Buenos Días Comrades
The taxi dropped us off at the bus station in Coyoacán right when the tour guide texted he couldn’t make it. Disoriented, Sean and I wandered about, looking for a place to get our bearings and somehow stumbled into Jardin Centenario Park.
Inside the cool park, spired cedars reached toward the blue sky. A yoga class had just ended, and people with mats strolled the trails, passing the pollinator garden bursting with native flowers. Bees hummed around the unruly blossoms, collecting nectar.
Sean has this preternatural gift of knowing exactly where to go, even in unknown places, and soon, he had us walking down cobbled streets in a lovely bohemian neighborhood. We passed Frida Kahlo’s house (tickets were sold out—for months!) and washed up into an elegant café.
La Pause Café has an old-world feel. Diffused natural light sifts in from overhead, sunning the marigolds in terra cotta pots that adorn the tables and walls.
A fellow sitting next to us had a Casablanca tattoo — Bogie and Bacall — and I knew we were definitely in the right place. We drank fine hot coffee and ate traditional egg dishes served by a distinguished gentleman.
After lunch, we searched for the Leon Trotsky Museum. Now is a good time to shout out technology, as the trip was much easier with maps and language translators. Still, even with the maps, finding the entrance to the Trotsky Museum was a bit murky.
But it was apparent we were on the right path when a gentleman on the street said, “Buenos días, comrades.”
Full disclosure: I didn’t know who Leon Trotsky was until that day. However, I soon learned quite a bit about him, starting with his exile from the Soviet Union for opposing Joseph Stalin.
After his exile, Trotsky fled around the globe and eventually sought asylum in Coyoacán, Mexico. Although he survived a machine gun attack (the bullet holes are still in the walls), he was assassinated months later by Ramón Mercader with an ice pick.
It is generally believed that Stalin ordered the murder.
Although Trotsky was constantly on guard, he lived a rich, full life in Mexico. He wrote tirelessly, and Frida Kahlo and her husband, Diego Rivera, were ardent supporters of his work. Rivera was the one who convinced Mexican President Lázaro Cárdenas to offer Trotsky political asylum.
And so it goes with passionate people, Kahlo and Trotsky had a brief, steamy affair. They secretly met at Kahlo’s sister’s house, and Trotsky slipped love notes into books he lent her. [1]
It ended amicably, and Kahlo gifted him a sensual self-portrait.
Now, the estate hosts a small museum featuring historic photos, writings, pamphlets, and a self-tour of his final home. Its furnishings are spartan, neat and colorful, with his books and typewriter still on display. Trotsky and his wife’s remains are in the garden, entombed under a bold monument brandished with the hammer and sickle.
On this day, people lounged in the pleasant courtyard, reading, talking, drinking tea. One can imagine Trotsky and his friends and colleagues gathering for a gentle evening, soothed by potent liquor and thoughtful conversation.
Maybe the cheerful sound of music drifted over the wall.
SOURCES
[1] https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-frida-kahlos-love-affair-communist-revolutionary-impacted-art
