As my time in Mexico City draws to a close I feel the same looming semi-dread as I know I will have to do all this, all over again, in a different language. Although I wouldn't say that I feel 'at home' here necessarily, I have come to love this city, its persistent racket, its unpredictable nature. I don't want to leave, partially because this is such a specific and brief period in my life. I do feel a certain pressure to do more everyday, whilst I still can.
When I arrived in Mexico I really struggled to string a sentence together and maintaining a conversation in Spanish was a fairly painful experience. I have accomplished much more than I ever thought I would in a different language, and although it has happened at the expense of my French (which is fading) for the first time in my life I feel comfortable in Spanish.
I have started to look for colocations in Lyon, but it will be a whole new unknown and I am resisting starting the admin. Although I am genuinely excited about French bread, I am not looking forward to European winter.
I will miss this strange and chaotic place. To a certain extent I feel as if nothing will ever compare to living in Mexico City. It is unbelievably huge and noisy. There is a refreshing lack of health and safety. I pointed this out to my sister the other day but she wisely told me that every place has something different to offer. Living in France will be completely different and probably a bit of a headfuck, and maybe even completely incomparable to life in Mexico.
Photos taken from the roof of the Museo Anahuacalli, where a friend and I contemplated the size of the city and tried to work out which direction was which (which proved difficult when every direction is more metropolis).
When I arrived in Mexico I really struggled to string a sentence together and maintaining a conversation in Spanish was a fairly painful experience. I have accomplished much more than I ever thought I would in a different language, and although it has happened at the expense of my French (which is fading) for the first time in my life I feel comfortable in Spanish.
I have started to look for colocations in Lyon, but it will be a whole new unknown and I am resisting starting the admin. Although I am genuinely excited about French bread, I am not looking forward to European winter.
I will miss this strange and chaotic place. To a certain extent I feel as if nothing will ever compare to living in Mexico City. It is unbelievably huge and noisy. There is a refreshing lack of health and safety. I pointed this out to my sister the other day but she wisely told me that every place has something different to offer. Living in France will be completely different and probably a bit of a headfuck, and maybe even completely incomparable to life in Mexico.
Photos taken from the roof of the Museo Anahuacalli, where a friend and I contemplated the size of the city and tried to work out which direction was which (which proved difficult when every direction is more metropolis).
Taken from Metrobus Centro Cultural Universitario
Comments
Post a Comment