ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, October 27, 1996 TAG: 9610300002
SECTION: TRAVEL PAGE: 6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: CHRISTINA WILLIAMS SPECIAL TO THE ROANOKE TIMES
The Spanish reverently called Xochimilco (pronounced soh-chee-MEEL-co) "Venice of the Americas," and yet they burned it to the ground when the local Aztecs fiercely opposed them, almost killing Cortez.
Today, exploring the "floating gardens" of Xochimilco, only 15 miles southeast of the center of Mexico City, is a must for the visitor eager to head off the beaten path. It also forms one of the favorite weekend excursions for the Mexicans, who rent colorful gondolas to cruise the canals while eating, drinking and listening to the strains of mariachi bands.
Xochimilco, meaning "place where flowers grow," was first settled about 1,000 years ago, and became part of the Aztec Empire, ruled from Tenochtitlan, the site of present-day Mexico City.
The Xochimilcas utilized an ingenious system of reclaiming the swamps which, at that time, covered much of the Valley of Mexico. They cut canals through the marshes, and between these they erected a framework of posts and wickerwork hurdles. In this they heaped sticks and aquatic plants, covered with silt from the bottom of the lake.
Some of these chinampas may have originally been mobile rafts, able to be towed from place to place, thus the name floating gardens.
The chinampas supplied the Aztecs with flowers, fresh vegetables and maize. The Xochimilcas used dugout canoes to take the produce along the canals leading directly into the market place in the heart of Tenochtitn.
Now, 120 miles of the ancient waterways are still navigable, although only about two miles are readily accessible for the visitor.
One Sunday, I took the Metro south to Tasquea, and then the light rail to the town of Xochimilco.
Embarcadero de Nativitas, the largest and most popular landing-stage on the canals, lies a short minibus or taxi ride from the light rail station.
I emerged from a green VW bug taxi at Nativitas amid a surge of activity.
An air of excitement hovers over a sea of primary-colored trajineras. These blazing yellow, red and sky blue, flat-bottomed gondolas line a half-mile stretch of quay, sometimes several deep, waiting for customers. An arch, adorned with a girl's name painted to look as if it is written in flowers, stands high above the front of each boat.
Families, clad in Sunday best, gesticulate as they make their choice of vessel - the only difference between them being the name. Will it be Carmelita, Giovanna, Rosita or Graciela?
Close to each hovers its gondolier, wildly enticing each group to choose his boat.
Prices for gondolas (30 New Pesos or about $4 an hour) and other services offered on the waterways are fixed by the government and posted. No bargaining is permitted.
In the center of the dock, an artisan's market, the size of a football field, is crammed with stalls mountainous with finely-embroidered cotton dresses, brightly colored blankets and woven masks. As I stroll the refreshment area, a variety of smells hangs in the air - freshly fried quesadillas stuffed with cheese and blue-corn sopes amid plates of frijoles and flaky green coriander. Pineapples, mangos and papayas are skillfully carved to look like flowers.
Three New Pesos ($0.40) buys a one-way trip on the canal from Nativitas to the next embarcadero in a colectivo, a 60-seater, double pole-powered barge.
The two gondoliers jump onto the wooden roof, shove their 20-foot poles against the wharf, and the cumbersome colectivo cautiously nudges out into the fleet of trajineras and vendors' punts already plying the waterway. I am immediately surrounded by a symphony of clashing marimba and mariachi music, laughter and a lively hum of Spanish.
In the trajineras, moms, dads, grandparents and numerous kids, appear to be thoroughly enjoying themselves. White paper streamers, in the shape of flowers and hearts, strung around the deck, indicate a special celebration. Picnic hampers and coolers are open and the contents spread out on the tables. Children lie on the flat sterns trailing hands in the bottle-green water.
Shortly, the scent of carnations and ripening corn wafts from the left and I begin to see the famous chinampas or floating gardens. Fertile, green fields, striped with carefully tended crops, border the canal. Farmers cheerfully move along the rows, weeding or picking flowers.
Opulent, modern homes, decorate the right bank. Tied to each private dock bobs a skiff, ready to take children to school or produce to the market. To both sides, tiny waterways disappear into the distance. Floating hyacinths, brush against the boat.
From time to time, a barge full of hay or vegetables poles by or, a family, returning from shopping, steps out at a their own landing-stage.
Suddenly, a punt zips alongside the colectivo with Men Turistico painted on the side. A pigtailed, Indian lady prepares tortillas on a minute, charcoal stove. Next to her, a glass-covered case displays a variety of fillings. Money exchanges hands as heaping plates of soft-shelled tacos, stuffed with meat and guacamole, are passed over the railing.
Cerveza? Coca-cola? A young man selects bottled drinks from a large bucket full of ice, and passes them into waiting hands, while keeping his vessel balanced by the colectivo.
Then, a barge with mariachi musicians, apparently attached to a trajinera, floats past, playing Las Mananitas, the Mexican birthday song.
Occasionally, a couple occupies a gondola, pretending to be alone.
As we glide along, the barrage of mobile vendors increases. A lady enveloped by a massive straw hat offers corn on the cob, straight off the barbecue. Boats, laden with handmade Indian blankets and wide-brimmed Mexican hats, weave in and out among the day trippers. Marimba bands serenade anyone willing to pay the 10 New Pesos ($1.50) per melody.
I realize that, for the Mexicans, a trip to the floating gardens is more of an excuse to party and to socialize with family and friends than a jaunt to actually see anything.
Time goes by, and the tempo on the waterways gradually increases. Trajineras become so thick that, with every push of the poles, we lurch into the boat directly ahead of us. Faces become more and more animated, and laughter and conversation gradually reach a crescendo.
Finally, the canal passes through a jumble of buildings and we turn abruptly into a pocket-sized dock fairly close to the downtown area. Here, everyone disembarks, and I flag down a VW bug to taxi me over to the central plaza.
El Centro of Xochimilco possesses plenty of colonial charm and a handful of monuments.
I enter the 16th-century Franciscan Church of San Bernardino and am overawed at the nine, impossibly beautiful, baroque altars backed by intricately gilded canopies.
I jostle through the market, and visit the tiny, but fascinating, Chapel of el Rosario, decorated outside with Moorish-style yellow, blue and white Puebla tiles.
As afternoon turns into evening, I reluctantly join the crowds on the light rail heading back into Mexico City.
LENGTH: Long : 123 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: CHRISTINA WILLIAMS. Gondolas waiting for customers lineby CNBa half-mile stretch of quay at Embarcadero de Nativitas. color.