Our morning began at the National Museum of Anthropology with our guide, Alicia, who managed to make centuries of history feel more like a fascinating conversation than a lecture. The museum itself is worth visiting even before you look at a single artifact. It’s mostly indoors, but many of the galleries are open-air around courtyards. The famous umbrella fountain in the center appears to pour water from a massive concrete canopy, creating one of those “wait, how is that working?” moments that every visitor photographs.
Alicia explained that long before the Aztecs, many cultures flourished across what is now Mexico. One of the most influential was Teotihuacan, the city responsible for the enormous ceremonial structures that tourists often call pyramids. (Hint: they aren’t actually pyramids. they’re temples!) Depending on which interpretation you’re discussing, one structure is associated with the Goddess of Life and fertility, while another — the Temple of the Sun — is linked to ritual sacrifice. What surprised us most was learning that sacrifice was often considered an honor. In that worldview, being chosen meant serving the gods in the most significant way possible.
We also learned about the ancient Mesoamerican ball game played with leather balls weighing roughly 8–10 pounds. Players couldn’t let the ball touch the ground and used their hips and shoulders to keep it moving. What made this especially interesting was that Mark and Owen had seen a version of the game in Guatemala near Lake Atitlán just a few months earlier. The cultural connections across Mesoamerica suddenly felt very real.
And then Alicia delivered the plot twist: in some ceremonial versions of the game, the winning team could be sacrificed. Apparently, victory came with a rather aggressive bonus package. The game ended when a player managed to send the ball through a carved stone ring mounted high on the wall. Considering the weight of the ball and the fact that hands weren’t allowed, that sounds almost impossible.
Alicia also clarified that the people we commonly call the Aztecs referred to themselves as the Mexica (pronounced meh-SHE-ka). We learned about Moctezuma II, the arrival of Hernán Cortés, and the eventual fall of the Mexica empire.
One of the most memorable artifacts was a massive stone carving representing Earth or Mother Earth. The accompanying mythology sounded like something from an epic fantasy novel: a daughter plots against her mother, a son intervenes, the daughter is defeated and her severed head becomes the moon, while the son becomes the sun.
We finished the museum tour outdoors among large-scale replicas and reconstructed monuments. Walking through them felt less like a museum and more like stepping onto an Indiana Jones movie set. If someone had handed me a fedora and a questionable map, I would have been fully prepared for a treasure hunt.
In the afternoon we grabbed a DiDi to the northern part of the city. The 40-minute ride through heavy traffic felt remarkably similar to driving through Seoul. Grey stone curbs, roads diving under other roads, motorcycles buzzing around cars like flies at a summer picnic, and vendors appearing at intersections selling everything from flowers to bagged chips to windshield washes.
At the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe we learned the story of Juan Diego. According to tradition, he encountered the Virgin Mary on a hill in 1531. When local clergy demanded proof of his vision, he returned to the hill and found roses blooming in December, already unusual. He gathered them in his cloak, but when he opened it before the priest, the flowers fell out and the image of the Virgin appeared on the fabric itself. The original church on the hillside still stands, though it now leans noticeably forward. As crowds grew over the centuries, a much larger basilica was built below. The famous image is displayed behind the altar, and visitors pass beneath it on moving walkways so everyone can have a chance to see it.
One detail that struck us was the clothing of many pilgrim families. Men, women, and children were dressed in their finest western wear—white cowboy hats, Wrangler shirts, embroidered boots, and even a few pairs of chaps. It wasn’t a costume; it was their best attire for a meaningful pilgrimage.
Another DiDi ride brought us to the Zócalo, the enormous main square surrounded by the National Palace and the Metropolitan Cathedral. From there we wandered through pedestrian shopping streets and visited the famous Gran Hotel Ciudad de México, known for its Tiffany stained-glass dome and original glass elevators. Unfortunately we arrived after dark, so the dome wasn’t illuminated, but you could still imagine how spectacular it must look during the day. We continued up toward the Palacio de Bellas Artes and eventually found a taco spot along the main boulevard for dinner.
And then, after a full day immersed in Mexican history, religion, architecture, and tacos, we finally found ourselves back in Roma Norte eating Korean food. Owen ordered ramen, Kaia had bibimbap, and the rest of us shared bulgogi and kimbap. The restaurant sat on another lively pedestrian street that made us want to linger, but our 7:00 a.m. pickup for the next day’s Teotihuacan tour was waiting.
So we did the responsible thing: headed back to the apartment for some much-needed sleep.
If there’s one thing this day taught us, it’s that Mexico City refuses to fit into a single category. In the span of twelve hours we explored ancient Mexica history, learned about one of the world’s most famous religious miracles, navigated traffic that could rival any major Asian city, admired colonial architecture, ate tacos, and ended with Korean comfort food.
That’s Mexico City in a nutshell: ancient and modern, sacred and chaotic, educational and delicious—all at the same time. And honestly, that’s exactly why we loved it!