Boy, I have never felt so much like a country bumpkin.
I have finished relocating from Quetzaltenango in Guatemala to Mexico City. On Saturday I flew into the city (cheaper than taking the bus!) I was picked at the airport by someone from International House, the school at which I will be taking the CELTA course for the next month.
I was then driven to my homestay, a lovely apartment in a beautiful neighborhood. My host mother, a gossipy woman who has quickly taken me under her wing, is a talented painter. Her work is all over the walls of her simple, bright apartment.
Compared to my house in Guatemala, I am living in luxury. Of course, I loved that ghetto concrete box of a home in Quetzaltenango, but now this place seems like a palace. A palace I can’t afford after the course is over and I find a more reasonable apartment, but a palace nonetheless.
I guess the host mother has taken a liking to me, because in two days she has already taken me out to a movie with a couple of her kids, and to dinner at a fancy Argentinian restaurant with her extended family. Her extended rich family, I should add. Paying 15 bucks for a meal pained the budget traveler in me, sure. I figured though that it was a small price to pay to meet well-to-do and connected people who want to hire me for private English lessons and help me find jobs.
Anyways, I am like the country mouse visiting the city mouse in that children’s book. We passed through the mall on the way to the movies, and I was wide eyed at all the beautiful stores that I can’t afford. Condesa, the neighborhood where I attend school, is chic and trendy and full of swanky restaurants and coffeeshops… that I can’t afford. And everyone in this city is dressed so well. 7 months of shopping in Quetzaltenango’s pacas (second hand stores) means I am not nearly fashionable enough for this city.
And, trying to find my way back to class after lunch, I got lost. Lost. I never get lost!
Jeez.
But I love this city. I visited it for a week last summer and I loved it at once. Now that I’m back, I’m already finding myself hooked on its energy and endless possibility. It’s easy to see why many Chilangos (Mexico City residents) can’t imagine living anywhere else in their country, or the world for that matter. Maybe I’ll have the same feeling soon.
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