Day 19. Mexico 2022. A bit of this and that

It was comparatively cool early in the morning, so I could walk to the park and from there follow the way of the ancient mule-drawn trolley (the tranvía de mulitas) all the way to downtown. This was one of my favorite rides as a kid but, alas, the last of these colorful ways of provincial transport was retired in 1981. There is still one of the cars inside a glass-sided building at the terminal park, and when I mentioned that I had traveled in such a car when I was a kid half of the people looked at me like I was an actual dinosaur, while the other half shook their heads in derision fully convinced I was a liar.

From there I moved to the Café de la Parroquia, to have a lechero, a gorda preparada con chorizo, and a gorda de dulce. This is an old tradition in Veracruz, where you order and you get a shot of concentrated coffee in a tall glass; you then wait until the lechero comes by, carrying two large kettles, one with more hot coffee and a second one with hot milk. You need to call his attention by clanking your spoon against the glass, and then he comes and from shoulder height pours milk and coffee until the mix is just the right color for you. True Jarochos might stop at the Café de la Parroquia for breakfast and for a very late supper, and it is quaint to see older gents and ladies dunking sweet bread in the lechero as they otherwise keep a very serious conversation going.

I wanted to go to the Museum/Fortress of San Juan de Ulúa, but I had enough time to go walk down the wharf, which reminds me of a couple of statues I saw yesterday. One is of a man in a turban and puffy pants, and reminds us of the immigration of Lebanese to Mexico in the late 1890’s to 1910’s. These folks, everywhere known as los harbanos (an onomatopoeia of the fact that they spoke Spanish with a distinctive accent, were traders at heart, and pretty soon started selling everything imaginable, from door to door and in easy payments, and some of them grew very rich and influential. The other was a statue of a Spaniard with its distinctive beret and carboard suitcase, to commemorate the immigration of the people that in the 1930’s fled the Franco regime. Many of them were highly educated, and came to strengthen the Mexican universities (my engineering drafting professor at the university came in a late immigration wave and I can tell you that he was very good but very tough). Many of the Spaniards, popularly known as gachupines, ended running grocery or fabric stores, and again became quite wealthy. At the end, Veracruz ended being the port of entry of many different folks, including Cubans, Blacks, Chinese, and Korean, and although always ready to tease them, the Mexican tradition of hospitality was extended to all, as represented by a strophe of the folk song El Tilingo Lingo:

Ay que bonito es bailar

El son del tilingo lingo

Que lo saben zapatear

Tanto el chino como el gringo

There were a few beautiful tall ships in the harbor, including the Cuauhtemoc from the Mexican navy, which was flying an enormous Mexican flag. These ships are normally operated by the naval schools of different countries, and several of them had congregated here to kick off the festivities for the carnival, which starts July 1. I also saw a monument to the Cuatro veces Heroica Ciudad de Veracruz, the 4-times heroic City of Veracruz, a title she acquired by being the brunt of attacking forces in 1814 (the last stand of the Spaniards against the revolutionary forces), 1837 (la Guerra de los Pasteles, or War of the Pastries, when French and British forces attacked to secure compensation for those of their citizens who had been despoiled by the revolutionary forces), the American invasion of 1847, and the American invasion of 1914. In all four instances the city defended itself in the best form it could, but in all four it was taken and the attacking forces prevailed ☹

By now the time was ripe for me to board my tour bus to San Juan de Ulúa. This fortress was originally built shortly after the Spaniards conquered Mexico, partly to defend the backs of Cortés and his forces from the Spanish stationed in Cuba, and part to provide docking facilities among the coral reefs. The fortress was built by dragging pieces of the reef out of the water and then shaping it as building blocks, and partly from the bricks brought by merchant ships as ballast. Pretty soon the wharf was expanded with a customs house and a large number of storage depots, to coincide with the rise of Veracruz to the position of foremost port for the European trade. In this second phase of construction some upper class accommodations were built (probably for the Port Admiral). Finally, in a third phase of construction a separate island was built for San Juan de Ulúa to serve as a prison. As a kid I remembered it as a cavernous and lugubrious space, to be feared above everything else (probably because my wicked Tía Mina told us that it was the prison for disobedient kids). Now I see that it must have been a horrible place but not as large as I remembered, probably confined in use for political prisoners (e.g., Benito Juarez).

Back in downtown I took one last trip to Boca del Río, to enjoy for US$ 0.50 a scenic ride in the bus, walked around for a while and had a volován de jaiba for lunch. This is a rather large square of flaky pastry, filled with a delicious cooked mix of crab, tomatoes, onions, olives, and a dash of spicy pepper. A meal on its own right!

Back at the hotel I was glad to cool down in the pool, and later went out for dinner to the local seafood shack, where I had arroz a la tumbada or spicy shrimp broth to which a good amount of rice is added, as well as shrimp, clams, fish, and a small crab. It is kind of a seafood soup but very hearty. I topped this delicious meal with a Percheron Popsicle of mamey. Life is good.