Back to the Homeland

I never thought I would ever find myself immersed in blogs and travel sites researching things to do in Mexico City. I never thought that I'd have to look for the best ways to get to certain destinations, or look for itineraries on hikes or day trips to the Pueblos Magicos on the outskirts of the city. I never thought that I would ever approach Mexico City like every other country I have gone to and explored in the last four years.

For this was home. These are the types of things that you just know. The hardcore Mexican in me wanted very badly to scream out and say "Just go home and do what you do at home and don't make it like another one of your destinations - because it's home!"

The concept and the meaning of home has been progressively and methodically changing. First it was meaningless, really, it was just a place where I lived - nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't until the first time I left that it started to hold any significant value. Most of my memories of that first year in Texas are of how badly I wanted to go back home.

"I don't belong here. I don't want to belong here. I want to go back to Mexico."  

It truly is pathetic, and cliche - but I really didn't even realize how much I loved Mexico until after I had left. Suddenly I was proud of everything that I was never aware of before, everything that just was. I was of a culture filled with good people, good food, good football and everything else you could think of was good, or better. Of course, Mexico was only as good as Katy, Texas was bad - and I hated Katy for the at least the first six or seven years that I lived there.

That was almost ten years ago. I have been away from Mexico for the last 12 years, maybe a bit more. I have gone back as a temporary guest, always, and I have been learning to accept that for what it is. This does not mean that I no longer see Mexico as my home, but that my perception of home has simply changed. For you see, I no longer feel like I belong in Mexico, not really. I am, however, Mexican, and I will always represent myself as such, proudly. 

So what is Mexico to me now?

Mexico is my foundation. It is my teacher and my nurturer. A strong sense of culture and tradition that I could never take for granted.  I fell in love with mountains first in Mexico; with the volcanoes and their story. Mexico is my family, my predetermined and chosen one. Mexico has always, and will always be, the place for mercados with the best quesadillas, pambazos, aguas frescas, spices and fresh fruit; it will always be the place of chaos and traffic; the valley within the mountains; where everyone is a 'blondie'. Where I have never, nor will I ever know Montezuma's revenge, I only know flavors, the colors and the textures of a culture that is still, in my eyes, fascinating and absolutely magnificent. In my own, very much biased opinion, Mexico is the best country in the world. 

To me, of course. 

And with the passing of time (away from it) I am learning to see it as so much more than that. I am learning to see it for both it's touristic selling points; it's exotic destinations and for it's flaws as well. 

It is a home that is becoming more and more exotic the more I am away. Through the eyes of someone who obsesses over researching the most magical and beautiful places a country has to offer, Mexico becomes a paradise. A paradise that I had never known before; A place of high mountains and challenging hikes; a diverse paradise where all kinds of ecosystems exist from the bluest of the beaches in Oaxaca to the tropical forests and reserves of Chihuahua. And that's not even close to making it justice. That's not even worthy of an introductory passage or a status update. 

I have always known Mexico to be beautiful. But I really didn't understand just how magnificent it is. I never really appreciated what home is.

See home the way you'd approach a weekend away destination. Every other weekend. Surprise yourself.