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Today it was raining. Not in the beginning of the day so much, and not all day. But it rained. Oh, how it rained. My first part of the day consisted of getting tamales for breakfast, and a huge cup of juice. It was a thirst quenching amalgamation of orange, pineapple and cactus. It was so incredibly delicious, and was blended fresh, while we waited. On the way back to the departamento we spoke briefly with a very pleasant old man, who waddled quite nicely. He had a hard time walking, but by the look on his face you might imagine he was much enjoying it.
After breakfast, Rose and I took the pesero (minibus) from the Zocalo, to this Asian market near Coyoacan. I can’t even recall how many times we nearly died. The drivers in DF are crazy, but the bus drivers are even worse! Our bus was travelling against traffic, but had its own bus only lane. This however did not stop other people from being in our lane. Everything from parked delivery trucks, to oblivious pedestrians, to oncoming traffic! Instead of stop and go around, what does the bus driver do? Of course! He honks his horn a few times and darts directly into oncoming traffic without slowing down one bit. If you don’t get out of our way, too bad! We did however make it there in one piece. The prices at the Asian market were not really that great. Most things more expensive than in the states even. I did get this huge bag of soymilk powder though, for only 20 pesos. You just add water, then let it chill out in the fridge for a bit. I havent made any, so I can’t tell you if its any good. We then stopped for a couple of items at Wal*Mart (not my idea), which in Mexico is called “Superama”.
We took an autobus (city authorized bus) on the way home. It connects to cables, much like the MAX in Portland, but its not on tracks. He drove much slower, and seemed to actually care more about the lives of the passengers, than the amount of fares and speed of transit. Unfortunately however there was a young boy playing the recorder the whole ride home. You know, those off white little plastic flute-y things. He was playing it horribly. The boy did apologize in the event that he may have annoyed anyone, but said if you enjoyed it to please pay him. Not to my surprise, he did not gather any donations.
We stayed home for a bit, to let the rain subside before going out again. Rose led me to the Merced market in the shady callejon behind the apartments. The fruit there was alright, but the vegetables were terrible and few things priced well. I did okay, buying one avacado, one onion, and a zuccini for only 11 pesos (one dollar). Around the corner from the market is a tortillaria where tortillas that are dropped on the ground are sold just the same as those that are not. Hands are not washed. I like it that way. 7 pesos para un kilo. What a steal. At the corner market in the building I live in, we picked up a half-kilo of Oaxacan cheese, and came home and made quesadillas. Muy excelente.
At 5pm there was a ceremony on TV, where representatives from each party give a speech, and then the president hands over some box (im not certain what this represents). Vincente Fox was scheduled to appear at 7PM. The representative from the PRD went on at 648pm. Within three minutes, the entire section of PRD politicians rushed the podium and unveiled posters proclaiming Fox a traidore, and Mexican flags. They began chanting “Vote for Vote!” and “Me-xi-co!”. The leader of the house tried to tell them to please respect the rules, but they weren’t about to listen. Fox was unable to give his speech in the building, and said a few simple words and handed over the box, in the entryway. He promply left.

This is a revolucion! These are people ready to risk everything for what they believe in! The passion alone amazes me. Let the rain begin.