Hunger in Puebla, mishaps in Cholula

Fun title, huh? As my stay in Mexico is winding to a wistful close (Dec. 22 is my departure date), I'm trying to make sure that each weekend involves some sort of special Mexican adventure. Three weekends ago, me, Paul plus a handful of Mexicans, Frenchies and a New Zealander went to Malinalco, in the State of Mexico. The town really is a hidden gem. Craggy green mountains tower over the city center of two-story concrete buildings painted eccentric shades of red, orange, blue and yellow. Narrow streets lead mostly in the same directions: back onto the highway, through a crowded food market, or to the archeological site, where Aztec warriors came for spiritual training centuries before the Spanish "offered" Catholicism as a religious alternative.

The next weekend I partied like the college student/Mexican I am no longer suited to be, and last weekend I met up with Texan Grant in Puebla, the capital city of a similarly named state about 2 hours east of Mexico City. It's a city that's so close to Mexico and such a standard stop along the tourist route, that somehow I managed to put it off until the very end. I hopped on a bus Saturday morning to Puebla's bus terminal, then rode a public bus through clogged traffic to the center. Grant and I (mostly I) marveled at the painted ceramic tiles (or azulejos) that bedazzle all the historic buildings around Puebla. Floral patterns and symmetric designs painted in deep blue glaze are most common, while others are yellow and green and equally mesmerizing. We stopped in the Alfeñique Museum, which details Puebla's history through maps, paintings and fancy French-influenced gowns. The ornate white molding on banisters and ceiling lends the museum the title alfeñique, a technique for making cooked sugar decorations, like those on a wedding cake or Day of the Dead skulls.

Next stop was a beautiful colonial church whose interior was nondescript, but whose facade was covered in more of the shiny ceramic tiles. By then, it was 1 p.m. and I was starving, but we were waiting for Grant's girlfriend to get out of a dentistry conference to get lunch with her and her classmates. So I bought a giant bag of popcorn covered in Valentina salsa from a little stand by the entrance, while Grant purchased the world's largest taco. Seriously, it was an entire serving of steak and fries, plus refried beans and cheese, on a mammoth tortilla. We headed into the Zócalo and dropped by the Casa de Cultura and the giant cathedral. The conference ran over, so we stopped by the Museo Bello and checked out Señor Bello's extensive collection of everything - keys, locks, chests, music stands, Chinese porcelain, oil paintings, bronze kitchenware, etc. - in his ritzy colonial mansion. I might've lessened the value of some pieces by leaning on them or touching them absentmindedly, but no one yelled at me, so at least I got away clean.

Finally, it came time for lunch. Well, for the others, at least. Just as had been the case on Friday night at a post-party taco joint, this taquería served only meat tacos. Usually a taco place will at least have tacos with boiled cactus (nopales) or mushroom fillings, but not this one. Just strange cuts like brain, tongue, intenstines and a mosaic of mystery meat. Defeated by hunger, I ordered a simple quesadilla. When it came with spare chunks of unidentifiable meat, I picked them out and forged onward. When it started dripping with oily, grayish meat juice, I sent it back. Just as I stood up to clarify I didn't want another one, a fresh quesadilla was served. It was speckled with red beef. The waitress and I eyed each other as I explained that a new meat-covered quesadilla was still not vegetarian friendly. She slowly pushed the meat around with her fork, as if to show me that it was removable (I know about the juice, lady!) before I walked away and left her plate in hand.

When the dentists left Puebla and returned to Mexico City, Grant and I headed to the crafts market so I could salivate over talavera pieces (a white and glazed type of earthenware, says Google). Of all the flower vases and mirrors and tea sets I fondled, I went home instead with a pocket-size candle holder. With my genetic disposition to shop fulfilled, we took a public bus to Cholula, a small city nearby. We wandered in the dark to the Zócalo, a very lively and charming place to be on a Saturday night, and got our bearings. We headed out to find a hotel that a Cholulan friend of a friend had recommended. Instead, we find a row of abandoned buildings on a street with no lights, and decided to use my guide book instead. The first place we found was pretty dingy, with just a double bed and a bathroom whose wall didn't quite reach the ceiling. The next place we tried was fancier, but completely booked. Apparently there was some sort of convention in Cholula that weekend. The receptionist made us a reservation at another hotel, and we walked around for an hour with no luck. Finally a cab driver we had asked earlier ran up to us with the directions and drove us there.

Our hotel was decent, but a bit much. Every room was really a suite, so for the two of us we had two bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room with concrete couches built into the wall. Then Grant read a follow-up text from our hotel-suggestor saying that the hotel was in San Andrés Cholula. That's when we realized that the city has two municipalities, and we were in San Pedro Cholula. But it was 10 p.m., I still hadn't eaten and Grant's head cold was increasing with every sniffle, so we stuck with the Zocalo and watched some "Evita" before bed.

Sunday morning was far more successful. We ambled through an indoor market, pointing disgustedly at pig snouts and giant vats of cow head soup, then visited a cathedral, a history museum and a convent whose chapel has nearly 50 domes...crazy! Probably one of the most unique religious spaces we've seen in Mexico though. From there, we headed up to the giant colonial church sitting hilariously on top of a massive Aztec pyramid. Unfortunately, the pyramid is still buried, so the true irony of the matter isn't as obvious. Around the pyramid's base, however, is a well-kept archeological site with temples, palace walls and a courtyard for people in Aztec costumes to dance in a big circle while gringos take pictures.

Determined to see the second municipality - which is populated more by university and exchange students, plus hippies - we walked the lengthy journey to San Pedro. We ordered pizza at an eclectic restaurant around the city square, which naturally came with pork rinds on top (the 15-year-old waiter misinformed us that tlalitos was an Italian lettuce). After lunch, we asked a lady at an ice cream stand in the street if she could point out the taxi stop. Her customer then whipped out a walkie-talkie mid scoop and called us a cab. We're still not sure if she works with the cabs, or if this is a normal occurance.

We made it home in one piece, however, and then I tried to make veggie burgers as a battle cry against all carnivorous encounters I'd had that weekend. Absentmindedly I blended the ingredients into a veggie burger pancake batter that refuses to cook on the stove or in the oven.
Maria: 0. Meat: 4

Overnight Climate Change Expert

While I've always had a particular interest in environment-related issues, I've never paid too much attention to climate change policy. But now it's my job to know these things, so consider me an overnight expert. Last month, I signed a contract to participate in a news team for the official web site of the COP16 climate change summit in Cancún. I'll spend about 2.5 weeks in the city of spring break fame reporting on the various conferences and revelations, all while bossing around a photographer and cameraman to oblige my journalistic whims. The entire project is a month long, which means I get two paychecks, which means: Yay. All expenses are covered, and we get an allowance for two beers a day, naturally.

To reiterate my position as an expert, I wrote my first paid freelance piece for a non-Mexican publication last week. Read: Yay. It's for SolveClimate News, an online service focused on all things environment and climate change, and the story was also picked up by Reuters.

Read the story here.