Afterwards, outside of the museum, some highschool students asked to interview us in English for a school project. This is nothing new; it had happened to me three times prior. Young'uns zone in on the estadounidenses (Americans) from a mile (er, a kilometer or two) away. The American (me) spots them spotting me and sighs, because the inevitable is about to happen; the American (me) will be videotaped while awkwardly answering their awkward questions, basic English-style. Usually, it's something like, "Where are you from? And what kind of music do you like?" However, in front of Bellas Artes, Brian was asked an arcane, almost rhetorical, question about static (like in the physics-y science sense). Phew, glad I didn't have to try to answer that one.
Well, back to Bellas Artes. Brian had been to D.F. last year and suggested that we get a coffee on the 9th floor of Sears. In my head I'm thinking, "Whew! Sears! Fun? Really, Brian? Wait, did he say coffee?! Yay for Sears!"
Sears is one of the big department stores here. In general, they seem a little nicer than those in the U.S., and it seems that people buy more than just power tools and tires there.
In sum, the cafe was so cool. All of the seating was open-air, and the balcony afforded awesome views of the city. We arrived at dusk. Here's a sequence of pictures of Bellas Artes taken from the balcony of Sears.
hey. its me.. we should talk.
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