Named after a city in Bohemia, for the past fifty years, the neighborhood of Pilsen has been the center of Mexican cultural life in Chicago.

I usually choose to explore the area every October, which is when they have a killer Day of the Dead exhibit at the National Museum of Mexican Art. This year, I drove cross-town a few weeks early to take a friend for a first-time visit to the museum.

Before wandering up Eighteenth Street, to check out the pastry shops serving dulce de leche and street venders hawking homemade tamales, I wanted to go to the museum. I was sure he’d be impressed with the art collection.

Upon entering, we were greeted by a young, dark haired women who explained that only two galleries were open currently because a new exhibit was being mounted. She also told us that that there was a special reception taking place in the community room in a short time.

I was more than a little disappointed. I was eager to show my friend favorite renditions of Our Lady of Guadalupe and samples of Huichol yarn art. He took the change of plans in stride. We browsed the two galleries and gift shop quickly.

Then, out of curiosity, we moved towards the community room. Several attractive bi-lingual twenty-somethings were positioned at tables to answer questions and record email addresses as people entered. It turned out to be a rally and reception for Dick Durbin who is running for senate re-election this year.

Soft drinks, tamales, and plates of cookies were set up on long plastic covered tables in one room and staged entertainment went on in another room.

We saw a lively mariachi band followed by folkloric dancers in front of a large screen where Unido con Durbin was projected in a large, bold font.

After enjoying the unexpected entertainment at the museum, we wandered down side streets and looked at the work of some less heralded but very talented muralists.

Everyman heroes were not forgotten in the street art of Pilsen. One garage door boasted great likenesses of Poncho VIlla and Emiliano Zapata. A small factory nearby had painted vaqueros (Mexican cowboys) being looked over by a traditional depiction of Jesus.

After our art walk through the streets, we ambled down the main drag and picked out a place to have a couple tacos, Caritas Uruapan. They seemed to specialize in all things PIG and, based on the crowd, was pretty popular with the locals.

Shortly after we were served tacos in paper-lined red plastic baskets by a smiling waitress (She later handed us La Vaquita carmel lollipops with the check), a conjunto norteno, a small band of musicians, walked through the yellow tiled walls of the restaurant. They started playing and singing. It was the real deal, my friend, who goes to Mexico every winter, told me.

I saw that he was happy with the adventure. This made me very happy – enjoying the day as it unfolded, even though it was not the day I had planned.

We weren’t able to see any work by Diego Rivera at the museum, but did get to see traditional Mexican dancers at the Democratic senator’s rally, saw an incredible mural on the side of a house showing a recent immigrant getting caught in the barbed wire on the border, and we got to enjoy some authentic norteno music over lunch.

Seeing that things can turn out better than what was planned is no small thing.