(Note: The day after I wrote this blog post there was a huge spike in Covid cases in Mexico. So who knows what the hell is going on? In keeping with the weather here the past months, the following should be considered as a rare moment of sunlight.)
Ready or not, Mexico City is roaring back to life. My dog Lucy and I just went for a walk in Parque México where the scene was livelier than ever. The balloon man and the cotton candy vendor were there, along with the camote vendor with his horror-movie whistle, the shoe shine boy, and the flower guy with his overflowing pushcart. There was a large group doing zumba on one side of Foro Lindberg, the broad open-air central area where skateboarders, frisbee tossers and and soccer dudes juggle for space. On the other side, underneath an arcade of magenta bougainvillea, a romantic private dance class was in progress, and a string quartet was playing Mozart. At El Moro, a long line of people eagerly awaited their churros y chocolate--everyone wearing a mask, as were a majority of the people in the park. And the clock--a gift from Armenian immigrants in 1930--tells the correct time for the first time since the pandemic began.
For me, the pandemic began on March 17, 2020, the day I left Mexico City for a stay in the country that I thought might extend as long as a month. Fifteen months later I finally made it back, during which time I changed, my life changed, the world changed--and I stopped blogging. But something in the air today--or was it that clock?--told me it was time to start moving forward, after 'the long pause' of these past many months. My love for Mexico City is undiminished, perhaps it has even grown, with a sense of tenderness for all that suffering endured. I plan to update my guidebook. I'll report on the battle scars, as well as find out what's new and blossoming--there's a palpable sense of energy emerging in Mexico City right now. The New Roaring Twenties are here. Stay tuned. Jim J.
