Morelia, then Zihuatanejo

We have some stuff to catch up on from Morelia, here is a quick taste:
The Church of the Virgin of Guadalupe: like an inside out birthday cake! With pink and gilt and flowers and more gold gilt!
The Aqueduct: neato and pretty and finally a carless street. Also, this neighborhood seemed nicer than the others we saw in Morelia. More like one we'd want to live in. However, it is the University neighborhood and we were there on the weekend, when the vast majority of the students go home.
The Natural History Museum: Poor Peter. He had gotten kind of excited about the term "skeletal animals" in our guidebook. They had some woolly mammoth bones, but that was about it. In another room they had some stuffed animals, and a note about how we have to preserve nature. Then there was a room where three children and two adults were making construction paper monarch wings. Then, in the last room, they had, well, they had human fetuses. And they had some stuffed siamese animals -- baby goats (I think) joined at the head, or joined at the body. That room, it was horrible. It made the whole place seem creepy. Me: Peter, they're going to eat those children!
The Contemporary Art Museum: Surprisingly nice (especially after the above). They have changing exhibits, and this was a painting and drawing contest results. Some were really interesting and some were really good. It was a nice space and we enjoyed walking through it.
The Orquidario: We took the combi out there. It's next to the convention center, and we walked by a dog show. The orchid house itself only had one house open, the other two were used for cultivation. The orchids were beautiful, but I think the place I visited in Guatemala was more exciting, or the annual orchid show in San Francisco.

One more meal at Restaurant Lu while we waited for the weekly fireworks show to start over the cathedral (that's right, I said weekly): I had a great chicken dish: pounded and grilled and wrapped around fresh pineapple, with a delicious peanut-based mole sauce on top. My fear of peanut-butter and jelly was unfounded -- the sauce was not sweet but instead was complex. It reminded me of pumpkin seed moles, which I love.

Peter was hit hard by the cold (not flu) and had to take it easy for a few days in Morelia. When he was feeling better, we hit the above places, and then came down to Zihuatanejo, the beach.

On the bus here, I saw an iguana sunning on the sloped side of the freeway.

As we got off the bus, I heard, alongside all the normal bus sounds, a ton of birds. It was just about sunset, and I could peek through the rafters outside and see tons of birds swarming everywhere. Even once we passed into the interior of the station, there were tons of birds swarming all over the roof there, squawking it up.

We are staying on Playa La Ropa, (Clothes Beach - named for a ship that crashed and spilled its cargo of silks up onto the beach), which is two beaches over from the main beach. It's quieter than that one, I imagine, and cleaner. It is a good beach for swimming, at all times except at night, when the crocodiles come out from the lagoon into the ocean. The first morning, I noticed that nobody was swimming. I asked one of the women staying in our hotel, and she said that a crocodile -- 10-feet long! -- had not returned to the lagoon yet, and was still in the ocean. There was a boat and some men on shore with poles who were trying to find it to guide it home. They were also warning any potential swimmers. Eventually, they decided it must have gone home, because there was no sign of it.

Our hotel bungalow is directly on the beach with a little patio facing the water. It is rustic, and the fridge needs a little help in closing, but it's a great location and I think the bed is comfortable, and the ceiling fan over it really works well.

The beach is hot, but there are constant breezes to cool you down, especially in the shade of the palapas and coconut palms. There are simple lounge chairs for our hotel, and not many people staying there.

We don't do much. Last night we went into town to eat at a place I had read about online, Tamales y Atole Any. I don't love tamales usually, but these were great. Mine had rajas (poblano chilies), cheese, and epazote (a green herb). Peter got the chile verde.

From there, we went to the super huge supermarket (the traditional mercado was closed, or we would have gone there) to get supplies so that we don't have to pay too much for mediocre beach food.

There are people walking up and down the beach selling junk, and they have para-sailing, but it's not as intense as other beaches we have been to in Mexico -- though it might also be that we're further down the beach from the hubbub. Today we went up to a restaurant for lunch that the people staying in our hotel recommended, and there, and along the way, we got hit up more. There was a man who basically would provide anything we wanted -- snorkel? horseback riding? ganja? We turned him down on all counts, and as we walked on, I pointed out that if I had not been there, he might have suggested much more to Peter.

Lovely sunset tonight. Last night was less exciting, with just the red ball of the sun sinking and then gone behind mist. Tonight there was more color and excitement. I don't know if I have been on a beach in Mexico with a sunset view -- even the pacific beaches (Yelapa) I have been on before faced the wrong way.

Tomorrow we might go see the crocodiles at the lagoon - they also have parrots and iguanas.

In Honor of the Table Salsa

The table salsa, is what I call it: the salsa that the waiter brings to your table, pretty much no matter what you order, though you usually have to ask for butter, and even at times for salt. Pretty much, this salsa is going to be great. The taqueria on the corner has two: a green avocado salsa that is spicier than it looks and a deep red pepper one that is milder than it looks (more smoky than spicy).
Yesterday, the dutch guy at our hostel who is riding his motorcycle all the way down to Patagonia said he thought the tacos there were really spicy. I looked at him in confusion and finally asked, "Did you put salsa on them?" He said, "Yes. I put a little green salsa on the first one. The taco was so spicy that I put a lot more green salsa on the next one to try to make it more mild." Me: "Um, the green salsa is pretty spicy. The tacos are not at all..."
Today's breakfast came with two salsas: a red one of medium spice that I slathered on my fried eggs and on the ubiquitous refried beans, and a small container of habanero salsa -- I tried that one and then left it alone. At the table next to me, I saw a Mexican woman put a fair amount on her sandwich and admired her strength.

The best restaurant in Morelia

I found a blog of a woman who lives here in Morelia (though she seems to be not from here). She recommends restaurants at times, so we decided to go to one for comida (the mid-day meal here, which is the big one, whereas cena [dinner] is minor). The first one we tried has closed for good, so we gave up and decided to go to what she says is the best restaurant in Morelia: The restaurant at the Best Western. It is called Restaurant Lu, after the chef who has taken it over and made it fabulous, Lucero Soto Arriaga.

Just yesterday, I wanted so sit and sip a cappuccino in the main square, and I scoffed internally at the idea of going to the Best Western. Yet today, there we went. And boy was it good. I had read about the tasting menu the chef has made in celebration of 2010's bicentennial of the independence, so we both ordered that.

The menu took us through three stages of Mexico's history and then gave us dessert at the end: Pre-Colonial, Colonial, and Independence.

Pre-Colonial included two small, squash-flower, soft tacos steamed in banana leaf; a tiny corunda, or triangular tomale, and a clay jar with some soup or sauce in it, with the top covered in masa then cooked. The highlight of this dish was a salsa made from pumpkin seeds, I think.

Colonial: Salad jumping out of a cucumber with blackberry, grapefruit or orange, lettuce. Sope (thick tortilla) of pickled pig's feet (I tried one bite), sope of hibiscus flower (delicious! interesting!), and sope of some kind of chile (I liked more than Peter).

Independence: Red white and green dishes: Enchiladas with lettuce and jicama. filled with avocado slices, and chile en nogada (something that readers who read my last Mexico blog several years ago will know that I don't like, but this one was good -- only she used a different, small chile, which was too spicy, so we just used bits of it with our sweet mincemeat and absolutely perfect walnut sauce and pomegranate seeds). Both of these were great -- super rich flavors.

Dessert was maybe the best part, if a little large. It was Ate with Cheese in three sectures. Ate is fruit gel. Like membrane if you have had that. This one had guava gel, then guavas that were stewed or something, stuffed with a brie-like cheese and with a mild soft white cheese across the top. Super delicioso.

Oscar Chavez y los Morales

Peter has my old cold (I still have a bit of it, too, I think) and it is hitting him pretty hard. Since we've returned to Morelia, he has slept a lot. We took the private room at the hostel (it's only a few bucks more than two dorm beds), and so at least he has a fairly comfortable place to be while he's sick. Private bathroom and everything!

This morning we were sitting at a cafe in the nearby plaza, and some people brought by a flyer for a concert tonight. I decided to go. Peter wasn't up for it, so joined me at the corner taqueria before we separated: him to lay down again and me to stand in a cold former cloister. The concert was great -- a ton of people. Oscar Chavez y los Morales were great -- traditional Mexican music played and sung beautifully. During La Llorona, the power gave up. Eventually, they got the sound back on, then some of the lights. Not far from where I was standing, a man lowered a huge power cord down from the roof, but they didn't end up using it.

One thing that surprised me: when the power went off, everyone clapped! I would have been insulted if it were me singing, but I don't think they meant it as an insult. It seemed more like a "we're all here together for this." and maybe a "I believe in you to fix this" They clapped again when the music was restored. However, one thought I had was "I thought Mexicans don't clap." Of course, one must not generalize, but for all the spectacular shows we saw in Guanajuato, there was always just polite-level clapping -- never cheering or anything, even when it was kids performing or taking a bow. So I thought it was something cultural -- just not something Mexicans do much. This crowd, however, cheered for the power going out, coming back on, and then for ideas they liked (the singer talked about how he had sung for the Zapatistas in Chiapas, and that was popular).

Morelia: Day 1 (there is some good stuff in here, so even if you don't feel like reading the whole thing, head down the bold part)

Our bus to Morelia left Gto at 6:50. I took Dramamine, popped in my headphones, and got a good morning's sleep on the way here, which was good because I didn't sleep well last night between the partying students at some nearby bar and my coughing. I did get to see a bit of the ride, including this beautiful lake that the highway bisects -- it was perfectly calm, a crystal mirror of the mountains and hills around it. Bus movies: Beverly Hills Chihuahua and The Bucket List.

Towards the end of the bus ride, Peter chatted with a middle-aged American couple, Liz and George, and they ended up sort of inviting us to come to Patzcuaro! It turns out their friends who were supposed to use the second room in the B&B where they are staying could not come. There might be some friends from Gto coming, but they didn't think so. They would like the room to get used, so they offered it to us. We learned more about their lives: they have a house in Gto that they visit from their home in Oregon. We told them about our trip and how we might end up living in Gto. The woman said they might know of job opportunities -- she knew of one now, taking care of two elderly women in the evenings, and they wanted an English speaker. Patzcuaro was our real destination for Day of the Dead, but we had ended up booking the hostel in nearby Morelia because accommodation in Patzcuaro were full to expensive. We wait to hear from them about their friends, but are hopeful to get a free place to stay in Patzcuaro. Even if we do, we would return to see more of Morelia, most likely.

Our hostel, in spite of its absurd name (Tequila Sunset Hostel) is very pretty. It is in the center of town too, so that's nice.

Morelia is a beautiful colonial city. Much larger than Gto (600,000 as opposed to Gto's 70,000), it feels a bit more like Oaxaca to me with streets on a grid, but already I can sense that it's a wealthier city (Oaxaca and Chiapas are the poorest states).

We ate breakfast at the Jardin de las Rosas, a lovely little square. Morelia, and its home state of Michoacan are also known for being a stop on the Monarch route. They arrive mid-November, are not quite here, but during breakfast I spotted several other types of butterflies, including two large black and yellow ones (not swallowtails). I think I like this town.

We had heard from our new roommate, Ronda, that Morelia's day of the dead festivities were starting today, and we glimpsed people walking by carrying structures for altars covered in marigolds. I saw some papel picado (cut paper) hanging from the ceiling of the Museo del Estado and suggested we peek in there. Turns out they were having a concert in the courtyard: A good classical guitarist who sang traditional Latino folk songs, ending with one familiar to me, La Llorona. From there we were ushered in to another courtyard where they had some paper mache "Catrinas" on display and where they brought out treats for everyone: small sugar skulls, long, thin cookies called "huesitos" or "little bones", and Guava juice. I commented to Peter that I felt like we had crashed a party, but that was nothing compared to what was to come.

We walked over to the main plaza, La Plaza de Armas, where we saw more altars being set up, on the way passing the school of fine arts (peeked in to see about a brochure but were disappointed in the student work we saw, so didn't bother). The hall of justice had a beautiful dia de muertos set up in the courtyard and I also got to see the mural there of Morelos (the city's namesake) by Calderon.

Continuing our walk, I yet again stopped Peter to pull him in to see more altars -- today seems to be the day to build them. This time, I thought we were going into a University building, where students were making altars all around two large courtyards and in the connecting hallways. In the second courtyard, a girl approached us and tried out her English. She asked where we are from, and we asked her how it was decided who did which altar (it was classes, well groups, and it was a contest). Peter asked her what she was studying there and she struggled to translate to English, but finally made clear that she's a Junior. "Wait, this is a high school?" "Yes. Do you want to see the one I worked on?" Peter and I froze for a second and then said, "Yes" After she showed us her group's altar, a boy approached us in Spanish and asked if we would like to see his group's altar. Sure! So he lead us to another side of the courtyard where he and his friends gave us a fantastic explanation of their altar: the history of the people they were honoring (Morelos and a woman who, they explained, was also prominent in the revolution); the significance of lake Patzcuaro, which was featured, and the symbol of the fish (the fishing history of Michoacan is important for the whole country); and all the different parts of the altar. At some point, it seemed like they maybe thought we were judges, their explanations were so careful and complete -- also three different boys explained to us (with some repetition, but not entirely), much like a group presentation. I was thiking, "I want to teach students like this!" After this group, which went on a while, I said, "Peter, I think we'd better get out of here before someone else thinks we're judges." Peter said, "I think we'd better go look at the next one!" We looked at a few more, snapped pictures, and saw very few teachers. The few we did see looked at us a little suspiciously but didn't say anything (Teacher in me says, "What? We endangered your school by coming on! Kick us out!"). We both felt like telling the teachers what wonderful students they had there, but instead we just left, laughing all the way down the street.

From there to the Sweets Market, though so far we haven't tasted many candies here that we like, so we didn't buy any. I want to try the preserved key limes stuffed with coconut but another day.

Back to the hostel to catch up on more sleep. Tonight there is supposed to be a parade of "living Catrinas" (I imagine people in costume) and I think a band is playing in the Plaza's bandstand.

Final destination analysis: Hard to say. Morelia is so vibrant (of course, it's festival time). The two cities are very different in feel -- there are more cars here, and more of a city vibe. I have loved stumbling into so much going on today, but who is to say that's the normal city when it is not festival? If we go to Patzcuaro to stay tomorrow, we would still come back to spend some non-festival time in Morelia and see its sights. There are also many outlying towns around Lake Patzcuaro and maybe around Morelia to visit.

Pictures of all of this to come eventually...