants who don't have family or friends to receive them.  This can take time.  There have been a few families waiting in the center for the whole week, and longer, that we've been there.  

For more information on the drastic reduction in the number of US refugees now allowed admission, please see the following link:  *https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/overview-us-refugee-law-and-policy

Our week has flown by.   Much of our work is the mundane stuff of daily life.  Bruce helped to unclog a toilet and replace a special incandescent light bulb, among other things, in between peeling garlic cloves and washing pots and pans.  My jobs have included sorting piles of clothing donations and helping to find appropriate clothes for those who are going to such diverse destinations as Miami and Boston.   Once in a while we have the joy of holding a tiny tot or conversing with people poised to begin a new life. 

Although the work of the center does not stop for weekends, we decided to take a break.  Over the weekend, we saw a little bit of the McAllen area and hosted one of the volunteer couples to watch the Super Bowl.  This is now our second and final week.  We are learning a lot, in bits and pieces, about how the immigration process works - or doesn't.  We are seeing an important aspect of our national life and helping in our own very small way. 

I'm sure there'll be more to share as our time here concludes.  Stay tuned.  

Thanks for your interest!  

Remember the Alamo!

Remember the Alamo!                 January 26, 2020

San Antonio, Texas
San Antonio is known for a couple of things - the iconic Alamo and the much newer River Walk.  That was about all we knew about this city before our visit.  What we found was a city very imbued with its Hispanic heritage but also developing some of its abandoned industrial areas into hip destinations which appeal to a young demographic. We looked forward to exploring and booked an Airbnb in a high rise apartment not far from downtown.  

           Our San Antonio Airbnb was high up on the 7th floor 

Our initial foray into the city was not impressive.  Although the apartment itself was fairly upscale, it was located in a crumbling area, littered with empty storefronts, blocked off streets, a few homeless people.  We wondered what we had gotten ourselves into.   However, there was lots of construction going on, and, not far away, shiny new buildings reached toward the sky.  Frequent historical markers explained important aspects of the city's history.  As we approached the famous River Walk, things began to improve.  

If we have been aware of the River Walk for many years, then others have, as well.  It IS touristy.  Luckily for us, this is not high tourist season, though we're not sure why.  It seems like a perfect time and place to escape northern winter weather.  The beauty of the River Walk was startling and unexpected.  One descends from the street level life of cars and traffic lights into a rather magical ambiance down below, where the river winds its way through the city.  It's a world without cars, just meandering sidewalks and occasional bridges, of sparking water reflecting its surroundings, paddling ducks leaving quiet ripples, lush vegetation, twinkling lights, lovely restos and hotels, the murmur of people sitting at outside tables, others strolling along, weighing their dining options.  We were charmed.  

Since we hadn't managed to have our bbq experience in Austin, we indulged ourselves at the County Line on the River Walk.  Not being big meat eaters, we were nevertheless, duly impressed.  Thinly sliced, smoked brisket was tender and delicious!  We can see why Texans love their bbq!  

  

Just a couple of blocks from the River Walk sits the Alamo, an anachronism amidst the bustling city, a bit like Henry Longfellow's home on Congress Street in Portland.  Its history, like so many famous sites, presents new understandings when you actually visit.  We associate it with a battle in which Davy Crockett and other heroes died fighting to free Texas from Mexico.  I was surprised to learn that it had begun in 1724 as a church,  known as the Mission San Antonio de Valera, an enclave for Spanish priests who served both as religious leaders and colonizers/converters of the indigenous peoples.   By the time that the renowned battle took place in 1836, it had been abandoned by the church and was being used as a military post with the name El Alamo.  Sort of a reverse version of beating swords into plowshares, it seems.   

We hear that it will soon undergo extensive restoration and expansion of its grounds to the original footprint.  This most beloved of all Texas symbols, recognized worldwide, was pretty cool to see up close.  

Since it was MLK day, we decided to honor this civil rights hero by attending the movie Just Mercy.  It's based on the work of Bryan Stevenson, a lawyer who has spent years defending prisoners on death row, most of whom are African-American and many of whom are wrongly incarcerated.  Along the way, he developed the Equal Rights Initiative, based in Montgomery, Alabama, and is a candidate for sainthood, IMHO.  The movie follows the book closely.  Both are highly recommended.  

Another day we endured a two hour sales presentation by the folks at Wyndham Resorts - in exchange for some "gifts".  Our last experience of this sort, 45 years ago in Puerto Rico, had been so painful that we had avoided anything like it for all of this time.  I can only say that the giddyness of a tourist mind-set must have enveloped us when we agreed to be pawns in their hands.  Actually, we had thought it over and decided that it was a pretty good deal for us - IF we could get through it.  It turned out to be hard work to resist all the aspects of salesmanship that were foisted upon us, so nicely and convincingly, as they tried to sell what is, essentially, the same type of time-share as had been hawked all those years ago.  Granted, it was dressed up but still, the same.   We did come out of it with tickets for a boat tour on the river, among other things - and felt that we had earned every single gift!   

        Such a pleasant diversion after our pitched sales pitch.

One of our best experiences, on the only day featuring blue blue sky, was a bike ride along the river.  Those of you who know me well are aware that I love biking!  On this gorgeous day, Bruce and I rented bicycles and took off to explore the other four missions in San Antonio, known as Mission Reach.  Yes, there are a total of 5 missions, including the Alamo, in a string which stretches out all along the river!  Who knew?  (To be honest, my friend, Jeannette, knew and she had told me about them.)  They are actually a World Heritage Site, the largest collection of Spanish colonial architecture in the world!   Only about three miles separate each mission, easy to do on bikes.  What with our usual late morning start and then some technical difficulties with the online rental of the bikes, we made it to two of the missions.  Both Mission Concepcion and Mission San Jose were beautiful pieces of architecture.  I love the colors, muted by age, and the use of arches in row after row.  

                              Mission Concepcion

                                        Mission San Jose

We learned about life enclosed by the mission walls which offered protection to the peaceful Coahuiltecan Indian tribes from the more aggressive Comanche and Apache tribes.  Of course, protection came at a price:  acculturation, loss of their language and lifestyle, conversion to Christianity - you know the story.  

        Small apartments for Indian families along the interior wall.  

On the trail connecting the missions, we were protected, too - from the danger of cars and trucks.  The urban city fell away; schools and playgrounds appeared, as well as housing complexes.  It was peaceful and restorative, hearing and seeing the water birds in the river,  enjoying others who were taking advantage of this special trail to walk and bike and run, getting some exercise ourselves after days of lounging and eating too much.   We appreciated the vision of the city officials and their commitment to invest in something of this magnitude, which contributes to the health of the city dwellers as well as visitors.   Just as the sun was setting at exactly 6 pm, we turned in our bikes and found a place to sit outside and sip a smooth milk stout in the Blue Star Arts Complex on the south side of the city.   

            I soon ditched the sweater and wished I'd had shorts.  

Another of our "perks" from our endurance test with Wyndham Resorts were hop on-hop off bus tickets.  On the day that it really rained, we used them to take us to the Pearl District, on the north end of the city.  This area had been recommended by an enthusiastic young wait person on the River Walk.  It is a cool concept in which the defunct historic Pearl Brewery, encompassing many beautiful old brick buildings, has been turned into a trendy destination.  There are shops and restos, a branch of the Culinary Institute of America, a hotel, apartments - all housed in repurposed buildings and all catering to a presumably affluent young clientele.  Very fun.  Here's a link to a piece by a British writer about the Pearl:  
https://www.independent.co.uk/travel/americas/san-antonio-pearl-district-things-to-do-brewery-texas-a8393046.html

Those were the highlights of our five days in San Antonio.   It's clearly a city going through an "upgrade", respecting and holding onto its impressive roots which straddle two nations - while forging ahead with creative development on both its north and south sides of town.   We liked it a lot.  

There's more to see there but alas, it was time to continue our travels.  We hopped a Greyhound bus for an all-day ride to McAllen, close to the Mexican border, where we'll be volunteering with Catholic Charities of the Rio Grande Valley at their Humanitarian Respite Center.  

South of the Border!

South of the Border                 April 7, 2019

Mexico City
At the end of our winter adventure, we spent four days in Mexico City, in a lovely, trendy neighborhood called the Condesa Colonia.  Being that we were unsure of ourselves here, what with tales of violence and kidnappings and drug cartels in Mexico City, Bruce sprang for a chic apartment/hotel, Casa Mannach.  We hoped that a nice area would insulate us from bad things.  If you saw the film, Roma, which won several Oscars this year, you'll have an idea of the type of area that we were in - only a little leafier and nicer - and 40 years later!

Having arrived late on Friday evening when it was dark and we were tired and confused, we didn't venture out for food that night, making do with our little bag of peanuts.  When we did go out for breakfast on Saturday morning, we knew we were in an upscale area by the plethora of stores selling pet supplies and detox smoothies, not to mention the large nearby Starbucks, and the bright orange, sweet little library on the edge of a beautiful park.  Further evidence were the slim young folks, dressed in leggings and carrying gym bags, who hurried along the sidewalks. 

The public library where the director welcomed us warmly, saying that this was our library!  

We found a charming cafe with tables lined up along the sidewalk, full of families and couples with their dogs on leashes, relaxing on the weekend.  Scott Joplin tunes wafted our way from the guitar player sitting on a stool on the corner.  The weather was delightful, like a summer morning in Maine.  Lovely lavender jacaranda trees, tall overhead and in full bloom, offered shade and filtered the light.  Hot pink bougainvillea draped themselves from the roof line of nearby art deco houses.   No sign of drug cartels anywhere! 

                    Our breakfast spot in La Condesa Colonia.  

With only 4 days in the city, we had to prioritize what we wanted to see.  For Bruce, the Anthropological Museum was tops on his list.  For me, the famous Diego Rivera murals were must-see items (it doesn't get much better than art and politics together). 

We enjoy walking to our destinations, if possible, and often find that the journey offers unexpected delights and insights.  That day's adventure was no different.  After breakfast, we struck out on foot for the Anthropological Museum, a distance of a couple of miles.  Along the way, we passed a large intersection with towering, modern, glass skyscrapers - built with LEED certification!   So encouraging to see this awareness of sustainable practices!  

      Pretty reflection pool as part of an LEED-certified building.

Further along, we encountered a festival of indigenous people, drumming and dancing and performing the voladores ritual, four men spinning their way to the ground, upside down, from a high tower.  We had seen this when our cruise ship stopped in Puerto Vallarta in January and were intrigued.  It must be a scary activity, but they make it look easy.  

  Voladores, indigenous Mexican ritual from the Veracruz area. 

On the plaza in front of the museum, we were approached by young adults wearing shirts with the insignia, UNHCR (United Nations High Commission on Refugees).  We had a good chat with them about our mutual concern for the plight of refugees and asked what was happening in Mexico with migrants coming from the south.  As might be expected, the policies of the presidents of both nations, ours and theirs, have been disappointing in this regard.  During our time in the city, we met two men who had been expelled from the USA.  One was the maintenance man in our building. He is relieved to have landed this job, which has kept him from trying to return to the USA.   Another was an Uber driver who had worked as a busboy in Chicago.  How many others have not found work?

The Anthropological Museum is an impressive complex of buildings, filled with information and artifacts about the various indigenous groups that lived in the area now known as Mexico, before the conquest by the Spaniards, and up to the present day.  There were the Mayans and the Aztecs, of course, plus many others, such as the Olmecs, spread out over the areas as far flung as Oaxaca in the southwest and Veracruz in the east.   The museum complex surrounds an open plaza featuring a suspended fountain, raining down cooling water.  Such a soothing sound and misty sensation!

                    The Anthropology Museum water feature 

We were reminded of the high degree of sophistication of these early civilizations, with their writing and mathematical and cosmology knowledge, not to mention their artistic styles.  What we learned over our brief time in Mexico is that the relationship with the first peoples of this nation are as complicated as those in Guatemala and the US, and probably Canada,too, for that matter.  It seems that, despite public interest in their cultures and appreciation for the ancient wisdom, the indigenous are still treated poorly in all of these nations.  The next day, in the big public plaza at the center of the city, the Zocalo, we saw a demonstration by a Mayan group trying to get the attention of the current government to improve the human rights of their people. 

Silly as it seems now, one of the highlights for us was totally unexpected!  In the museum cafe, we ordered what we thought was a simple green salad, though we weren't able to translate every ingredient listed on the menu.  When the salad arrived, what should be staring up at us but a huge handful of fried crickets!  Bruce pushed aside his texture issues and plowed right into these "chapulines", discovering that they are actually pretty good - crispy, salty and a bit spicy!  

                         Crunchy crickets, called chapulines

The next day we took an Uber to the Zocalo, the massive public plaza in the center of the old part of Mexico City.  This is the site of the Palacio Nacional, housing the President's office, as well as the Diego Rivera murals.  As we discovered, it's also the site of political demonstrations.  The murals in the Palacio Nacional were fascinating, as expected, full of detail illustrating the history of Mexico.   Most of them included English translations of the descriptions, allowing us to more fully understand them.

   Detail from a Diego Rivera mural in the Palacio Nacional

Back on the Zocalo, we passed a makeshift tent, handwritten posters and a few demonstrators.  Being curious and wanting to learn more, I took photos and got into a bit of trouble.  From what I could understand from the man who objected and from what I learned when I googled later, this was a group trying to get the attention of President Lopez Obregon in order to press for more services for poor indigenous people.

The Zocalo, the site of demonstrations seeking indigenous rights. 

After a quiet and delicious lunch in a Lebanese restaurant, we headed out for The Museum of Culture, which offers temporary exhibits on a wide variety of topics.   "Visions of Death Around the World" was very interesting.  Most colorful and vibrant, festive even, was Mexico's own Dia de Muertos with a display of happy looking skeletons and food and drink for deceased loved ones.

Our last two days were spent just exploring the Condesa and Roma neighborhoods and the botanical garden not far away.  The area is filled with lovely parks and fountains.  In Parque Luis Cabrera, the international organization, Doctors Without Borders (Medicos Sin Fronteras), has sponsored a series of large photographs and stories of women struggling in war-torn countries.  One of the posters pictured Mexican female doctors who are members of this team, serving in a variety of nations around the world, such as Afghanistan, Iraq, Honduras, and Nigeria.  

Dog walkers were a frequent sight, many handling as many as a dozen dogs.   These two walkers are helping their dogs get a drink - or a bath - in a fountain.

   Lupine-like plants were in bloom, sending white spikes high into the air. 

Just as we were about to leave the park, a small group of smiling young university students, all women as it turned out, asked if they could pose some questions about our coffee consumption.  A couple of the brave ones asked the questions (in Spanish) while the others looked on.  It was a class in statistics, and we sent them off with all they needed to know about the Webbs' coffee drinking habits.

While wandering around our lovely art deco area, we became aware of a number of buildings that had been damaged as a result of the September, 2017, earthquake.  Once we started looking, we noticed cracks along the facades and realized that the buildings were empty.  In fact, the multi-story apartment house across the street from Casa Mannach is undergoing extensive repairs, thus the jack-hammers and pounding and coming and going of huge rebar-containing construction vehicles on the narrow street all day long.  I had read in Tony Cohan's Mexican Days that, having survived the deadly 1985 earthquake in Mexico City, he always leaves his shoes next to the door of his hotel room when visiting the city - just in case! 

                    Earthquake damaged building near our apartment.

       Lovely art deco hotel next to ours with breakfast outdoors.  

             Pretty pre-school in the Condesa neighborhood.

The Museum of Modern Art was our last venture and a relaxing place to spend some time.  I was introduced to the work of Kazuya Sakai, an Argentinian/Japanese artist whose huge, colorful canvases seemed full of joy.  

      The work of Kazuya Sakai in the Museum of Modern Art.

Our experience in Mexico City turned out to be delightful!  Tales of crime, while they may be true, are certainly not the whole story of Mexico or its capital city.  Despite being the 11th largest city in the world, according to Wikipedia, we found it to be full of old world charm that reminded us of Barcelona, as well as modern sophistication with hip, trendy neighborhoods, beautiful parks, nice restaurants, wonderful museums, and good people!    

Bruce and I are back in Maine now, getting settled into our house for the rest of the year.  We had a great Latino winter adventure, discovering new places and meeting up with people whom we care about.  Now we look forward to connecting with those who are dear to us right here!  A big thanks to Jane Andrews and Don Bouchard for sheltering us again on both ends of our travels!