When a country is your teacher and a culture your classroom...
Tuesday, May 25, 2010 at 01:14PM Mr. P and I are coming up on our 4 year anniversary of living in Mexico. 4 years. It's FLOWN by. The other day we were talking and became nostalgic. I mentioned, "You know, we've really grown up here." We both chewed on that thought and agreed, that yes, Mexico has in many ways been our teacher over the last 4 years. And we have been reluctant, sassy, yet persevering students.
Here in Mexico is where Mr. P taught his first lesson as a teacher. In a tiny classroom surrounded by sweaty, loud, brown, laughing teenage bodies. Mexico taught Mr. P to love students and to teach with all his strength, to appreciate the talkative nature of Mexicans and if all else fails, to speak slowly.
Here in Mexico I became a counselor. At first I was just a wanna-be. Seeing students in my shoebox-office. Hoping and praying it looked like I knew what I was doing. Mexico was kind to me. Mexico taught me patience and trust and warmth and hospitality. Here in Mexico I decided to pursue my Master's in Counseling. To make it official. To seize the day. Mexico taught me initiative.
Here in Mexico we became financially free. We paid off all of our debts. Mexico, you taught us that good things come to those who wait. And work hard. And save.
Here in Mexico we were given a second family. We lived on the rooftop of a Mexican family's home for almost two years. They cooked meals for us every, single day. We washed the dishes together, by hand. We spoke of cultural pride, and God's amazing love, and miracles, and family, and cooking, and parenting, and the struggles of their adolescent children. We sat on the rooftop and watched the sun go down and counted stars and felt my swelling belly and wondered who this child would be. That one special day, they drove us to the hospital, sat with us, held our son as if he were a part of them, and escorted us home to our new lives.
Here in Mexico we became parents. We would walk Mexico's streets for hours in the sticky July heat waiting for our son to join the world. In the process, we cursed the culture we didn't understand. We hated you, Mexico. We struggled and clashed and swore we'd never do it again. The C-Section. The superstitions. The loneliness. The misunderstandings. The cultural gap seemed too wide to build a bridge. And then the depression hit. And the anxiety. More misunderstanding, more confusion. But you were there, Mexico. You never changed. You taught us perseverance, and unconditional love. Mexico taught us to cling to one another. We walked its bumpy, uneven, pot-holed road and here we became a family.
We're still here. And our son is Mexican. You are all he's ever known.
We really have grown up here. My husband just accepted his first job in school administration, so we'll be staying at least 3 more years. Sometimes, this is hard to swallow. Sometimes, it's thrilling. It depends on the day. I guess a good way to describe our relationship with Mexico is that it had to get harder before it got easier. To me, living in another culture is like walking through life with your shoes on the wrong feet. It might be a little uncomfortable, maybe even hurt at times, it might take you longer to get where you're going... but you'll get there. And you'll learn a TON along the way.
Solo-boy was just a tiny pea inside me when we backpacked through southern Mexico and Central America.
Reader Comments (12)
What a beautiful BEAUTIFUL post. Made me feel like I was right there in Mexico with ya! This was very well written!! Best of luck to all of you in the next three years!!
I loved this post! really helped me understand more your journey (outward and inward). I am so glad you got the opporutnity to do this (and you're not done with Mexico yet! or she's not done with you!)
I LOVE this post!!! I would so very much LOVE LOVE LOVE to go to Mexico! Necesito practicar mi espanol!!! And how beautifully you wrote about it! Love it! (in case I hadn't mentioned that before). :)
Really enjoyed this one Grace! What a journey! Guess this life is always a journey full of twists and turns, ups and downs. Life is our teacher wherever we are. I can't really imagine life in another country. You are a very brave and adventurous woman. :) I hope we get to come visit sometime in the next three years to experience your world. I don't know how that's possible, but I guess really all things are... :)
you are an inspiring woman and sister. i sure admire you gracie poo.
You'll write a travel memoir yet!
BEAUTIFUL post, Grace! You describe living in another culture so well...the joy and angst of it all. It definitely makes us richer, that's for sure!
I love your blog, Grace! reading this makes me miss Mexico SO much!! I hope that I too can someday return and bring/create/raise a family there for more time!!
This post makes me want to move to Mexico! Beautiful!
And what a wonderful gift you're giving to your son. Few kids get to grow up immersed in another language, much less another culture. He is lucky that Mexico will be his teacher, classroom and playground...
Thanks for the comments everyone! Mexico & I are getting along pretty good these days... :)
"To me, living in another culture is like walking through life with your shoes on the wrong feet. "
I love this, Im so glad I have come across you blog. What a beautiful well written post and it speaks directly to the heart of the matter. Mexico truly helps the chaff fly off the wheat faster than it would back home.