Llegada

"Crowded," "smoggy," "dirty," this is what I've typically heard about Mexico City and in the first minutes of our arrival, as we exited the airport and entered the exhaust laden air, as we drove through La Merced and it's streets strewn with garbage and buildings blackened with grime I had a feeling of dread. Was what I've heard true?
    Okay, I can handle smell, grime, garbage, but then I looked over at Michael who was unsuccessfully trying to put on a seat belt that was much more decorative than functional and gave him a wide eyed tight smile. I knew(hoped) there was another side of the city, "Roma," "Chapultapec," "Coyoacan." I prayed that I was right and that I didn't drag a man who loves being at home more than life itself into a week of coughing and avoiding garbage.
     Our taxi driver raced recklessly down the streets. Similar to Athens, there was no rhyme or reason to turns, honks, or swerves. How drivers drive is a whole language in of itself which does not have the word, "cautious" in its vocabulary. And then we turned...

Off of Avenida Chapultapec, down tree lined Medellin and past the Fuente de Cibeles, a plaza, restaurants with outdoor tables, I breathed a sigh of relief. We arrived in Roma Norte.