Obstacles Overcome; Lessons Learned; Now What?: Mexico (LRW)

My friends and family in Mexico are starting to curse a lot more. And no, I´m not talking about the typical curses in Spanish, like the popular variations of the word "chingon," or offensive phrases referring to your mother. I despise a new set of words now, and they involve phrases like "when are you leaving?" or "how much time do you have left in Mexico?" and the worst of all, "I´m going to miss you."  

I like to think of these simple questions or statements as curses, because they all refer to an awful truth that I am not yet prepared to face: my exchange semester in Mexico is coming to an end. While it feels like my time here has flown by (I hardly recognize that girl who wrote the "The Five Senses" blog post in January) I also feel as if I have been living here for years. The sights, sounds, and smells that were so strange and unfamiliar to me then are now just as normal as anything from the United States.

Even though I am consciously resisting accepting the fact that my exchange semester is ending, my subconscious keeps bubbling up with reflections from my time here. I can´t help but look back at how much I have learned and overcome since I arrived. 

The traditional dance at a friends 18th birthday party

I remember some of my first fiestas with my family that seemed never-ending, or being frustrated when my host brother said we were going to do something soon but when we wouldn't leave until hours later. He is very fond of saying "no hay un plan!" (there is no plan), and my greatest fear now, my dwindling time left here, is also one of the largest obstacles I have already overcome. I have (almost) entirely abandoned my American tendency for adhering to a strict time schedule, and I no longer become frustrated when someone tells me they will do something "ahorita" and don´t address it until days later. I have embraced the lack of punctuality, and no longer show up to all my classes ten minutes beforehand, because class typically doesn't start until ten minutes after the stated time.

This flexibility and cultural adaptability that I have developed in Mexico will serve as valuable skills for complex problem solving in my future career, as well as my abilities to take (well-calculated) risks. Problems that others would find difficult to resolve, like how to navigate a public transportation in a foreign city, or how to work with a team of people from different cultural and social backgrounds for a group project, are now quite easy for me to deal with.

The unfamiliar has now become familiar, and I worry how unfamiliar the familiar things from my life back home will feel when I return. A couple of days ago, I celebrated a friend's birthday party with his many American friends in the city, and I found myself feeling out of place and uncomfortable. When they stuck out their hand, I was going in for a hug and a kiss on a cheek. I became very aware of how loudly they were speaking English, and the attention I was getting just by being with them. I'm a gringa, just like them, but somehow I felt... not.

The color festival they kept saying would start "ahorita"

But my greatest achievement from my time abroad is not quite as tangible. My accomplishments here are evident to me when I can answer a stranger in perfect Spanish when they ask for directions, or converse with family and friends at social gatherings without getting the "what did she say?" look. The feeling of coming home and joking around with my host brothers is the most natural thing in the world. Beyond just my improved language skills, I am also no longer surprised by commonplace cultural occurrences- my friend from the States was worried we would be late for a color festival, but when we arrived just barely on time it didn't start until a half hour later.

Is making a foreign country your home through study away even possible? In one sense yes, but in others no. Even though I feel like I have adapted to the Mexican way of life, that change within me does not change my appearance- to everyone on the street, I fit right in with that group of Americans. And one thing I am looking forward to about returning home is just that: not feeling like a foreigner in what I have come to perceive as my own country. But that doesn't change how I feel about Mexico.

Banda music in a nearby antro

I am coming back (it was really satisfying just to type that sentence out). One of my friends is here with the Peace Corps, and that is an option I am seriously considering to work and serve a country I have come to love. This thought, of my imminent return, is the only thing that keeps me from feeling despair when people say the "curses." The question for me is not when am I leaving, but when am I coming back?