2017 February 17 Friday

I remember the man asked me, “¿Literatura?” at the door. Because I was going to a small performance. A theater piece.

I said yes, and he pointed the way I should follow.

That was October of 1990, twenty six years and four months ago. I had finally made my first trip to Mexico City. I stayed there for two weeks. Went to one or two performances, and several museums. Walked around the old, historical center of that ancient city. Took one trip out of town, to the pyramids at Teotihuacan.

Almost every morning I went out for a walk and had breakfast, then came back to my room and rested a bit before going out for the afternoon. My hotel was only a block from the Alameda.

I did not go to the movies, although I thought about it. “Pretty Woman” was playing at that time. I would not learn what it was about until many years later.

Visited the shrine at Tepeyac. Guadalupe. As I had promised a few years before. Pilgrim.

Also went to the archeology museum, twice.



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