Review - Down and Delirious in Mexico City by Daniel Hernandez

By Victor David Giron

My mother is Mexican, from a small town in the western mountains of Mexico, in a state called Michoacan, west of Mexico City on the way to the Pacific Ocean. I was born in Chicago. Because my mother's family is so large and she's had such a strong bond with them all, I've been to Mexico practically every year of my life. As a child there were some summers where me and my sister would stay with one of my aunts and cousins, living just like Mexican kids though everyone around was distinctly aware that we were Americans, that we were "Gringos." It was evident in our hair-styles, our clothes, the music we listened to, what we tried to dance to, the sports we played, and yes our accents. But as kids, especially living there for months at a time, we'd find it easy to fit in, though we'd always long to go back home. As we became teenagers and the need to fit in with other teenagers became ever more important we stopped wanting to visit Mexico.

Mexico City was always the place we'd fly into, but quickly met by relatives to either be escorted to their car or to catch a taxi in the 'safe area’ and head to one of the bus terminals that would take us to the town we were going to stay at. Mexico City was a place I knew only as one that we needed to get out of quickly, to be observed through the windows of the bus or car we were transported in.  It was a strange yet inviting place.  All sorts of crazy stuff going on;  clowns, beggars, couples making out, shady characters walking around, food vendors all over, stray dogs, prostitutes.  It wasn't until I was around seventeen that I went back to Mexico and stayed a while with my cousins that lived in Mexico City, in a neighborhood up on one of the hills, not too terribly far from "el centro" or the downtown area, I actually experienced the city.  At that age I was already partying quite a bit and so were the cousins I was staying with. Though I was always with my cousins, I got a taste of the Mexico City night life.  Bunch of dudes crammed into a car chugging caguamas (40s of Mexican beer), smoking cigarettes, cruising down streets whistling and hollering at girls, cruising Sullivan Street to stare at the prostis (the lines and lines of them), going to shady strip joints alongside Plaza Garibaldi. I was not old enough to truly appreciate what was going on in Mexico City, yet I was able to understand that the intoxicating air of freedom was accompanied by a persistent level of danger.   I thought to myself then that as an adult I'd welcome the opportunity to return and immerse myself in the city, to really get at what drove that feeling.  As an adult I've travelled quite a bit, going to many of the major cities of the world, but I’ve always put off going to Mexico City, mainly out of fear I suppose. I've even travelled Mexico quite a bit with one of my cousins.  We never spent much time in Mexico City, though, because he thought it was not a wise thing to do (he was from Cuernavaca, a much 'nicer' city on the other side of the mountains surrounding the capital). He opted for trips to Acapulco or Oaxaca which indeed were quite fun.  But still, I felt that I was missing something.  And now I'm older with a family living in Chicago.  Adventuring through the strange mega-city south of the border is something that's just not quite feasible anymore.

Well, what I wasn't able to do, journalist Daniel Hernandez did, and wrote about in his book Down and Delirious in Mexico City.  He's a chicano like me, of Mexican parents but who grew up in the U.S. (though he's from San Diego, much closer to the border than Chicago).  On a whim to explore his roots, Daniel decides to move down there and get immersed in the culture. He writes about the different ethnic tribes that exist there, the level of vibrancy, and yes the ever pervasive feeling of danger and his thoughts on why it exists.  I'm biased in reviewing this book as when I was reading I felt like I was reading something I would have loved to have done. He writes well, that's for sure, and it reads like a long essay, or different essays put together. I wish he would have delved a bit deeper into some of the issues he explores, the characters that he meets and some that he becomes friends with.  I wish it would have read more like a novel.  There's some fascinating scenes that I could see developed more.  It’s like, I understood what he was describing, but as a casual reader, it would have been great to go deeper into that veil of danger that hovers over the Mexican capital.  But perhaps this is for another project.

So I’d recommend this book for anyone curious about Mexico City and it’s subcultures, freedom, color, and violence; how it continues on, all these millions of people, a mash-up of Spanish, indigenous, and cultural elements, all struggling to form an identity in a city nestled in a huge valley, slowly sinking back into the lake that spawned it.