Letter to my wife

Darling,

I think that your unshakeable belief in the goodness of humankind is what keeps you safe and happy. It is my melancholic distrust in Humanity that sometimes makes me so unhappy.

Today I walked 10 kilometers going to the bank, going to the INAPAM office to get my Older Persons discount card issued so I could claim some small benefits and discounts, and finally I went to the Social Security Hospital to inquire about getting a duplicate of my all important Social Security card, which I lost three days ago.

I found getting a duplicate such a hassle that I gave up and walked home deciding that I would try again when I was less tired. On the way back I again looked down at the streets and walkways, retracing my route in the hope that I might find my SS card on the pavement somewhere. But, nothing doing! I would see a paper or piece of white cardboard and I would rush to pick it up only to find that it was just trash. People looked at me as if I was demented.

But, as I was coming into our apartment building, the neighbor who lives on the first floor, and who has a disabled wife, whom I have helped several times with the heavy iron gate that we have to open to leave or come in the building, came out when he heard me opening the gate. In his hand was MY SOCIAL SECURITY CARD!!!!

He said that an older man had found it in Mazatlán Avenue, which is the way I had taken when I dropped it. According to the neighbor, the poor man had been ringing our apartment for an hour but, of course, no one was home because I was away giving a conference at the University and my daughter and son in law were at work. The man finally rang the neighbor and gave him my card. He would not leave his name nor would he accept a reward, my neighbor said.The man just said he had to go because HIS DAUGHTER WAS EXPECTING HIM FOR LUNCH! I wonder if he was not my doppelgänger. 

Well, you were right and I was wrong. You said you had faith that someone would return it and I didn’t. Perhaps it was your faith that wrought the miracle.

To paraphrase Dickens, Mexico City can be the best of places and it can be the worst of places. It can have the worst of humanity and the best of humanity. It can be dirty, smoggy, noisy, and hot, and then you can turn the corner and walk down a couple of blocks of beautiful old houses lining a peaceful, cool, tree covered street.

It would seem the people of this city don’t care for it, from the way they leave trash in the streets, violate zoning laws, and clog up the sidewalks with stalls that sell everything from greasy tacos to pirated software of the most sophisticated kind. 

It is true that the city and its people don't take care of its architectural, cultural, or physical patrimony. One sees a beautiful Nineteenth Century house turned into a burger or taco joint, or an Art Deco gem of a building smog stained and squeezed between a convenience store and a sex toys shop. But then, you will see a bride, in her beautiful wedding dress, having her picture taken in front of the Fountain of the Cibeles, proud as she can be of one of the most beautiful features of the city (even if it is just a copy of the one in Madrid.)

Hence, walking about the city as I did today can have shatter your faith in it and its people by what you see as you walk. But, then, having a valuable identity card returned by a good samaritan can restore your lost faith in the fundamental  goodness of most of its people.