Six months in Mexico

I went to Mexico thinking I would stay six months.

I had a friend of a friend there and somewhere I could sleep when I arrived. That was basically the entire plan.

Mami was convinced something terrible was going to happen to me. Papá was quieter about it, which somehow made leaving harder.

I remember packing Rayuela because apparently that was essential, while forgetting several things I actually needed.

Mexico City overwhelmed me immediately. I had never lived anywhere that big. For the first few weeks I was constantly lost.

Six months became a year without me really deciding anything.

Then another year.

I stayed almost five.