Mexico City is big, really big. With some 20 or so million inhabitants, an area of 3,000 sq. miles, and an elevation of 7,349 ft above sea level, your first impression of this city will be something along the lines of "What the F-?". Moving here is pretty daunting and most of the people I know who voluntarily chose to come here will tell you that the first few months they were here were either awful or amazing.
Awful, because, like moving to any new city, you're going to have to learn to make your way around town. Unfortunately, this city's streets are, pardon my French, a fucking mess. Numbers on buildings seem to have been put there just for decoration and (like in the case of my block) most of the times, they don't even pretend to follow a rational sequential order. I'd also go into the language barrier, but let's be honest, if you're moving to a country and you don't at least have a rudimentary understanding of the language, you have no business being there. That, and, well, almost EVERY single person in the service or retail industry at least knows some English or has an associate nearby who does. The whole 7,000 feet above sea level coupled with the pollution really does a number on some people, especially if you have asthma or if you're from a city that's at sea level, but if you're from Denver, you'll feel right at home.
Amazing because: You know people who already live here (you crafty buggers)
Now don't get me wrong, I love it here. But learning to love this city takes time, effort, and lots of booze. I first moved down here when I was 15, and let me tell you, this city was paradise. Whereas in the States I'd have to pick up a fake ID and go to crappy dive bars, here, with the right crowd, you could get into some of the nicest clubs and bars in the country. The nightlife in this city is nothing short of amazing now (except for all those pesky police checkpoints looking for potential D.U.I's, the only law they actually seem to enforce really...), but back in 1998 is was pure madness. It was like living in New York in the 80's, with just a slightly higher crime rate. But I guess the city has changed for the better since then, even if some of my friends hate to admit it (damn smoking and open bottle laws....), but don't let the surveillance cameras on the street corners and the constantly patrolling police cars fool you, the cops down here don't even give a 1/10th of a shit about their jobs compared to cops in the good ol' U.S. of A. Depending on what side of the law you usually find yourself on, that can either be a good thing or a bad thing.
Whatever you do, don't piss them off. There ain't no Miranda Rights down here.
Oh, yeah, by the way, Mexico's judicial system considers you guilty until proven innocent, so, if you get picked up for something serious, enjoy your stint in Mexican prison while awaiting trial (f.y.i, based on what I've heard from friends busted for D.U.I's, Mexican jail is really, really, really awful....).
So now that I've gotten some of the basics out of the way with this post, the next post can be something fun, like, I don't know, booze....
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