but I did get to hang out in Iztapalapa. The taxi dropped me off at a crossroads right in the thick of the Iztapalapa delegation. People chomping on chapulines and cruising in lime green Chevys seemed to be divided in their destinations, so I decided to follow the crowds heading up a massive hill. Turns out, wrong hill. Although I missed the pageantry, I did get a good feel for how the peeps on the south side celebrate in style.
When I finally encountered the scene of the faux crucifiction, the actor Jesus was long gone, and the three crosses were left in the wind. Instead, there was a salvation of another kind – city sponsored water trucks. I got some pretty cool shots of kids getting a respite from the water shut-offs.