Oso moved out to DF last month just in time to see us leave. It’s natural to wonder what Mexico City would have been like with my fiancee and a really good friend living in the city. It took a visit from David to enlighten my coffee ordering. Before him, it was puro americanos. After, cortaditos from Cafe Guardatiempo – a dingy cafe with no wifi about five minutes from my place – were the norm. It’s the type of experience that will be difficult to replicate in Los Angeles.

David came out after a long flight from DC to wish us well and take the remainder of our belongings. Even after a sleep-depriving trip, he was able to muster enough energy for a proper farewell.

Anna ran the office from our living room and started with five permanent employees when she first started her job in Mexico City. Two years later, the office she built is bustling with over 100 local employees. Above, a few of her chamba-mates come out to salute her one last time.

The green VW beetle. Once a constant around the streets of Mexico City, the vehicles are sparse now, headed for extinction in 2012. The notorious green beetles, or “el vocho”, were transformed into maroon/gold in 2009 and are now sprinkled randomly throughout the city. Above, a green bug in Roma.

The most fascinated illustrations at the Mexico City Museum involve the canals and waterways once dominant in Mexico City. How this city became the second most populated in the world – on a base considered mush – is still something that boggles my mind. None of this is forgotten in the hundreds of sketches and paintings outlining the flourishing of urbanism and the receding of Mexico City’s canals. Above, a portrait of a plaza with canals to the right. Now imagine the collages, video portraits, and audio slideshows that will provide history lessons for Chilangos in the next century. The talk will surely revolve around the non-existence of water.

There is still lots to pack. If we could, we’d take this apartment with us to Los Angeles.

Last weekend in Mexico City/Dreaming of Los Angeles.

By normal standards of street beauty, Juan de la Barrera would be considered extraordinary. Arching branches cover the sidewalks overhead with intense green foliage. The houses are weathered with character. Its birds can be heard chirping because silence isn’t unordinary. It feels like a neighborhood in a giant city.

Five minutes into my stroll and I came across an open lot. A wooden fence kept curious eyes away from whatever was being unearthed. But above the mangled concrete, the piles of dirt and the trash was an assortment of colors, text, swirls, and images. The neighborhood artists had found a giant canvas to play on. And what I am positive is an eyesore for some, is comfort and familiarity for me.

We were on our way to pick up moving boxes and I spotted them. A young man enjoying the few hours before the 5:30pm rains with his lady friend. She never moved, but he turned to look at me the moment I took the first photograph. This is when I feel the most exhilaration from this project. Immediately I feel vulnerable, shaky, rushed and overwhelmingly nervous. My instincts tell me to stop photographing, leave, get the hell out and don’t look back. It’s like being on the edge of a cliff and hoping you won’t look down. I motioned a thumbs up to the kid, but no response was returned. That’s when I realized he should be the nervous one. After all, I’m the stranger with a lens pointed at him.

In terms of style and ambiance, there better be some room for what we want.

It’s almost time to leave, so I’m walking around photographing possible artwork for our new place. I’m thinking the El Ángel would look great in my future office.