Mexico City's metro is world class. It moves more than 4.5 million people every day quickly and with limited noise and bustle. Total metro stations, both of the subway and elevated kind, now number over 200, with several new lines built in the last couple of years, and one strategic line connecting previously isolated part of the city just opened several months ago. It is better than Chicago, and faster than D.C., two other metro lines I'm that I'm familiar with. And is it incomparably more economical. You can ride all day, through unlimited transfer stops, for 3 pesos. That's about 25 cents.
But, alas, it does have it's drawbacks! Life is good if you ride the metro between 10
a.m. and 5 p.m., but should your obligations require you to travel during
"rush hours," well, let's just say that you're in for an experience
worth far more than the price of a one-way ticket!
I met a good friend of my, Juan Piza, at 4 p.m. at one of Mexico City's biggest Christian bookstores, Vision, and we talked about the ins and outs of forming a Mexican non-profit, called an asociación civil. Later, Jorge joined us, an accountant from the church who is helping us with the paperwork process. I was in good spirits for the meeting, having avoided a nearby BurgerKing (what was I thinking?) in deference to a tiny taco restaurant barely bigger than a walk-in closet, but with tasty suadero and tripa tacos (see pic below). Mmmm.
The meeting went very well. At around 6:30 p.m. I said goodbye to Juan and Jorge and began my journey home, boarding the blue line at Allende, and riding it two stops to Piño Suarez. That's where the fun began.
Piño Suarez is a transfer stop connecting to the pink line, that runs right through the heart of the city. In the space of 7 stops (from Balderas to San Lázaro), the pink line intersects with 5 other major north/south routes. The amount of human traffic in these metro stops is incredibly dense.
I boarded the train in the underground station at Piño
Suárez going east towards Blvd. Puerto Aereo, but not right away by any
means. After meandering through the
transfer tunnels, I found myself with probably another 200 people waiting
behind a large, metal gate. A friendly
policeman was manning the gate. After
several minutes, he opened the gate, and the whole group of us made our way to
the subway station platform. As we
neared the train area, more policemen separated the sheep from the goats, or in
this case the men from the women, and we filed down what reminded me of cattle
stalls, but were really thick, wooden dividers.
Normally the women are designated three cars at the very front
of the subway train, but during rush hour, the train is nearly equally divided
between the sexes. I picked a spot with
the mass of men, and waited. I didn't
get on the first train, but was swept up into the second. I had learned previously that you don't want
to be standing too close to the door (or too far away either!), so I picked a
space near the edge of the door entrance and the seats, and hung on.
But I didn't really have to hang on at all. We were packed in so tightly, that I couldn't
have moved if I had wanted to. And oh,
the smells! Day-old deodorant and sweat,
the musty air from the overhead vents, and an occasional waft of fresh air from
a passing station.
I remembered a lesson I had previously learned watching one unfortunate rider, as he was repeatedly swept in and out of the car, caught up between those wanting out, and those wanting in. At the Candelaria stop, four people managed to exit our packed car, but somehow 9 more crammed their way in! I was beginning to wonder if during lurch in the train, I might crack a rib!
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