Tuesday with Marthe

When I started Latin Dancing here in Mexico City, one woman took me under her wing. She has that air of authority that some people just seem to come by naturally. She is at the head of the table when we share coffee and sweet rolls after dance class.  Her name is Marthe.  Marthe looks pretty at every single class.  Her hair is always done, her makeup flawless, and her jewelry always matches her outfit.

Last Monday after class, she asked me to have breakfast at her house the next day.  I was very honored to be invited to her home.   I hurried out that afternoon and bought a pair of nice pants, new shoes, and a bouquet of flowers as a hostess gift.  I figured that I would be home, doing laundry or some other chore, by noon.

The next day, Marthe picked me up in her SUV.  Now, I can still barely speak Spanish and Marthe never had much opportunity to speak English.  Therefore, our conversations have a cartoon quality about them.  She asks me about my street, I answer by telling her about my elementary school.  I ask her about her parents, she tells me her favorite store.

So, I had no idea where we were headed Tuesday morning.  We were stuck in traffic for miles.  She drove with expertise and confidence while talking on her cell phone and pointing out sights to me.   She said her home was in Condesa, but when we passed San Angel, I knew we were heading in the wrong direction.  Finally, we arrived at a gate...and I could have sworn the name of the place was the "Naval Club".  I thought...maybe her husband is a retired naval officer?  Maybe they have a second home here within the "club"?  But we were clearly at a club restaurant and, as another surprise, Marthe's friend, Graciella, was meeting us.  Graciella was warm, funny and friendly, but her English was no better than Marthe's.   And my Spanish had not improved during the long car ride.

After breakfast, I explained that I could get home by the Metro.  Well, Marthe and Graciella just loved that one!  It seemed that our day was just beginning.  Marthe wanted to show me some of the Mexico City that is not reachable by metro and pesero.  Off we went...to Bosque de Las Lomas, where Graciella lives.  The houses are enormous and absolutely beautiful.  I was reminded of Beverly Hills.  We then had to visit one of Marthe and Graciella's friends in a high rise apartment building.  Then, after dropping Graciella off, Martha asked if I had ever seen Santa Fe, where the young and wealthy of Mexico City work and live.  I hadn't, and I guess you know where we went next.  The buildings in Santa Fe are brand new, very high, and very modern.  This part of Mexico City is completely different from any other part.  Marthe knew every street and pointed out landmarks while negotiating horrendous traffic jams.

We had now been out for hours.  She wasn't tired, but I was.  She turned into a parking lot and I thought...finally...we are at her house.  But we weren't, of course.  We were at her tennis and swimming club!  I had a tour and Marthe spoke to some gentlemen who appeared to be the managers.   I just needed to rest...but there were more neighborhoods to see.  Finally, I could tell we were coming down from the hills of Santa Fe and getting back to areas I recognized.  I offered, again, to just be dropped at a metro station, but suddenly, Marthe hit a button that opened a garage door and in we drove.  Her garage had a crystal chandelier in it!

I staggered into Marthe's lovely home where the dining room table was set and food was waiting for us.  I had some delicious soup, friend plantains, and rice.  Marthe's husband, whose English is flawless, came downstairs to meet me.  By now, though, I could barely even speak my own language.

As Marthe took a call from yet another friend on her cell phone, her husband told me that the only thing Marthe loved more than finding and nurturing new friends was showing off her beloved Mexico City.   When I got home, sometime after six o'clock, I realized that my "breakfast date" had lasted eight hours!  I had seen much more of Mexico in one day with Marthe than I would have in weeks on my own.

The next time you picture a "Mexican woman" please picture Marthe, a retired kindergarten teacher, wife, mother, grandmother, dancer...and a woman I am proud to call "my friend".