March 2026

Oh! She wants me to
love her the way she would love her
If she were me!

Epiphany by Kent Foreman

Years ago, Mark and I saw this haiku performed online in a poetry jam. I’ve remembered it because nods to the endless swirl of our reference pointing back to our own viewpoint and experiences, even with the people we love the most.

I’ve been trying to be here in Mexico, to not compare Mexico with other places or with the United States. And I’ve been trying to encourage the kids to do the same. Does the driving here have to be crazier than in the U.S.? Or can we just appreciate that we spend almost no time in the car here? Does the fruit have to be better than the fruit in the United States? Or can we just enjoy this dazzling mango?

But maybe comparing is unavoidable. Mark flew into Mexico City last week, and we decided to take the opportunity to spend a few days in the oldest capital city in the Americas, the largest city in North America, a hub of art and culture. . . I was excited. In retrospect, I was also totally underprepared.

So, anyway, I’m just going to go ahead and compare.

What we discovered is that Puebla is better than Mexico City. Here is why:

Puebla Makes Sense and Mexico City Does Not

To get to Mexico City, we bought bus tickets for under $20, traveled out past the skyscrapers and auto manufacturers into agricultural fields, up into forested mountains and down into a layer of concrete buildings tightly packed next to one another.

The kids and I arrived at the bus station in Mexico City, and the plan was to meet Mark at the apartment we were renting. Our first problem was that we couldn’t figure out how to get out of the bus station. The signs pointed us in all different directions. We got outside and found a road where we hoped to catch an Uber, but the road was blocked off by a fence. After walking along the fence for a while, we gave up and turned back to the station. I decided this was a good time for Carl’s Jr. It was right there inside the bus station, our first meal in this city of gastronomic renown. We watched the river of people walking by the Carl’s Jr window, and, after our meal, followed the largest stream of people until we eventually found a road and could get an Uber.

The trip to the apartment was under three miles, but it took us almost an hour to get there. Stalls selling stacks of stuffed animals, stacks of towels, electronics, clothes, and phone cases reached beyond the sidewalk into the street. Our driver weaved around the stalls and the people walking around them. When reaching an intersection of several streets, the driver gunned through a red light. I decided not to look.

In contrast, Puebla’s streets are laid out in a grid. There are usually no lines on the roads marking the traffic lanes, and speed bumps pop up out of nowhere. But the streets are all one way, and the cars predictably stop at red lights.

Puebla’s Zocalo is Nicer than Mexico City’s

We met Mark at the apartment and ventured out to see the Zocalo and get some dinner. Mexico City’s Zocalo is a large, empty plaza with a huge flag in the middle. While the edges of the Zocalo were packed with people, the large swath of the center was blocked off with temporary fences. We learned later that Shakira was coming to give a free concert, and the city was setting up. The number of police monitoring the area was astounding. I counted 35 police officers on one corner.

Puebla’s Zocalo is full of trees and fountains. Families walk and eat ice cream. Couples make out on benches. Cafes line the three edges not bordered by the cathedral and entertainers perform.

The Cathedrals Are Equally Amazing

There is a story, beloved in Puebla, that when the cathedrals of Mexico City and Puebla were being built, someone switched the plans so that the more majestic cathedral was built in Puebla. Intellectually, I don’t know how to feel about either cathedral, knowing they were built with slave labor and many people died in the process. But entering either building is awe inspiring. The spaces evoke the holy with their gracious spaces, stone carved by hand, paintings by skilled and imaginative artists, and woodwork carved with impeccable craftmanship. The cathedrals work to welcome tourists and maintain the work of a church. I loved that there was a priest available to bless children in the Mexico City cathedral. (My kids were like, no thanks.)

Puebla’s Museums are Better

This is not true. Mexico City has outstanding museums. We went to the Museo Nacional de Antropología. Not only do they have incredible artifacts like Aztec Sun Stone and giant Olmec stone heads that are thousands of years old, the exhibits are also thoughtfully laid out and engaging.

But Puebla’s has the oldest library in the Americas, the Museo Amparo and other excellent museums. 

Puebla’s Food is Better

Again, this may or may not be true because what my children really wanted, needed, in Mexico City was MacDonalds. I love to go out to eat in Puebla; moles (spicy, smokey, slightly sweet sauce), cemitas poblanas (a huge sandwich with chicken, avocado, chiles, Oaxacan cheese, and papalo – a spice that is somewhat reminiscent of cilantro but knocks your socks off a little more), tacos arabes (what Lebanese immigrants created when they came to Puebla in the 1930s and met the taco), all these foods in Puebla make you want to cry with delight. But nothing shines more than the enormous, juicy carrot that must have been in the ground a few hours ago, or the jicama dripping with sweetness, or bread coming right out of the oven.

If She Were Me

“Well, I have a new appreciation for Puebla,” Langston said as we boarded the bus back to Puebla. And this is what Mexico City did for us, made us realize that Puebla is our point of reference right now. We didn’t see Mexico City for itself, but we might be getting closer to loving Puebla the way she would love her if she were us.