Sergio in English -- por fin

One of the first posts I published on this blog was about my dear friend, the noted author Sergio González Rodríguez, whose books have been translated into various languages -- but not English. Until now.

For its Interventions series, the publisher Semiotexte commissioned an original book by Sergio called Femicide Machine. It is a chilling little work about how in Ciudad Juárez murder, mayhem and lawlessness became the norm, thanks to a government that -- implicitly and explicitly -- either looked the other way or even sanctioned such activity. It is a cold-eyed analysis of the sociopolitical and economic conditions that produce the specific brand of horror that is contemporary Juárez, a city that has distinguished itself as the homicide capital of the world.

His books have been published in Spanish, French, German and Italian. It's about time that one of them became available in English -- even better, in an excellent translation by another amigo, Michael Parker-Stainback.

For friends in New York: On March 31, at 6 pm, Sergio will be speaking at Artists Space at 38 Greene Street, 3rd floor, in SoHo, as part of a symposium called The City Machine and Its Streets: Anomalous Ecologies. On April 2 at 6:30 pm, he'll be at the Center for the Humanities at CUNY, 365 Fifth Avenue. This particular event takes place in the Skylight Room (9100), which sounds like a cocktail lounge -- which, as Sergio's friends know, would be an eminently appropriate venue.

Cupcakerías

Fifteen or twenty years ago, when bottled water became all the rage in the U.S., comedian George Carlin did a routine about it and asked the audience, "When did we all get so thirsty?" Looking around the streets of fashionable neighborhoods in Mexico City I similarly ask myself, "When did everybody get so desperate for cupcakes?" Pictured above is the first cupcake culprit, in the Colonia Condesa. When it opened, it was advertised as having an owner (or perhaps a baker) called Tom, who I assume was a gringo. Soon spawn appeared.

And appeared.

And appeared.

Even a luncheonette chain called Bisquets, whose specialty is traditional Mexican sweet rolls, is getting into the act.

I asked friends about the phenomenon and they told me that we have to thank the TV program Sex and the City for all this. Having lived without a television for much of my life, I had never seen the protagonists of that show frequenting the Magnolia Bakery in New York for their cupcake fixes. Apparently similar "cupcakerías" opened across the U.S., before snaking their way across the southern border.

Commenting on the craze, a woman from the U.S. who lives in Mexico rolled her eyes and said, "Cupcakes are so 2009."

All aboard

I took this flight not long ago between Houston and Mexico City. For a moment there, I thought I might end up in the Chekck Republic.

Gentrification?

The Colonia Tabacalera, near the centro histórico, has been down at the heels for a long time. This is a situation that might change, sooner or later. In 2010, for the bicentennial of Mexico's revolution, Mayor Marcelo Ebrard renovated the neighborhood's centerpiece, the Monumento a la Revolución and its surrounding plaza. The monument is a crypt for some of Mexico's revolutionary heroes, whose exploits are outlined in a museum in the building's basement. You can take an elevator and stairs to the top and get a view of the surrounding area. Or just stroll around -- on weekends families make the plaza their playground, and once in a while there is a free concert in the open air.

Still, the rest of the neighborhood has some catching up to do. The Frontón México, where jai alai had been played since the 1930s, has been closed since 1992.

I sometimes fantasize about buying a building here and renting the apartments to my friends, which in practical terms is probably a recipe for disaster. The neighborhood is home to many short-time hotels with a deliciously seedy appearance. Still, I noticed that since the plaza was spruced up, some of these places, like the Royalty here, sprang for a new coat of paint on their facades.

Will any of them reemerge as the next hip boutique hotel?

While we are waiting for Philippe Starck, my friend Fabiola opened the Hostel Suites D.F. on calle Jesus Terán #38, a cute place with about 18 rooms, including dorms, family rooms and private rooms. Like most hostels, it's basic, but a cheerful place, and it's hard to beat the prices -- between 180 and 500 pesos, internet and breakfast included.