Beginnings

Today marks my sixteenth day in Mexico City. I touched down in this sprawling metropolis just over two weeks ago and all that I can coherently draw from my experience so far is that everyday is unpredictable. I never know who I will meet, what conversations will arise, or where exactly my (geographical and emotional) direction is heading each day. This can be accurately summarised by my very early arrival at the first hostel I had booked, which resulted in a semi-nap on a wooden mezzanine floor in the early hours of the morning whilst three disgruntled security guards (who I had woken up) slept on the floor below, before I cancelled my reservation and broke the handle of my suitcase on the journey to the next (much nicer) hostel. 

A previous year abroad student advised me to not expect too much from everyday, but this is a mammoth task for an overthinker. My first term of uni was spent desperately trying to connect with people, and the fact that I have to accomplish this task again in a foreign language is not something I’m actively enthused by. I’ve already met so many people, but it's so difficult to connect with anyone when you can’t be yourself in a different language. There are so many aspects of communicating in English that I miss and cannot translate. My Spanish is passable but everyday is still fraught with linguistic blunders, and I’ve quickly realised that replying ‘si’ to everything doesn’t actually work. My sense of humour is non-existent/really-not-funny-at-all and I get so caught up trying to conjugate a verb that I forget where my train of thought is going, leaving the group of listeners very confused. I don’t know who I am in this language. 

The purpose of a year abroad is to be fully immersed in a language and its culture, but the reality of this dream is harsh and often lonely. I am lucky that people understand and have patience when I’m trying to communicate something particularly complex (e.g. Brexit) but I never feel satisfied with what I say because the fully-formed and coherent idea in my head splurges out of my mouth in a half-baked and grammatically-incorrect sentence, and this is not who I am. 

Having said that, I do feel as if I have made a vast improvement in the last 2 weeks. I arrived here having not spoken Spanish for at least 3 months and I’ve managed to buy a SIM card, organize my timetable, rent an apartment, and not die which is all I can really expect at the moment.

After all, this isn’t supposed to be easy. Trust me, if this was easy I would be moaning even more.