Things Forgotten

In elementary school, I was the kind of kid that would open a new textbook and flip all the way to the end. I wanted to start off the year by seeing how far I'd make it by the time we finished. I would scan for words, and if I didn't understand them, I'd try to remember that feeling. My thought was that I could actually see myself learning. Words like "photosynthesis" would transform from an unintelligible jumble of letters into a concept that I could explain and understand.

I was such a nerd.

This year is not a classroom learning kind of year. Instead, I've been immersed into a new environment with all of the excitement and challenges that come along with it. And while I have learned, I realize that I haven't really seen myself learning. Instead, I noticed how much I've absorbed when I left Mexico for (an absolutely wonderful) Christmas at home, and made my way back afterwards.

So, in an effort to track my progress, here are some of the things I had forgotten getting used to by living here (this is not a comprehensive list):

1. Kissing Hello and Goodbye

In Mexico, when you walk into a room, you greet the people you know (and the people that those people are standing with) with a kiss on the cheek. You do the same when you are saying goodbye for the day. Even if you're just going to chat for a second, you greet with a kiss on one cheek, and then say goodbye by kissing on the cheek again.

This is my favorite: sometimes, I've seen people walking briskly down the street right before work starts, but when they see someone they know, they run to the middle of the street, kiss on the cheek, and run back to their respective sidewalks. There's not time for conversation, but there is always time to acknowledge your acquaintances.

I cannot count the number of times that I almost kissed friends and relatives on the cheek over the Christmas season. I forgot to stop myself once. Luckily for me, my aunt just kind of went with it.

2. I Love Spicy Sweets, and That's Not Weird

Because I grew up here, I have a deep love for all things coated in chamoy or salsa Valentina. When I'd explain how wonderful spicy candy or salsa-coated chips are in high school or college in the US, the response would always be one of confusion. Being in Mexico once more, I can indulge in my beloved junk food without judgment.

Even the youngest kids here get it. We were teaching our kindergarten-aged students how to make two recipes, one for jicama pops covered in chili (a dessert), and one for tuna salad. When one boy accidentally sorted the chamoy into the tuna salad column, the teacher I assist asked: "Now, why would you put that there?" He explained that he thought it was a bottle of salsa Valentina. She shook her head and explained his mistake. "Now kids," she continued, "are chamoy and salsa Valentina the same thing?" The students erupted in peals of laughter.

Only in Mexico.

3. Drive Me Crazy

Even though Atlacomulco is a pretty small city, the roads are a wild place. There's not much for crosswalks or courtesy passing for fellow drivers. I have had to become much more aggressive in my street-crossing tactics. And although I had wanted to rent a car for some weekend trips at the beginning of the year, I have basically resolved not to drive unless I have to.

It's not that it's unsafe, exactly. In Taxco, when Anika and I visited during her trip a couple of weeks ago, we asked the taxi driver whether anyone got in wrecks. The roads there are insane, narrow, windy, and super steep two-ways that are only wide enough for one car. I would have had nothing but understanding if our driver had said yes. Instead, he explained that you basically never saw wrecks. "I've never been in a wreck myself," he told us while staring into the rearview mirror, "I only broke a woman's leg once. But she was walking where she shouldn't have been."

He wasn't joking. I have had to resist every urge to revert to my sheepish, street crossing ways.

4. Unspoken Yesses

Now this one is a regional thing. If you're speaking with someone, and especially if your mouth is full, you can say "yes" simply by extending and folding your index finger multiple times. It's not like wagging your finger, it's like nodding an imaginary head on the tip of your nail.

Really, this is super convenient. I already look like a four year old when I eat, and trying to quickly gulp down food in order to continue on a conversation is just not my fortè. I've happily adopted the silent yes as my own.

This was confusing, however, on multiple occasions during my visit home.

5. Mi = Su Casa

When someone talks to you about their home, it is not at all uncommon to extend the hospitable gesture of calling it "your home" instead. The first time I noticed it was in a conversation about daylight savings time. One of the teachers I work with told me, "So, I woke up, and the clock in your kitchen said 9:00! I freaked out, until I remembered that the time had changed." I freaked out for a second myself (I don't have a clock in my house). When she saw my confusion she explained that her home was my home. I am welcome there anytime I like.

I'll be honest in saying that I haven't used that phrasing myself. I like to be as welcoming as possible, and maybe when I feel more adulty than I do now, I will throw people off by talking about mishaps in their (my) living room.

I am starting to think, though, that I will never do as authentic a job of extending a hospitable hand as my community here has done for me; they are just so good at it.