El Primer Dia (The First Day)
I don’t think it would ever be possible to sum up the first beginnings to Cuernavaca, Mexico. To start off any major journey in your life being physically ill should be an immediate sign of impatience, frustration, running noses, and a lot of cursing. Of course, this is how we started – upon arriving at the airport, we weigh both bags to find that both are over the fifty pound weight limit; time to adjust. Finally, after much deliberation from the sick student, the helpful boyfriend, and the flustered parents, we got one bag to be over and one to be under fifty pounds. Great start right? Wrong.
“Is it August 31st?” asks the friendly but tired Continental kiosk woman. “No… it’s August 27.” “Well, that’s too bad. We’re not accepting international bags over fifty pounds until August 31.” … fabulous.
Tears and snot accumulating in my face, I sit down on the rough and dirty airport carpet, suitcases open, shoes, underwear, and large amounts of shampoo bottles sprawled everywhere. Several choice words, many trips to the scales, and explaining my situation about ten different times later, I finally allow both suitcases under fifty pounds, no large shampoo and conditioner bottles, and a new large duffel bag stuffed with shoes and jeans to carry on board with me.
Needless to say the goodbye was quite stressful, long, and ill. Regardless, after going past security and shouting across the entire terminal, “I LOVE YOU!!” and met with glares and rude comments from tired security officers, we decided that Portland, Oregon had seen and heard enough from Caitlin Bletscher.
On to Mexico.
We finally arrived in Mexico City’s airport at 11:30 am, after getting about 3 hours of sleep on the plane ride from Housten then straight south to Mexico City. The process went by fairly smooth, considering my passport wouldn’t scan, so I did what an stupid American young girl would do in such a situation: I initiated a pleasant conversation. After several minutes of speaking in Spanish about where I was from and how I’m nervous about meeting my host family and what I’m studying in school and how my Spanish is horrid, I managed to grass on past the rest of security with a smile on my face.
After grabbing our bags, me, Whitney, and Tyler headed for the main entrance of the airport, only to find Nicole, our other studying abroad student from Mexico, patiently waiting by Starbucks. One would think that the second largest city in the world would have a huge airport, one with not only a Starbucks store, but an express Starbucks store within the store. I stood mistaken. The Portland airport itself must have been at least ten times larger than this airport. After exploring the entire airport in a about four minutes, which concluded with finding two 7/11 stores within a couple of feet of each other and a delicious Carl’s Junior where Tyler and I grabbed a bite to eat for a mere 56 pesos… still haven’t figured out the currency.
Waiting four more hours for the remaining five students from Gettysburg college, we got to know the layout and people of the Mexico City Airport quite well. We piled every single piece of luggage into the Universal Van, driven by Javier (or “Java” as Tyler likes to call him) and accompanied by one of the university professors, Alecia, who accompanied the Gettysburg students, we all managed to fit every crammed and awkward student into the van with no additional spot for anyone.
The ride to the school proved to be an hour and a half long, full of wild and dangerous curves (“curvos peligrosos”), inside jokes, inappropriate comments, hilarious outpours of laughter from me, Whitney, and Tyler in the back of the van, and a great compilation of “Span-glish” speakers throughout.
The next couple of hours are a blur, and whizzed by fast and furious – the perfect combination for such an awkward interaction. Awaiting us, in the center of a somewhat torn and tarnished Mexican City (VERY MUCH SO unlike a “Newberg city”), was a small gated garage opening to a small patio of tiled flooring and beautiful flowers and a group of eager professors. The confused and anxious students filed out of the van, only to be met immediately by their host family. Without time to think, we were introduced to our familias and were sent on our way.
I was met by Senora Lucinda and her granddaughter Maria, a small, shy, incredibly adorable little girl who never let go of her grandma’s hand or spoke a single word but small grunts. She was very pleasant and despite the struggle we both had with lifting my two suitcases, heavy backpack, and ridiculous extra duffel bag, we arrived ‘home.’
After pulling into a gated drive-way, Senora Lucinda and Maria and I went through a back patio, greeted by two very eager and excited beagles of whom Lucinda shushed away, and into a small back doorway. It led to a small room with a full-sized bed layered with a roughly made religious blanket of Mary (it’s still questionable though) spread across. It held a small desk next to the bed, a night-side table, a full closet (with about 10 hangers), shelving, a locked cupboard and a cute little bathroom.
The words or pictures don’t do it justice – it’s in the backside of a huge complex the family owns to accommodate their four children and random family members popping in and out of the house. After she introduced me to my room, we headed upstairs to the kitchen and immediately invited me to sit down and asked if I was hungry or thirsty. Being really neither of the two, I simply said yes just to avoid any further discussion about why I was so exhausted from the long day’s travels. She offered me “tuna,” which instantly caught me off guard when she reached for these potato-looking vegetables with holes (almost like spuds) on them – she later explained that it’s from cactus and is really delicious. I nonchalantly drank from the pitcher she poured of the jugo (juice) and found it to be incredible! I explained to Lucinda that I needed to find this same cactus in the states because I really needed more of this refreshing and light drink. She started laughing and began to tell me about her life and asked me questions about where I was from. Our first conversation proved to be not awkward whatsoever, but really enlightening and encouraging. With the small interruption of her nephew (?) of an unpronounceable name, who is currently studying engineering in a nearby school, and the mother of the cute and silent Maria, a friendly and really gorgeous woman in her mid-twenties (the father ultimately stopped later).
After quite a bit of talking and translating in Spanish, my brain became fried and I must have looked it on my frazzled face because Lucinda offered that I get a good night’s rest for tomorrow.
Unpacking what little remained of the luggage situation, taking a shower in my new bathroom, and making notes of what I needed to get tomorrow (including my entire make-up bag from Tyler who I pawned off only to create less room in my suitcase – always cheat the system) I started thinking about the howling beagles outside, the vase of purified water next to my bed, and the rushing of motorcycles in the streets nearby.
Welcome to Cuernavaca.
Adios Caitlin 