Back in the Western Hemisphere

The thought of going to Mexico felt more consequential somehow than many of the other countries on our list. Mexico is our next-door neighbor and I was embarrassed I’d never seen it. Many of us Americans cross oceans looking for cultures different from our own, forgetting we have a gem so close by.

CDMX: Not just your layover to Cancún

We started in Mexico City, or CDMX for short. We imagined a hectic metropolis with short, colorful buildings and crazy traffic. Instead, we were met with a clean and picturesque city with modern infrastructure, polite traffic, and inviting public parks every few blocks. It was nicer than most American cities I’ve visited and had more public spaces than anywhere I’ve ever seen.

I know there are grittier sides to the city but we were strongly advised not to visit them. Even Mexicans don’t cross sides very much: one guy we befriended told us he only goes to Tepito (dressed up in leather and jean cut-offs to fit in) when he wants to, you know, buy a TV for $5.

One thing I was relieved to learn, though, is that you don’t need to go to the dangerous neighborhoods to get good local food. Taco stands abound, and we ate most of our meals at them, setting us back ~$1-3 per person. They were phenomenal and simpler than we expected; at most places it’s only delicious meat on a soft (corn) tortilla. Maybe onions and cilantro (never tomatoes), maybe queso if you ask for it. But the real kicker that brings it all together is the sauce. Every restaurant, from a cart to high-end, will offer some choice of salsas and it will always include the splendid phenomenon that is salsa verde. I want salsa verde in my life every day forever.

Fun fact: Mexico city has more museums than any other city in the world.

Tacos are definitely the quintessential Mexican dish, but they only scratch the surface of culinary offerings. The task of trying everything we wanted could have easily made visiting Mexico City only about food. But it wasn’t. We also loved the murals and architecture. I went salsa dancing and remembered how much I miss it. We had a blast seeing a lucha libre show – picture grown men and women chanting profanities with their children as other grown men and women throw each other in the air, pretending to feud while wearing spandex over their faces, unmentionables, and nothing else. It was part WWE, part soap opera, and all entertainment.

Most of all, though, we appreciated the people. At this point, we have a lot of experience being lost and confused in a new place. Most people are polite about it, but the people in Mexico really took time out to explain how things worked, even if they owed us nothing. I think part of this was because they seemed proud of the culture they were explaining. We sensed an attitude of “why would I want to be anywhere else?” and it’s easier to love a place when the people living there love it too. People were kind, both to us and to each other, and it made me feel like I could make real friends here.

I have trouble pointing to a specific single thing that made me love the people in Mexico City. They just gave me good vibes. It’s a lot like the way I felt about the city in general – it’s just nice and has a lot to offer.

Butterflies + that time we sort of hitchhiked

Every year, millions of monarch butterflies across the U.S. and Canada fly south up to 3,000 miles for the winter. The migration is a scientific marvel, exceptional among insects in its length and complexity. All the butterflies come together to one very specific region, and this region is in central Mexico just a few hours outside of CDMX. We just couldn’t resist.

We took a bus to a nearby town and caught a cab up to El Rosario, a nature reserve with the largest concentration of butterflies in the world. A guide walked us up the trail, where we kept stopping with giddy excitement to take pictures of 5, 10, even 20 butterflies all roosting together. As our guide hastened us forward, I discovered this was just the pre-show. The numbers kept growing until we found ourselves in a clearing where we were in the eye of a butterfly storm, the monarchs swirling around us like the world’s cutest tornado. You could literally hear their wings fluttering. Looking up, we saw trees shining orange as if it were autumn, brimming not with faded leaves but hundreds of butterflies. It was magical.

We met a middle-aged midwestern woman named Debbie who comes here every year as a volunteer with “Monarch Watch” to help with tagging and tracking the butterflies and got to pick her brain a bit about the process. It was a long day, so as Jack and I hiked back down, we relished and chose to ignore the small hitch in our plan: we didn’t know exactly how we were going to get home. We hoped we could catch a cab back to town in time to get a bus to CDMX, but as we stepped out of the closing sanctuary to a barren parking lot and no cell phone service, I started seeing visions of us huddled under a blanket of butterflies hiding from the park rangers all night. Just when we’d lost hope, our savior arrived in the form of a squat and rather winded Debbie, along with her 2 conservationist friends. We approached her like old pals, casually mentioned our predicament, and learned that they were headed a different way but would pass through a town closer to CDMX.

And that’s how we found ourselves on a 2-hour hitch-hiked car ride with 3 women in their 50s. They chatted our ears off about butterfly conservation the whole way and never asked us our names.

As usual, see the Photos tab for more pictures!