With New Years shutting down most offices, and us not having a Sue or any meaningful local connections, finding a van was a little trickier than usual. So I semi-accidentally hired an oversized SUV from a black-tie rental agency. The SUV part wasn't the accident, but I had absolutely no idea how fancy the rental company was.
We got back from breakfast to see a jet black SUV parked in front of our apartment with windows so deeply tinted that none of us thought there was a driver in it. I had to literally cup my hands over the windshield to see if there was a human being in there. Ah! There was!
If the driver was even remotely surprised to see me staring him in the face from two feet away, it was only because his passenger wasn't wearing a three piece suit. Judging by the pristine Suburban he was driving and the silken sport coat he took off when he got out of the car, we were not his usual clientele. But to his credit, our Bondesque driver didn't miss a beat when I asked him where we should put the car seats. And I can promise you that this was the first time he'd ever been asked that. A half-blink, a barely perceptible head tilt, and then the opened the back door and folded up the leather arm rest that has never touched a bottle of wine that cost less than a hundred dollars.
As we got to know him and talk through our plans, it was clear that our driver, Alejandro, was delightful. He was nothing but professional when we spent twenty minutes trying to figure out if we could even fit all the car seats in. He acted as if our diaper bag wasn't the first that he ever loaded into his trunk. And he didn't even look up when Mimi kicked his seat with her dirty shoes while playing around in the back seat. I, however, was mortified. If you ever want to pay way more than market rate to conspicuously drive around downtown Mexico City, Alejandro is your guy.
Our first stop was Zocalo, the cultural and governmental center of modern Mexico.
In addition to the congressional halls and government offices, the president's own residence used to be in one of the centuries-old palaces flanking the central courtyard. But in 2018, the newly-elected president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador, rededicated the presidential palace as a public monument open to all. He remained in his far more humble family home in the Roma district (of recent movie fame) not too far from our apartment.
I have two too many kids to have done any type of meaningful political research for the trip (I'm just happy that we made it here), but AMLO, as he is more commonly referred to here, defies typical left-right politics and seems to be ushering in some meaningful and widely popular reforms.
The most visible reform is his apparent ability to reverse climate change.
I'm just as confused as you are as to why there is an ice rink in the center of the Zocalo, let alone one that is flanked by stars of David. But one thing is painfully clear, the residents of Mexico City are not natural born ice skaters.
Despite the visual homage to my people above the ice rink, Mexico is overwhelmingly Roman Catholic. In the first photo above, we're standing in front of the national cathedral. It's open to the public, and we briefly popped in.
I was able to sneak into the cathedral without any apparent divine objections. However, the first thing out of Mimi's mouth when she saw the chandeliers was, "Look at the menorahs!" But we made it out unscathed. At least in this life.
Alejandro picked us back up after about an hour walking around the Zocalo. A black SUV picking up passengers in front of government buildings was hardly out of place. But we stood out quite a bit more at our next stop.
First, a twenty minute car ride in which Mimi and Quinn lobbied hard for the cutest siblings award.
We arrived at the Papalote Children's Museum, and scurried out of our over-tinted black SUV as quickly as possible. We were more than a bit conspicuous.
Like everything else in Mexico City, the children's museum was gigantic, charming, and extraordinarily crowded.
But it was absolutely worth the stop. Our kids are still talking about it, and could have stayed there for days. Quinn almost did, but we found him pretty quickly.
And then almost as quickly as we arrived, it was back to the SUV.
Nona is far more comfortable getting into a deeply tinted black SUV in front of a children's museum than I am.
Our evening as delightful as they all had been that week. Dinner was at a nice little mom and pop restaurant. The food was great, but the real highlight was Quinn turning the charm up to 11. He walked over to a group of office mates having some after work beers, and made his was around the table, fist bumping every one of them. They absolutely lost their minds.
As was quickly becoming our tradition, we stoped for some helado after dinner. Then back to our apartment and melted into bed.
Viva Mexico City.
