OK, this is shameful. And ridiculous. Almost two months without a blog post! Everyone here jokes that I speak really crudely–English and Spanish–so I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, in my typical, crass, way. I’m going to blog the crap out of you from now on!*
I can’t explain exactly why, but it feels like the moment for goodbyes. I’ll be staying at least until May, and I won’t be returning for the holidays. I still have another semester ahead of me, thank God, and I still have a ton of adventures to take one! Even so, the semester ends this week. I just have my final papers, and I’m free for an entire month of traveling, drinking chelas, seeing my sister and one of my befis, Carolyn, for the first time in months. But I feel a little sad, like my experience is ending. I’m currently in Guadalajara for the annual Feria de Libros. When I return to Mérida on Tuesday, all of the other American students will have finished their semesters. When I come back from a month of travelling, I’m not sure what’s waiting for me. Will my friends that are still in Mexico want to be my friends, even if I don’t have classes with them anymore? Will I continue to make friends in my new classes, or stick to the connections I have established? Will I study more, or less? Travel more, or less? Approach more, or less? I have the feeling that next semester will be completely different from this one.
But reflecting on this semester, two songs come to mind: “Atrevete” (“Dare”) by Calle 13 and “Je Ne Regrette Rien” by Edith Piaf. Clichés, but sincere. I can honestly say that I approached every opportunity I could: to get to know Merida, and Mexico. To get to know Mexicans or my fellow exchange students. Professor Glavin once said that one problem with a certain group of Georgetown students is that we don’t charge. Well, I charged, I leapt, (sometimes literally,) I dared. Now before I sound too self-agrandizing, I’ll say this. There are certain things that, given the opportunity to repeat the experience, I would do differently. I would save my money, eat fewer Takis, participate more in class and avoid some romantic misadventures. But ekis, I learned a ton from my mistakes, and I honestly don’t regret any of them. And the resaon I know that is that last week, for some reason, I thought, “What if I had gotten into X University or Y College? I’m glad I didn’t, because I probably wouldn’t be here.” And in some alternate universe, I did get into X University, and I am studying Mongolian and living in a yurt for the semester, and feeling so lucky to have ended up there. But it doesn’t matter. I’m here! And I love it! And I welcome my future here, including heartburn from too many Takis, all-nighters from when I decide to see a play instead of get an early start on my essay, scrapping together money for this or that because I decide to take a trip that weekend.
But anyway, probably concrete details would be appreciated, imagery and stuff. To sign off on this post, I’ll try to think of some images that have stuck out to me recently
-On the way to Guadalajara, I saw a series of newspaper delivery men on their bicycles on the freeway. Almost every single one had the image of the Virgin of Guadalupe on his basket, I assume in part for a safe trip. All of the buses in Mexico also have some religious relic or other , but then again, some of them also have the Playboy bunny. Who knows?
-OK, not to generalize, but my Mexican peers get really excited about things that don’t seem that exciting while travelling. For example, there was this dinky little hill criss-crossed with telephone wires and some scrubby trees, and our bus pulled over so we could all take pictures. On the one hand, the photos add up quickly. But on the other, it’s sweet that an unimpressive hill can be beautiful, like maybe my peers are less desensitized than I am.
-Another thing about my Mexican friends and classmates is that they take things upon themselves a lot more. There’s a lot less support from the university here, so student initiatives are 100% run by students. That includes trips like this one, but it also includes two friends walking around the building selling brownies or Jicama with chamoy to fund their travels over the vacation. Overall, I think it’s pretty badass!
Man, there are so many political and sociocultural themes that I want to approach, ones that are so much more important than Calle 13, but I guess those will have to wait for another day, when I finally get tired of talking about myself, food, etc.!
*If you don’t see any more posts from me from now on, it’s because I was banned for my offensive language–Excuse me!
