I ventured into the city and it was eerily quiet away from the zocalo, really not much traffic and many businesses closed. People were just sacked out.
The pedestrian walkway, Alcala, heading south from Santo Domingo.
Most of the protesters were in under tarps, hiding from an intense sun, It was hot, hot, hot. There was no action of any sort, just people sitting, hanging out or sleeping. I stopped and talked to several friends with stores, Victor Vasquez from Teresita, the great hole-in-the wall wood carving shop and Arnufo Mendoza, the famous weaver at Mano Magica. Both said business was non existent and hoped that the planton would end in the next couple of days. "It's the ambulantes, the street vendors. They are not from here, but they have taken over." That was the consensus at the cafés around the zocalo as well.
There were a few tourists eating, but only a few. It is just too hard to move around. At times it was almost comical. This cart was going backwards. There were too many low ropes for him.
Still, they were selling some good stuff.
Need a bra, amigo?
Total bottleneck. A single lane through the southwest corner of the zocalo, which is normally ten meters or 30 feet wide.
Mom. can we go as soon as I solve this Rubic's cube?
Why not drive a motorcycle through it?
This one reminded me of yesterday's burro shot....sometimes it is better to ignore everything and just eat.
Trash piling up.
The revolution will be televised by an all female crew no less.
Siestas in the flower beds under the laurels in the zocalo.
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