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If you've ever been to Mexico City, then you'd understand why it's difficult to imagine canoes full of food, merchandise and people traveling down irrigation canals on what are now paved streets in the city's charmingly chaotic Historic Downtown.
EL UNIVERSAL recently took a tour of the Roldán and La Acequia Real streets, remnants of a vast network of canals built by the Aztecs long before the arrival of the Spanish. Today, on Roldán Street there are countless of small businesses in the area, as well as informal vendores sellings coffee, spices, knick knacks, street food and anything you can think of.
“Unlike other streets in the Historic Downtown, which are straight and run parallel to each other, Roldán street is very irregular because of the canal that used to run through here. In fact, several of the streets that cross Roldan are named after the bridges that were used by people to cross from one side to another,” shared Carlos Briones, a local in the neighborhood.
The Royal Canal
The Royal Canal (la Acequía Real) used to cut through what is today the corner of Corregidora and Roldán streets. It's name came from the fact that the canal used to run right alongside the Viceregal Palace, today known as the National Palace. This canal ran through some of the city's then most important buildings, plazas and homes, which included the Antigua Alhóndiga building, where officials would store and regulate the prices of merchandise and food that was imported into the city. During the 1700's, the Alhóndiga became the Church's official tithe building. Today, the building is used by Mexico's National Anthropology and History Institute as their offices.
The canal also crossed the Plaza del Volador, one of the main markets during colonial times. At the end of the 1800s, the plaza was closed down and replaced by a public garden which remained until 1935, when the Supreme Court was built in its place.
Failed Restoration Project
In the 80s, the Mary Street Jenkins Foundation and other organizations launched an initiative in the hopes or restoring the Acequia Real, which included building reflective pools in what was then the most important canal and building a replica of the Roldán Bridge, as well as placing metal plaques on the street that reading “Acequia Real”, in honor of the most important canal.
The reflective pools clashed with the modern city, whose canoes had long been replaced by trucks and trolleys, cars and pedestrians carrying baskets and other things. In fact, while we were touring and photographing the area, several young men carrying boxes on their shoulders yelled at us: “Güeros, move out of the way!” As if seeing us taking pictures in the area was so out-of-place for them.
Over the years, this attempted restoration project unfortunately proved to be impossible to maintain: passersby vandalized the reflective pools, there was little maintenance on the government's part and the growing number of informal vendors all contributed to its demise. The reflective pools were finally completely removed in the early 2000s.
The government blamed society for not doing their part in taking care of the reflective pools; the locals blamed the government, since they claimed that an efficient maintenance system was never factored into the restoration efforts.
The project that cost millions and was aimed at honoring the city's lacustrine past has now been reduced to a few metal plaques on the street's pavements and a replica bridge that's been forgotten, heavily vandalized, smells horribles and is home to the homeless.
Marcos, who works at the La Peninsular cantina as a sweeper, told EL UNIVERSAL that ever since he can recall that area of the city has been overrun with informal vendors. He also said he knew about the canals. “People used to talk about a very old canal that used to run through here,” he said. When asked if he would have liked to have seen it, he said “If the area is a mess today thanks to all of these pedestrian only street initiatives, imagine adding water to the equation!”
Today
In 2009, a rehabilitation project was launched in the old La Merced neighborhood, one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city, predating even the Spanish conquest, by the city's government and several organizations dedicated to conserving the country's historical sites. Two years later, Abida Ventura, a correspondent for EL UNIVERSAL,
told us that many of the buildings that benefited from this project are the ones that used to run along the old canals. However, like what happened with the canal restoration project, a lot of money is invested into these projects, and then they're abandoned and forgotten over time.
After touring the area, where promises of restoration are constantly being made, the question that remains is, why does the local government keep implementing these restoration projects, but fail to implement any kind of maintenance strategies for their proper upkeep? Wouldn't it be a better idea to clean up these filthy and rundown neighborhoods before even attempting to restore their historical sites? This would be an incentive for the people in the area to realize the true value of their neighborhood's rich history, thus encouraging locals to actually take care of any restoration efforts and avoid repeating what happened with the reflective pools.
Historical photographs: Colección Villasana-Torres, Juan Carlos Briones and EL UNIVERSAL's Archives.
Sources: Juan Carlos Briones, Fundación Mary Street Jenkins and the articles "Barrio La Merced, una joya ignorada en el Centro Histórico" by Abida Ventura, and "Pronto se olvidaron de los corredores peatonales" by Sandra Hernández, EL UNIVERSAL.
