Historical & Hip: Mai Tai Tomás Travels To México City
Chapter Six – “Russian” To See Coyoacán’s Museums & Music To My Ears
Day Six – Hot To Trotsky, Axe To Grind, It’s Only A Drill, Feeling Blue With Frida, Strolling Through The Mercado, Where’s The Entrance?, Seafood Heaven, Magical Mango Margarita Meets Tuna Tower, I Can’t “Handle” The Truth, Even St. Michael Was Embarrassed and Mariachi Music at One Of Mexico City’s Oldest Restaurants
Upon awakening, we again read the note that the hotel had slipped under the door the previous evening about Mexico City’s seismic drill later that morning.
Luckily, the Leon Trotsky House & Museum was only about a three-block walk from Casa Azul, and we arrived shortly after it opened at 10 a.m. A massive critic of the Stalin regime, Trotsky finally landed in Mexico City in 1937 (with many stops along the way) after his 1929 expulsion from the Soviet Union. He was helped in his relocation efforts by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. Trotsky and wife, Natalie Sedova, lived with Rivera and Kahlo at Casa Azul for a couple of years.
They moved to this house after a falling out with Rivera (one reason being Trotsky had a fling with Frida). Photo from Wiki Commons.
Entering Museo Casa de Leon Trotsky ($40 MEX … a little more than 2 bucks), there is a room chronicling Trotsky’s life throughout the years and also hypothesizing what might have been if Trotsky had won his power struggle with Stalin.
There were numerous photos and newspaper clippings. This photo shows him with a book about The Moscow Trials. The trials held in 1936-1937 were part of Stalin’s “bloody purge against the bolshevik Old Guard.” It accused Trotsky and his son of “serious counterrevolutionary crimes.” Nearly every Trotskyist remaining in the Soviet Union was rounded up and executed from 1936-1938. They also condemned the exiled Trotsky and basically anyone related to him to be killed.
After reading about Trotsky’s life (and death), we walked through the gardens.
Inside the Guards Quarters we saw the route he and Natalie took in exile looking for a place to live. They ventured to Turkey, Norway, France and other European countries before eventually ending up in Mexico City. Frida Kahlo greeted them upon arrival.
We visited the dining room of his spartan house. In 1982, this entire complex was designated a historic monument.
La Cocina was left as it was in the late 1930s.
Three months before Trotsky was assassinated, there was another attempt on his life. In May of 1940, 20 gunman infiltrated the property and sprayed the house with bullets. Many believe that muralist David Siqueiros was somehow involved, as he did not share fellow muralist Rivera’s viewpoints regarding Stalin. Somehow I missed the bullet holes that still remain, but fortunately The Taipei Times photographer did not.
Figuring the next attack would be a bomb, the house was fortified and watchtowers were added. It didn’t help.
Nearly three months later, Trotsky was in the yard feeding his pet rabbits and chickens when the boyfriend of one of Trotsky’s confidantes was allowed inside the compound. Trotsky and his soon-to-be assassin (carrying a pickaxe with a shortened handle under his raincoat) went to Trotsky’s study. There, the assassin pulled out the weapon and “buried its sharp tip into Trotsky’s skull.”
Although doctors thought he might survive, Trotsky died the following day. His assassin served 20 years for the crime in Havana, and then returned to the Soviet Union and received a “hero’s welcome,” even receiving a medal for killing Trotsky. The room, with all its books, looks the same today as the day he was murdered.
The bed that he rested on during the day is also in the study.
We viewed other rooms such as the bathroom and the office where Trotsky’s secretaries worked.
Back in the garden among tropical flowers, including rare cacti that Trotsky collected, we saw the tomb containing the ashes of Trotsky and Natalie, who penned a biography of Trotsky before her death in 1962. A Hammer & Sickle on the tomb complete with the Soviet flag flying overhead. This is well worth a stop when in Mexico City. We spent about 40 minutes here.
On the short walk back to Casa Azul, we paused for a moment at a very colorful shop.
Next trip we really need to go on a mural tour.
We were back at Casa Azul shortly before our timed entry and many in that time slot were already queuing. It’s certainly not hard to figure out how they came up with the name for her house.
Nearing the 11 a.m. time slot, the 11:15 grouping started to form a line, as well. As a dog laid in the shade protecting itself from the heat, the peaceful quiet of this Wednesday morning was suddenly pierced by wailing sirens. The earthquake drill had begun. I guess only the dog (who started barking) had not been advised of the impending drill. It’s something we should consider in California, but someone would probably sue due to the noise. We have a video, but don’t want those who read this to lose their hearing.
While waiting in line for entry to the museum, Tracy purchased two alebrijes from a street vendor. Hand-carved and brightly painted, one was a hummingbird and the other a dog which reminded her of our late corgi, Frankie.
She was worried about getting them home in one piece but the woman showed her how the wings could be removed for packing and then wrapped them in bubble wrap for travel. So what are alebrijes? Tracy and I only knew them from the Disney movie, Coco, but have since learned that they are Mexican spirit animals invented in 1936 by a Mexican papier-mâché artist, Pedro Linares. The alebrijes were made popular by Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo who commissioned him to create alebrijes for them, some of which we saw in the museum. Senor Linares created the fanciful animals after a strange dream he had. Tracy is now obsessed with these whimsical creatures and wants to travel to Oaxaca, home of the artisans who carve and paint these magical animals. Since I have read Oaxaca also has fabulous food, I’m in!
We entered Frieda’s courtyard, resplendent in blue. Frida did not have an easy life. She contracted polio as a six-year-old making one leg shorter than the other. Then at 18, she was traveling on a bus that was hit by a tram, which would confine her to bed for three months and caused pain throughout her short life.
We entered the house she shared with Diego Rivera while they were married and looked at her paintings. Mi familia (Inconcluso) is on the left, while on the right is Viva la Vida, the final painting she would sign. She inscribed the words only eight days before her death.
