El primer día de muchos días aquí
Wow...what a crazy and long couple of days it has been here. I love the unfamiliarity of coming to a new place; the foreignness feels good to me. It is easy to get attached to a certain way of thinking or behaving...often times we get comfortable in just that; our bubble of what's right and wrong, our lack of desire to know and understand more. I know that I've been there, a lot and I admit that, but I'm also more than willing to open my heart to new ideas and viewpoints different from my own.
The last couple of days before I left were weird...I was feeling incredibly grateful for my friends and family that were providing and caring for me. Although I did not have one place to call home, I felt like I had many homes. However, as my nomadic transition came to end, it seemed as though that I, was once again, alone. Alone to my thoughts and emotions....despite what everyone has told me, this has remained a consistent and somewhat, harsh, yet satisfying truth. Kelly picked me up around 3 in the morning and her boyfriend drove us to the airport. We arrived early, checked our bags and boarded our plane. The entire process felt too simple given my recent mishap, but I'm glad to say that I did not repeat the same mistake...for a repeated mistake is no longer a mistake, but a part of a person's character. We had a long 5 hour layover in Dallas, Texas and before we knew it, we lost two hours and landed in Queretaro! Even going through customs was a breeze. We checked into our hotel for the night called Hidalgo and while some decided to venture out into the streets, I chose to listen to my body and stay in. I had been feeling under the weather for the past couple of days due to an unsteady sleep schedule and climate.
The following morning, our first "international accident" happened. Lucas had left his card in the ATM the previous night and when he woke up realizing this, he rushed to retrieve it, but it was long gone. A gal named Vero (short for Veronica) met up with us and helped us to get Mexican phones and numbers. Immediately I experienced Déjà vu from my first couple of days in China when Asia had met up with us to assist in getting phones. Both processes were long and tiring. It is so difficult not to compare the two trips which I will try my best not to, but for contrasting purposes, I think that it is important to recognize and understand the differences. After finally retrieving our phones and checking out, the moment that we had all been anticipating for was about to occur; meeting our host families. I had heard so much about my host mom, Lupita, from Jennifer (our program coordinator), a letter that she had written to me, and from Amanda (a girl who had her as a host mom 4 years ago), but nothing could have prepared me for the actual encounter. She greeted me at the gate with a traditional kiss on each cheek and a wide smile. I was speechless as she spoke in Spanish, ten times faster than my brain was able to process. The house is huge and beautiful. A burnt orange and red house, there are at least 8 different rooms (even she is unsure of the exact number). My room is fairly big with its own bathroom and shower.
La comida is the most important meal of the day. In Mexico, the people here eat a very small dinner and a huge lunch around 3 or 4. Afterwards, people usually take a nap and relax. On Sundays, everyone is resting and going to church. We exchange in small talks during the meal. Lupita does not speak any English, forcing me to learn and explain more than I was prepared to do. Thus far, she has only made me vegetarian meals, an accommodation that does not fit the norm of the culture, but something that I am appreciative of. I later meet up with the other exchange students from Oregon and we walk to the Centro. September is the month for celebration with Independence Day approaching fast on the 15th. The night is alive and we are in the heart of it all.
The last couple of days before I left were weird...I was feeling incredibly grateful for my friends and family that were providing and caring for me. Although I did not have one place to call home, I felt like I had many homes. However, as my nomadic transition came to end, it seemed as though that I, was once again, alone. Alone to my thoughts and emotions....despite what everyone has told me, this has remained a consistent and somewhat, harsh, yet satisfying truth. Kelly picked me up around 3 in the morning and her boyfriend drove us to the airport. We arrived early, checked our bags and boarded our plane. The entire process felt too simple given my recent mishap, but I'm glad to say that I did not repeat the same mistake...for a repeated mistake is no longer a mistake, but a part of a person's character. We had a long 5 hour layover in Dallas, Texas and before we knew it, we lost two hours and landed in Queretaro! Even going through customs was a breeze. We checked into our hotel for the night called Hidalgo and while some decided to venture out into the streets, I chose to listen to my body and stay in. I had been feeling under the weather for the past couple of days due to an unsteady sleep schedule and climate.
The following morning, our first "international accident" happened. Lucas had left his card in the ATM the previous night and when he woke up realizing this, he rushed to retrieve it, but it was long gone. A gal named Vero (short for Veronica) met up with us and helped us to get Mexican phones and numbers. Immediately I experienced Déjà vu from my first couple of days in China when Asia had met up with us to assist in getting phones. Both processes were long and tiring. It is so difficult not to compare the two trips which I will try my best not to, but for contrasting purposes, I think that it is important to recognize and understand the differences. After finally retrieving our phones and checking out, the moment that we had all been anticipating for was about to occur; meeting our host families. I had heard so much about my host mom, Lupita, from Jennifer (our program coordinator), a letter that she had written to me, and from Amanda (a girl who had her as a host mom 4 years ago), but nothing could have prepared me for the actual encounter. She greeted me at the gate with a traditional kiss on each cheek and a wide smile. I was speechless as she spoke in Spanish, ten times faster than my brain was able to process. The house is huge and beautiful. A burnt orange and red house, there are at least 8 different rooms (even she is unsure of the exact number). My room is fairly big with its own bathroom and shower.
Comments
Post a Comment