Day 40 - City Buzz Dialect

After a few weeks absence I am back to writing with my first post about Mexico City.

Mexico City

I woke up to the sound of traffic.  Someone had left the balcony window open on the far side of the room.  I was curious so I walked over to the window to get my first glimpse of Mexico City.  Outside the window I was greeted by a wall of Spanish colonial architecture.  The building across the street was an organised pattern of warm colours, full length windows and iron railings.  They seem to like their full length windows here even 5 stories up.  Low iron railings are placed in front of these full length windows to stop them from being completely suicidal.  Carefully leaning over the low railing I could see below a busy cobbled street full of cars, taxis, lorries, vans and the occasional old VW beetle.  The traffic was making a lot of noise and it seems drivers here look for any excuse to use their horn. 

“You are driving too slow, horn”

“You are driving too fast, horn”

“You are driving a red car as well, horn”

The pavements by the side of the roads where also full like two opposing conveyer belts constantly shifting people up and down the street.  The street below was like some kind of organized chaos.  I got a great sense of freedom looking out the window and catching my first proper glimpse of Mexico City.  Here in Mexico City, this was the start of my trip to Panama City. 

My first sight of Mexico City.

That morning I left the confines of my hostel and joined the chaos outside.  I had been in big cities before and I love the big city buzz but here in Mexico City it felt different.  This was the first major city I had been to where English wasn’t the first language and it was a bit intimidating.  I could feel the big city buzz but it was in a dialect I could not understand.  The fact that I could not understand or communicate with anyone made me feel a bit detached from the people and the city.  Of course I knew that Mexico City was a Spanish speaking city but reading about and researching a city is always very different from actually being there.  Otherwise travelling wouldn’t be nearly as fun.  I just wish I could speak bloody Spanish.

In some ways Mexico City wasn’t too different from other large cities of the world.  Although the pavements were a bit narrower and the buildings looked a bit different it had roads full of traffic, pavements full of people and lots of shops like any other city.  But there were some things Mexico City had that were unique to me, the first of which I noticed were the “famous” Organilleros.

Out of tune

Through the constant background sound of traffic and incoherent Spanish I could hear some strange music.  I went round the corner to find a man dressed in a beige uniform operating a hand organ. 

I had never seen anything like this before.  The organ was a large crafted wooden box with a crank at one side and a long single wooden leg supporting it from the base.  The music coming out of the box was this kind of old timely music, something you might expect from an old silent film.  

I would have sat down and listened to the music for a while but it wasn’t a nice sound coming from the old wooden box.  It sounded like it was constantly missing a random note every few seconds, like the organ was broken.  Maybe the organ grinder had accidently dropped his organ down a flight of stairs?

The organ grinder didn’t seem to enjoy the music his organ was churning out either.  With an angry look on his face he would constantly crank the organ with one hand and demand money with the other hand.  “Surely you are never going to get money from passers-by with that attitude” I thought to myself.

Another street profession that was new to me was the shoe shiners.  I had seen shoe shiners before in old gangster films but they were a everyday sight here in Mexico City.  Most were relatively young looking boys who ran around with a small wooden box and a dirty looking brush, other more experienced shoe shiners operated from a raised metal chair that their client would sit on whilst having their shoes shined. 

I thought having your shoes shined would be a social activity similar to getting your hair cut.  You spend a few minutes in close proximity with someone who is doing a job for you; surely you are going to make light conversation with that person?  But this wasn’t the case with shoe shining.  

Men in suits would just sit or stand there in complete silence reading a newspaper whilst the shoe shiner would polish up their expensive shoes. It was a scene of class difference that I didn’t like, but who am I to judge?  I don’t know the tune of this city.  I am only a foreigner who has just arrived and doesn’t speak the language.  I had a lot to learn about this fascinating city.