D.F. I freakin' love D.F. I always make a stop there when I'm in Mexico, but never stay more than a few days- maybe thats why I still love it so much. The metro is so easy to use and cheeeeap as hell, and you can buy ANYTHING you want while riding it. Seriously. I almost bought a pack of band-aids and a light up pen... But, I talked myself out of it. The men's socks that say 'beisbol' on the side that i saw outside of the metro station, on the other hand... still happy I bought those.
I stayed with my friend Mariana this time around. She took such good care of me- airport pick up, cafe y chisme, antojitos, y luego salsa en vivo en Colonia Roma. She knows me too well. I'm pretty sure I salsa dance better in Mexico than I do anywhere. Yes... Im taller than most of the dudes, but for some reason, its just what I DO there.
I left for Xalapa the next day. A 4.5 hour bus ride in the middle of the day and an evening cab ride got me to la cabana de mi mejor amiga. The rest of the week was a blur of moto rides, chelas, Zapateado, bad mediocre spanish, and lots of hugs. As soon as I got there... I realized that the 6 days I'd set aside for Xalapa were not going to be enough. But, I went with it anyway. This time in Xalapa was different. My last week there was my first visit back since living there. I packed it with a giant list of things to do and places to go. This time... I didn't. I just wanted to be, see my friends, and dance my life away. My first day was exciting- I was soooo happy to see my Paty. But after that... it was back to normal. Just like home. Which isn't bad. I went to dance class, met up with friends for lunch, and just kinda made my way through the city. Its just funny to think that this place that is so different from my home and, at one point, was super foreign to me has now become my second home. Its comforting in a way, knowing that no matter what, I will always be able to go back as if no time has passed.
My last day, Paty drove me to el centro in her moto to have breakfast and to buy some things for my abuelito. We rushed through everything, then went back to her place so that I could get my stuff together. We ran out so that I could grab a cab and this crazy bittersweetness fell over me, as always when I'm leaving Xalapa. It crazy. I know I could never live there again- I was reminded of how frustrating the super slow pace and crazy amount of flakiness that is part of everyone's daily life can be. But, when I'm there, I don't want to leave. Like I've said before, Xalapa will always have a huge place in my heart.
After, I ran off to Toluca to see my friend Cesar. I had less than 12 hours (Sooo typical of me). He picked me up and we went straight to the beloved bar of Garanona. This is an amaaazing drink, made only at a bar in Metepec (like el Centro of Toluca). It has a bunch of herbs, is a radioactive-greenish color, and always makes for a good time. After chatting with some of his friends, we found out that we have some mutual friends (craaazy) from SF. Then, off to the Cumbia party. It was pizza eating, dance party, fun, with a special guest DJ from San Antonio (Who yelled "Bay Area in the House" right after we met. WTF?). After a late night Queso Fundido, and 3 hrs of sleep, Cesar's parents made me breakfast and drive me to the bus station (I loooove Mexican hospitality. I just hope to return it when I can).
Long Story short... I had issues with my immigration papers and couldn't leave Mexico. My Marianna took care of me one more day, which gave me another morning to hang out in D.F. I found my new favorite diner in the world (Seriously, straight old school steez, with full on waitress uniforms and framed black and white photos of Pedro Infante in the walls. Swooooon.) and the bestest molletes known to man. Yeah, the extra night meade me miss my gig with Las Bomberas de la Bahia in San Jo, but... ya know.
First week back, I was back in rehearsals right away. I guess its a good thing... I didn't give myself the chance to miss Mi querido Veracruz like I usually do. I was able to take mi Abuelito to a Fandango in Santa Cara that almost made me cry with happiness. My Grandpa was born in Orizaba, Veracruz, but moved to California in the late 40's. In the 90's, he married a woman from Orizaba, and began spending most of his time there. Now that he is in his 90's, the long trip to Orizaba is no longer something that he can do. So, other than bringing him a bottle of Torito, taking him to a fandango was one of the only ways I could bring his country to him. Luckily, a family from Veracruz opens their house to the Son Jarocho community each month for a Fandango. I found out that mi Abuelo played Marimbol for years in Orizaba (a percussion instrument used in Son Jarocho, with roots from Afro-Caribbean culture). After dancing the night away, he said "Bailaste bien, Mija," which meant more to me than any comment a Son Jarocho teacher could ever give me! Amaaaazing.
On a side note, Las Bomberas de la Bahia played a show with our Buyepongo buys from LA. These guys are super fucking rad and are sounding really good these days. Seriously, check them out. Its always magic when we play a show together. Hopefully waaaay more to come.
Now.... I'm suuuper sick and have no voice. Apparently not sleeping is NOT good for you. Atleast my Bhangra/Bollywood gig today does not involve singing. Maybe one day I'll learn to slow down. Maybe.
My son of the moment. The video is super weird... Sorry.
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