Sounds of the City

The first thing I noticed about Mexico City is the sound. I've never been immersed in so much unrelenting and varied sound. There are the usual city noises -- car horns, people shouting, children crying, sirens and engines.

But then there is the music. The expected mariachi bands, playing on the street and asking for money. The unexpected rhythms of hip hop and rap, accompanied by cheers for the sidewalk break dancers. Even on the subway, from one stop to the next, the loud blaring of rock and roll music from the modern version of boom boxes.

(This last one was suspect -- at each stop a new person got on and the last one got off. The style of music changed, but the pattern was the same -- very loud, and only a few bars played before the song switched. Were they waiting for someone to say "Play that one!" and then pay them for the privilege? Or just assuming we all loved their music as much as they did? We heard 60's rock, Mexican folk, Spanish ballads.)

And the drums, accompanying the native dancers, re-enacting the ancient dances of the Aztecs.

And the bells. I watched the man high up in the bell tower move from one bell to the next, ringing them in a dance of sound.

The other thing I noticed are the people. Thousands of people everywhere, filling the streets, overflowing the sidewalks, crowding the parks. From the rooftop restaurant, there are people moving in all directions as far as I can see, like so many small ants moving in a river of purpose. The impact is made larger by the fact that most are speaking in a language I can't understand, and the people and the sound come together in a cacophony of incomprehensible noise.