Bienvenidos a Mexico!

(This was written last night.)

First, the good news: Bottles of Pacifico at the 24-hour convenience store a half-block from my hotel cost 75 cents. I loaded up tonight and figured I would share them with other hotel guests as we watched the Oscars at the Internet café just off the courtyard. (The rooms at Casa Gonzalez don’t have TVs or, for that matter, hot water. But the beauty of the hotel – actually a series of small buildings surrounding a central courtyard – and the graciousness of the staff easily make up for any shortcomings.)

Now, the less-good news: The Oscars cannot be found on the TV in the café here. But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe it’s time to cut all cords to America.

I arrived in Mexico City at 11 this morning, narrowly escaping a “wintry mix” that has apparently wreaked havoc and panic in the Baltimore-Washington area. I quickly cleared immigration, picked up my bag and grabbed a taxi. “Soy periodista,” I told the driver when he asked what I do. “Newsweek?” he replied.

Exploring the Zona Rosa neighborhood around my hotel, I came across more Starbucks than can be found in all of Baltimore. Tempted though I was, I resisted the call of a caramel frappucino and headed for a slightly more authentic option: VIPS, which seems like the Applebee’s of Mexico, only with free Wifi. Yay! I had the enchiladas, which were delicious, and bottled water.

I’m enjoying practicing my Spanish probably more than people here enjoy hearing it. After explaining to a Telcel salesman how I needed to buy minutes for the Mexican cell phone I brought with me, he said, “Do you want to speak in English?” Well, no, but I’d probably still be there if he hadn’t asked.

Otherwise, I found a bookstore that was playing Death Cab for Cutie and a music store, Mixup, that in addition to the usual music categories of rock, jazz and so on had the aptly-named Trash, where they kept the Slayer and Lamb of God. Later, I wandered down the Ave. Paseo de la Reforma (photo above), walked through a public park, sat under a tree and read Ian McEwan, watched some children play soccer and finally settled for dinner at Subway, the highlight of which was watching a French family and the Mexican employee speak to each other in English. “Cheese, please.”

Tomorrow, the work begins.