On to Querétaro

Steve and I are usually pretty wary of street food, but we were curious about those green things the street vendors sell from wicker baskets. They call, "A diez, a diez, a diez, a diez, garbanzos!" A diez means 10 pesos, about 56 cents, for a clear plastic cone of garbanzos in their shells. If you want, the vendor will put chili powder and lime juice on top. Then the messy fun begins. You peel them and eat them, and man are they good. And we survived.

On Tuesday, we went to Museo de Arte Contemporaneo in Morelia. I wasn't eager to go because I don't like most contemporary art, but this museum held lots of pleasant surprises. Housed in a nineteenth century mansion in a parque next to the eighteenth century acueducto, it holds the work of current and former Michoacán artists. As we walked in the door, we were immediately captivated by an intricate work of cut paper called Sueno de Pátzcuaro (Dream of Pátzcuaro) by Marcy Miranda James de Quintanilla, who with her husband Martin Quintanilla, owns Microgallery Mandibula on Toole Avenue in Tucson. It had delicate hummingbirds, night herons, caterpillars and butterflies finely cut into white paper. In the next room was a large print of dancing skeletons by Martin Quintanilla called La Vida Loca (The Crazy Life). In the small world department, there is only one degree of separation, because I used to work with Martin's ex-wife when I was a hydrologist. We saw some wonderful paintings by Alfredo Zalce, the famous muralist who was born in Morelia, along with lots of other impressive works. 

On our last night in Morelia, we found our favorite restaurant, Cuish. It's two blocks north of Madero. Take Benito Juarez north from the Cathedral, then turn right on Calle de Santiago Tapia to #60 on the north side of the street. The ambiance is outstanding. Stone walls, beamed ceilings, red tile floor, pothos plants, perfect lighting, mellow music in Spanish. We had cheese enchiladas with a yummy red sauce, a gourmet salad, and chocolate tamales for dessert. The staff is charming, and the owner told us we were there on their one year anniversary of opening. If you go to Morelia, please support this wonderful, inexpensive spot so it will be there when we get back. Muchas gracias.

We had time on our last day in Morelia to attend a recital at the Conservatorio de las Rosas, the prestigious music school established in 1743, making it the first conservatory in the Americas. It is housed in a gorgeous sixteenth century ex-convento across the street from El Jardín de las Rosas. Students and their maestros played incredibly difficult works on the classical guitar and piano with breath-taking skill. We were very impressed.

Then it was time for our three and a half hour bus ride to Querétaro. Most people who haven't been to México assume that we would take a chicken bus, which is a rickety old school bus that allows livestock with the passengers while motorcycles, lawn mowers, and all sorts of filthy things are in the luggage compartment. México actually has an excellent bus system, and riding a bus in México is a far better experience than any plane trip I have taken in the past 40 years. The buses have plush wide seats with lots of leg room. If no one is behind you, you can raise the leg rest and stretch out with the seat reclined to 30 degrees. The windows are huge, with shades and shutters if you don't want to watch the enchanting scenery. At the bus stops (there were only two along the way), vendors enter the bus to sell snacks and drinks. There are rest rooms with sinks. We could have done without the movies but fortunately the volume was low and we could ignore them. 

Our trip took us across Lago de Cuitzeo, a huge lake where we saw some of the first birds we've seen on this trip. Lots of egrets, grackles, grebes and maybe pelicans. One disadvantage of living in Mexico is the dearth of wildlife. I really appreciate all the birds, reptiles, mammals and some of the insects that live in Tucson.  

Our first surprise was how cold Querétaro is. It gets down to the 30s F at night, which is pretty harsh for our thin desert blood. During the day, it is in the 70s and sunny. In other words, perfect. Our apartment is a privately owned condo I found on Airbnb. It's on Calle 5 de Mayo, at the edge of the historic district, a great location. We enter through a huge old wooden double door on an unassuming cobblestone street, and we're in an open  courtyard with palm trees, pink cantera stone floor and a swimming pool. We're on the third floor in a very modern apartment that's as big as Steve's house, about 2,000 square feet. There are two bedrooms, three bathrooms, including a master shower the size of a car wash, a den, large living room, kitchen with granite counters, and a laundry room. It's such a maze of corridors  that after two days, we still get lost in here. And that's just the main floor. Upstairs is the maid's quarters with another bedroom and bathroom, and there's also a private roof terrace as large as the apartment with another bathroom and a view of the acueducto. We could have used the garage if we had a car. For this we pay $50 per night. The owner is a customs agent and he said this place was okay when he was single, but when he got married and had children, he needed a larger place. 

Querétaro doesn't have the elegant buildings of Guanajuato or Morelia, probably because there were no silver mines here to make the Spanish crown and its Nueva España representatives obscenely rich. Querétaro was originally a farming and ranching hub, but now is one of the wealthiest cities in Mexico because of all the industry that has moved here, doubling its population to 1.3 million in the past ten years. Someone in Morelia told me the air pollution is so bad here, she couldn't consider making this her retirement home, but we haven't perceived any problems. 

Today we went to Mercado La Cruz, also known as Josefa Ortiz de Dominguez, named for the brave wife of an important Queretaro official who was a co-conspirator in the Mexican War of Independence of 1810. Spanish colonial authorities locked her up in a monastery when they discovered her role in the rebellion. Mercados sell fruit, vegetables, fish, cheese, clothing, household goods, and horrifying animal parts like whole pig heads that look like they're smiling. The seven-point Christmas piñatas hanging from the ceiling add to the colorful chaos. The seven points represent the seven deadly sins, which is why children smack them with bats, releasing a shower of candy. 

When you buy the delicious aguacates (avocados), the merchant asks if you are going to use them today or tomorrow. The avocados here are ready to eat when you buy them! Unlike at home, you don't have to leave a rock-hard avocado on the counter for a week, only to discover that by the time it has softened up, it's also starting to rot. 

At the Mercado Independencia in Morelia I saw this vendor with 12 chirping birds in 12 wicker cages on his back. Maya Angelou says she knows Why the Caged Bird Sings, although she never tells us the reason in her book by that name. I think caged birds and oppressed people may hope that they will some day be free. As the Mexicans sing in Cielito Lindo:

Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores

porque cantando se alegran

cielito lindo, los corazones

Sing and don't cry

Because singing, pretty darling, cheers up the hearts

As we walk down the street or sit in a restaurant, we are approached by adults and children who ask us for money or want to sell us something. The vast difference between the ease and freedom of our lives compared to the difficulty and limits of their lives is always on our minds. Because we were born a few thousand miles north of here, we ended up on the lucky side of the beggar/begged relationship. I have to wonder, what does this luck require of us?