It is Friday evening, and Natalie takes me to meet her friends Claudio and Fabrina, who are going to take us to see a modern dance performance. I’m not a big fan of dance to begin with, and definitely not a fan of modern dance, but it’s an evening out.
We take a taxi to Fabrina’s office in a flat in La Condessa. It starts to pour, and we arrive before they do. Someone else from the theater company lets us in, and we wait for the others to arrive. Natalie has told me about their plays–they’re modern and rather odd, and she has also told me that Claudio has a habit of appearing naked on stage in them (and told me enthusiastically that he has a body that looks rather nice on stage naked), so I am prepared to hate him on sight.
When they arrive, however, they’re quite gracious and warm. Fabrina, who is black, from Guadeloupe, grew up in France, and has lived in Mexico for seven years, is understated elegant. Claudio has that sort of personality that only straight boys ever seem to have–one of those personalities where he is instantly likable to anyone and everyone. He could later turn out to be a massive jerk, and you’d still like him.
We set off for UNAM, where the performance will be. It’s Friday night in Mexico City and it’s raining, which means that traffic is snarled, even on the dual level periferico expressway that circles the city. Fabrina grows increasingly nervous as 8:30 — curtain — grows closer and we are stuck not moving on the flyover level of the expressway. As we inch forward, I try to figure out what the relationship between the two is. Natalie has told me that she’s not sure either. After this evening, we decide that the two are former lovers. They’re clearly comfortable with each other, but there are no signs of affection. Everyone else in Mexico City seems to have no problem making out in public, and since these two don’t, it seems to be an indication.
Finally traffic clears enough for us to exit at Ciudad Universitaria and Claudio finds a parking space almost directly in front of the performance hall. We take our seats just as the lights dim.
The performance … was awful. We all agreed on this. One of the reasons that I don’t care for modern dance is that it frequently involves “deconstruction,” and I am not familiar enough with the construction to appreciate it being undone. In this case, there are four dancers and for the entire performance (which mercifully lasts only about forty-five minutes) no two are doing the same thing. As someone put it later, “They vastly overestimated how interesting this was to watch.” For me the highlight of the performance comes when Natalie elbows me to point out that Claudio has fallen asleep.
After the performance we go to dinner. Dinner is late in Mexico, and we’re expecting not to eat before 10, but Fabrina is hungry and we’re both happy that one of the locals is pushing for an early dinner. Apparently she’s not alone–the first place we go is full and invites us to wait at least an hour for a table.
We end up at a taco place in Col. Insurgentes that’s still hopping at 11 pm. The tacos are freshly made, the salsas are chopped up in front of the house, and the amount of business the place does is staggaring. We chat about random things–politics, the weather, the need for massive bribes to accomplish anything in Egypt, the awfulness of the dance performance we’ve just witnessed–and all in all, it’s a lovely evening.
