In 2008 we had two opportunities to travel to Mexico: one unexpected (Silvia's Dad admitted to the hospital at death's door -- actually, in death's foyer hanging up his coat and hat -- only to go through yet another miraculous and medically confounding recovery); the other, a long-planned Christmas vacation with Silvia's Mom and Dad in Tangancicuaro and also with Juan Javier, Rossy, Maria Jose, and Maria Fernanda in Mexico City.

Our 6,000-mile trip began with a two-day drive in Silvia's 2005 Dodge Grand Caravan (the one where all the seats can fold flat into the floor, creating an awesome sleeping space -- unlike the new generation Dodge Dumbass Caravan with the stupid rotating chairs and incomprehensibly kludgy table). I drove most of the 36 hours, though Silvia and Daisy spelled me a couple of times. Also, to avoid yet another suspected stroke, I insisted on stopping overnight in a motel. Well, 6 hours anyway.

Our fist stop was Guadalajara, where we left Erick and Daisy with their Dad, then drove on to Tangancicuaro (for more information on the area, check out my Mexico Trip 05 page).

A couple of days later Silvia and I drove to visit Morelia, the capital of Michoacan, and one of the most "colonial" cities in Mexico. While there we chanced across a free concert being given by Raul di Blasio (Silvia dragged me by the hand like a timid child so I could get a picture).

On December 22 we drove to Mexico City to spend a couple of days with Juan Javier and family in their apartment in the charmingly continental neighborhood of Coyoacan, former home of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. Besides an amazing market (with delicious food and a ridiculously varied assortment of goods) and a lovely artistic and artisanal character, there are several bohemian restaurants, one of which had exactly what I was looking for everywhere: progressive Mexican cuisine.

I have to go into this a bit since, well, I love food, but also because, as delicious as traditional Mexican food is (particularly the tried and true regional varietals in the little villages scoured by the great Rick Bayless), I long for new and creative interpretations. Mexican haute cuisine (alta cocina Mexicana), pioneered by Bayless and expanded by my favorite chef, Priscila Satkoff of Salpicon, is truly amazing, and I refused to believe nobody in Mexico had caught the bug. Well, my faith was rewarded by a truly Zen accident. After completely giving up on my exhaustive (and annoyingly insistent) search, the first place I stumbled across was Los Danzantes. Wow! Appetizers: Vension Tostadas and Chapulin (grasshopper) Taquitos; Soup: Cream of Frijoles with Shrimp and Cream Foam; Entree: Huitlacoche (corn fungus) Raviolis with Yellow Mole; and Desserts: Fried Membrillo (quince) Empanadas and Goat Cheesecake with Guayaba (guava) Drizzle. Ridiculously expensive for Mexico (and even pricey for the US) but  totally worth it!

A friend of Juan Javier (a professor or colonial history) escorted us to the Church of San Francisco Javier of Tepotzotlan -- the premiere example of the ultra-baroque style in Mexico and maybe the world. The place was so overwhelming that if the two of them could have stopped talking about its history for a minute I might have broken into tears or even passed out.

That evening we went to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and it was Silvia's turn to cry. I finally understand (thanks to Juan Javier's friend) why every church in Mexico puts the icon of the Virgin Mary front and center and shunts Jesus off to the side. The miraculous appearance to Juan Diego, an illiterate Amerindian boy no less, was the first such appearance outside of Europe, and was taken as proof that Amerindians, Creoles, and other Christian non-whites were equal to Europeans in the eyes of God.

The next day we took the metro downtown, visited the Metropolitan Cathedral (more crying from Silvia) and the National Palace (where Diego Rivera painted his famous murals). We then took a cab to the Castle of Chapultepec (the Emperor Maximilian's home), followed by lunch at Los Danzantes (see above).

We spent Christmas Eve at the house of another friend of Juan Javier, a Cuban exile with a large presence (physical and vocal). Games, laughter, and a delicious chile-crusted pork leg rounded out the evening. A word about the pork: Silvia didn't realize she had to scrape them off the meat; she took one bite and almost died, adding to the evening's entertainment.

I should mention a couple of things about Mexico City. The night we arrived, we got a little lost in the city and made a wrong turn. At the stoplight, a dirty, half-naked bloody man stood in the crosswalk facing our car, and stared at us while he unrolled a tarp full of broken glass and proceeded to rub his body with the glass shards. He then replaced the glass, rolled up the tarp, and walked away. I could swear I saw this in a movie somewhere -- if anyone out there recognizes it, please let me know. The other point regards traffic: yes, everyone drives like a maniac and traffic is horrendous, but I liked it. Frankly, it was an adventure, and as long as you're prepared to meet your maker and are in no hurry to get anywhere, there's no reason why you can't do like the Romans and and barrel along with the rest of the mixed-metaphor herd.

Christmas morning Silvia and I drove back and spent the day with her parents in Tangancicuaro, where I had another in my continuing Adventures in Mexican Showering. Let's see, sometimes there's no hot water (brrr!), sometimes no cold water (aigh!), sometimes no water at all (what sound does soap make?); but when there is water, there are no towels. Needless to say, I caught a massive case of the flu (which I then passed on to the rest of the family, and from there introduced it to the US, where apparently it is now making the rounds).

Silvia's folks actually live in a small neighborhood outside of Tangancicuaro, called "Francisco J. Mujica." The town had its festival on December 27, with music, fireworks, and of course, drinks. Lots of drinks. I spent most of the evening shivering in the minivan with my flu, but I hear everyone had fun. Click here for a YouTube video of the party.

A couple of days later we took a trip to the Island of Janitzio on Lake Patzcuaro. It was cold but fun -- although I wish I'd had more time to shop for a wooden statue of Don Quijote and Sancho Panza for my Dad (there were amazing carvings at artisan shops).

Finally, we spent New Year's at her parents' home. The neighborhood hired a band and threw a party that started early in the morning and continued through the night. Click here for a video of the party on YouTube.

In order to avoid hassles, we took off Thursday January 1 for the US. Despite an hour-long delay as the border was shut down due to a crashing PC (thanks Bill Gates and/or Michael Dell), the trip was uneventful and quick. Her sisters, who followed the next day, were stuck waiting for 7-8 hours as everyone decided to drive home that same Friday. We got home without incident, although with Silvia sick and Daisy staying behind in Guadalajara to catch a later flight, I had to drive the entire way myself.

So, a good time was had by all, but nevertheless it's going to be a while before I even consider doing this again.