My Year Abroad

As exam time is coming to a close and all my friends start to trickle home from their various year abroad destinations, I figured it was about time I write something about my experiences.

It’s been a mad one, in short. I've already written a fair amount about my time in Mexico, about the violent love of my friends accompanied by bullets fired from police weapons and wealth of culture juxtaposed with the poverty of compassion from the hearts of those who hold the power. I learned about unyielding strength in times of hardship and laughter in the face of pessimism. Although I was unwell for a large amount of my stay, there is not one ounce of me that regrets going. My heart was broken in more ways than one, sleepless nights were abundant and tears shed uncountable, but oh lord, I am so much stronger for it. It was chaotic and challenging and magical in all the right ways.

Berlin, however, was short and not-so-sweet. Perhaps it was because I finally had a minute to breathe after all the crazy. Perhaps it was boredom. I really can’t decide. I started off well-ish, attending all my classes which was a habit I had lost after being removed from studies UNAM. I'm not sure if I was unwilling, or just simply unable to connect with others, so I’ll settle for somewhere in the middle. I spent most of my time reflecting on and processing what had happened to me, muddling my words when talking to new faces and feeling genuinely disconnected from most conversations. I suppose my life was just in a very uncertain place.

Funky Berlin street art

The culture shock was overwhelming. It’s like what people have often said to me about moving to London, that the shock isn't moving to the city, but moving back to your small, quiet town. I was in a similar sort of situation. I did a bit of exploring but felt so bewildered by the change in scenery to enjoy it much. I kept on confusing my German with my Spanish, my Spanish with my English. My accent in German was just weird and I had forgotten even the most simple sentence structures. The sheer waste of consumerism and pettiness of daily worries regularly brought me close to tears, and I longed to be anywhere else. Not to mention, people in Berlin are just plain rude.

The Backhaus TEAM

I can’t say it was all bad. Over time I started to adjust a little more, and though I never braved Berlin’s (in)famous night life, I did manage to enjoy some other Berlin-esk fun. My house mates were great and we had a day out urban exploring in an old spy base which has now been converted into an arts space. I also LOVE Mauerpark, with its live music, live haircuts and live, well, “music” with Bear Pit karaoke where tourists gather every Sunday to embarrass themselves. The visits I had from two of my favourites from Mexico and my family were absolutely fab as well, and my friends from KCL really did pull me through. Plus the food is cheap and the beer is cheaper, and you always feel safe walking alone at night. I was simply in the wrong frame of mind to enjoy it like I could have done.

My future Mexican hubby and I (we're marrying for visa purposes) losing our Pride virginity together.

Live music at Mauerpark

I’d like to go back sometime and do it again, but for me I think Berlin will always be a better holiday destination than home. I did get into Yoga while I was out there, which is one silver lining, and I stayed long enough to hopefully achieve enough credits to avoid any resits in my final year. Plus my new bestie lives out there too (if she ever returns from Mexico), so it’d be hard to avoid it forever.

We'd got a load of money out to pay some bills and felt rich for about five minutes, so we made it rain money but then lost loads and had to crawl around on the floor to find it...

I suppose Berlin taught me that sometimes, it’s OK to stop. You can push yourself too hard and your mind needs time to process things that happen to you. With hindsight, I probably wasn't well enough to go away at all, but in no way to a regret my decision to do so. It’s just made me realise that although moving to a new country may seem like a fun adventure, and in most respects it is, it’s also important never to forget the pressure it can have on your mental well-being. You can take things too quickly and everyone needs time to adjust.

I think the older I get, the more I realise the value of time at home, in familiarity and in those who have known you for years. It’s a place where you don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time, where you can relax and just be yourself without having to worry about making new friends or impressing anybody. In my mind I now have three ‘homes’: Preston, London and Mexico City, though Preston will always be closest to my heart. It’s funny how going away for thirteen months can make you realise the value of staying put. Roll on a summer filled with old friends, Oxfam and English food. I think I've just about earned it.

White Party and THE VIDEO

Initially, my goodbye party was supposed to be on the roof of my house and we were going to keep it low-key and low-budget. Unfortunately, my pinche landlords had a different idea and in spite of the fact that we gave them three weeks notice about the party, they cancelled just five days before.

Luckily our new plan turned out to be even better. A friend of mine suggested that we rent an island in Xochimilico for the night, where we could camp and drink and make as much noise as we liked without the concern of neighbours or trashing someone's house. Image Mexican Venice in the countryside, without the glam and romance, but rather an entirely different kind of beauty.

My friend Geovanni's cousin works on the boats that take you to these islands, which are more like long floating rafts which you row with a big stick, so she took us there at not too much expense. We all dressed in white (embarrassingly inspired by the white party in Gossip Girl) and popped champagne as we went, all looking very classy and sophisticated for at least the first ten minutes. We also managed to get some really beautiful picture before everyone got too messy.

As you can see the most part consisted of alcohol, glitter fights, face paint and kinda looking like we were at a hippy wedding. But it was beautiful and fun, until later when the usual drama started but we'll just forget about that part.

And now the moment you've ALL been waiting for... my highlights video from Mexico and that trip to the States I took almost a year ago. I hope you enjoy it and if you do, let me know, so I can make more of my future trips. (I mean I'm gonna do it anyway, I just won't share them with you...)

Goodbye for now, Mexico

“I like messy people; people who don’t fit in a box or stay between the lines, but who’s integrity is greater than any rule book and who’s loyalty is stronger than blood.” Jim Wern In April 2014, I made a last minute and rather impulsive decision to give my study abroad year a go. I'd just taken my self off medication (not sensible kids, always speak to your doctor first!) and I was feeling great, so I thought 'fuck it, why not?'. 

I thought I knew exactly what to expect. In first year I lived with loads of exchange students, and I'd witnessed lots of partying, travelling and general debauchery. All the cliché language barriers and culture jokes came up on a regular basis, there was a lot of gossip, tears, laughter and the like. Basically, I'd been given the impression of the typical L'auberge Espagnole year abroad and that all seemed rather appealing to me; a well-earned break from the ongoing stress of the last few years of my life.

I didn't know how wrong I could be. Instead I ended up taking part in a failed uprising, being shot at by police, hitch-hiking through the jungle, living without water, crawling through caves, hiding an illegal immigrant, crying my way through the Guatemalan border control, dropping out of uni due to students being shot on campus, rekindling old friendships and making new ones, meeting a best friend who I love unconditionally (even if she does like to turn people into soap) and falling in love with a bunch of salvajes whilst hiding from my accidental drug-dealer boyfriend in Chiapas, who ended up becoming an unshakeable part of my life in DF (the salvajes, not the accidental boyfriend). And all this on top of the usual language struggles, homesickness and other difficulties that come with being the foreign kid in a new country and kind of sucking at the language.
Ignoring the slight blip at Christmas where I was forced to go home, my stay in Mexico totalled just over 10 months. It'd be a lie to say I loved every minute of it because sometimes it was downright painful (running for our lives, the love triangles, bailing people out of jail...), but I can't say I regret a single second. Not surprisingly, I've learned heaps about myself, not to mention an entirely new culture and way of life. Oh, and I kind of speak Spanish now too, which I suppose was the idea of this all along.

#MOMENTOCHEESY

I don't know how to thank everyone I met enough for the incredible time I've had. I know the bonds we've made are so much stronger that the distance between us (ew did I really just write that? Too many Mexican feelings) and I know we've got many more exciting times ahead. I'll miss la pobreza, chilaquiles and living my life vicariously through Blair Waldorf more than you can imagine. Ahora son todos un parte de mi corazón y sería imposible olvidar como cambió mi vida con ustedes. Los quiero CHINGOS y los veo para mitzear pronto (Franzi y Anthony sólo dos meses!!) I really have found a new home.

**Video coming soon!**

End of the Haitus

It's been exactly four months since I felt I could actually write something on here. It's been a crazy time if I'm honest, and I have good reason for really not knowing how to share my experiences. On top of the uncertainty also came the problem of safety, because although I'm not some big shot blogger with a million followers, some of the things that happened to me, my friends and those around me proved that speaking out can get you into a lot of trouble with the wrong kinds of people.

The last trip I wrote about on here was one I took to Puerto Rico (and Martinique, which I am yet to write about) which happened pretty much exactly when the trouble started here in Mexico. I don't want to write too much about the beginnings of it all now (because it would simply take too long to explain), but here is a post I wrote closer to the time to give you a little more background information:

Ya Me Cansé - An Insight into Mexico's 43

Unfortunately, just two weeks after I submitted this article, I had to leave the country due to the events that had taken place on my university campus. It was an incredibly painful experience for me, having to say goodbye on such short notice to a group of people I had grown to love so much, not knowing when I'd be able to return or if they'd ever be able to come and visit me. I also felt so helpless, having experienced first had in the marches just what the state was/is capable of doing to innocent and peaceful protesters, and entirely unsure of what I'd be able to do from so far away.

I wanted to share some of my photos from the peaceful protests that took place over the time I was here, just to give a little insight into the reality of the situation that the Mexican people were facing. The movement was powerful and strong, but above all it was peaceful, yet that doesn't seem to make the government listen, nor does it stop violent actions against innocent people.

About 10 minutes after the last picture, just before the second wave of running as the police stormed the main square. Gun shots, explosions and people panicking like crazy. We continued running for 10-15 minutes more after this (time gets a bit blurred in my head, it was all a bit surreal).

This is how the state reacts to a peaceful movement.

It's quite a weird experience for me now, writing about all this retrospectively. It was all so real at the time, so intense and emotional and yet for some reason, all that has died down so much since December. I was convinced that I wouldn't be able to come back after Christmas, but now here I am, having lived another two months in the country with hardly a word from the uprising that seemed to be upon us just months ago. It's now a running joke that the revolution took Christmas holidays and didn't really revive itself afterwards. I've heard of marches and meetings around university since I came back, but the spirit hardly seems as strong as before I left. Maybe I'm wrong or just a little out of the loop now, but it already feels like everything we went through is now just part of history, stories to tell and not much more. 

I can say however, that so far I have got so much more than I bargained for from what was supposed to be a chilled out year abroad. Experiencing injustice firsthand is something that us white, privileged westerners are fortunate enough to be able to avoid, sometimes for our entire lives, making it a lot easier to turn a blind eye from problems in the world will never really affect us. I have to admit that over the past few years I lost a lot of my 'change the world' spirit, due to growing up and illness and the numbness of the world, thinking that there is SO much bad, that my wanting to be good would never really make a difference. But what happened here really brought that back in me, and it's back with a vengeance. I am yet to figure out just what that means for my future, what am I going to do or who I am going to be, but I do know that I can no longer continue to sit back and just watch.

Sorry for the disturbances. We are changing the country - WORLD.

A Day in Sun City

Today was our first full day in Mexico. We arrived at about 6am to the Hermosillo bus station, jumped in a taxi and headed to set up our new camp at Hotel Washington, D.C. Although we had to wait in our groggy state for about two hours for the room to be ready, and despite the slight mix up of them trying to put us in just one bed, we eventually settled into our air-conditioned twin double bedroom for just 160M$ (about £8) for the night. BARGIN.

Apart from the fact that no one understands any of my Spanish - or my speaking in general, earlier on a taxi driver got a man to translate me when I said 'Hotel Washington', which is exactly the same in both languages... - it's been quite a pleasant yet lazy day. This was partially due to the bus-lag (that's a thing now) and partially due to the scorching 44*C heat. I mean just look at the weather forecast for the week, I don't know how anyone lives here full time. I suppose it's not nicknamed Sun City for nothing.

However between the numerous rest stops for drinks and our first proper Mexican meal of quesadillas and tacos and papas (OK chips...) we did manage to see some of the sights.

Loving our Mexican spread.

Hermosillo seems to be quite an authentic Mexican experience from what we've encountered so far. It would appear that we are the only none natives to the area, or at least that we've noticed seeing as hardly anyone speaks English. We are also starting to get used to being stared at, I'm assuming for our ridiculously pale/bright red skin tones (which will become an awesome tan in time, I just KNOW it) We really do stick out like sore thumbs. It's pretty cool though, to be somewhere off the beaten tourist track.

Plaza Zaragoza is the main square with a cathedral surrounded by beautiful orange trees. We had a wander around there with some super tasty fruit slushies, which Greg decided to have covered in chilli. Unfortunately despite the woman's recommendations, he discovered lime and chilli don't really mix to make the best concoction, especially not in refreshing iced-drink form...

Cathedral de la Asunción.

Palacio de Gobierno.

Blue skies and a big hill that we're thinking of climbing tomorrow. (@greghyne)

Now we're just chilling out in the hotel and considering watching a film to wind down for the evening. It's so hot here that I doubt we'll be staying very long, but hopefully we'll make it out to the zoo without melting tomorrow!