Quests Abroad

Many chase a second passport for global mobility. While that plays a role in my application this year, the deeper truth is I feel more at home in Mexico than I do in the US. I grew up in a big midwestern family. Yet, it is in Mexico where I have found love, community, and a culture that feels incredibly familiar. I have built a life I am genuinely excited to wake up to every single day. For me, getting the Mexican passport and becoming a citizen is about officially belonging to the place that became my home years ago.

Most people photograph Bellas Artes from the outside and, at most, wander in for the Diego Rivera murals. My suegra and cuñada went to the ballet there this weekend, and I learned something I never knew. The stage curtain is made of glass. Almost a million pieces, made by Tiffany’s in New York. Together they show Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl at the center of a Mexican landscape. The building is also slowly sinking, like most of the city. It has dropped about four meters since it opened in 1934. A glass mountain range inside a palace sinking into a lakebed. Somehow that’s the most Mexico City sentence I’ve ever written. Next time, I’m going with them.

Waited an hour and a half for Expendio de Maíz this weekend. It was my own fault. It sat on my list for years, and I waited until it was on every influencer's Mexico City list. I had their take on a memela, huarache, panucho, and esquites. Worth the wait? If you're visiting, absolutely. If you live here or have eaten your way around Mexico, maybe not.

Even Amazon knows how integral chisme is to Mexican culture

"Me da hueva" might be my favorite phrase in Mexican Spanish. My suegro calls me out every time I say it. He laughs and tells me I love that phrase too much. He's not wrong. Sometimes "me da flojera" would be a little more appropriate. But hueva captures the feeling perfectly. There's no English translation that scratches my brain in the same way. "I can't be bothered" is close, but it misses the full-body exhaustion of even thinking about the thing.

Some Facebook Marketplace sellers here would rather trade. "Acepto cambio" turns a purchase into a strategy game. A kid listed his scooter and was open to an iPhone. My opening offer got a "nah bro," then a counteroffer. He called me bro in every message. Didn’t get the scooter, but I was entertained trying.

People are really embracing the season this year

"You need to work on your storytelling skills." That's what my mom would say to fill the silence after one of her six kids told a bad story at the dinner table. Even when I was 6, she held me to the same standard as my oldest brother, who was 21. It's obvious when someone is a good storyteller, and when they're not. There's a structure to it, but not everyone gets taught what it is. Now I tell stories in Spanish and the structure is the easy part. Finding the words for it feels like being 6 at that table again.

My first home in Mexico City was a room I found on Airbnb in a fashion designer's apartment. The mannequin in the hallway made me jump every time. It was in La Roma, but the version where brunch didn't mean an hour-long wait, back before you needed a reservation anywhere. I know I was part of the wave that changed the city. I just never washed back out to sea. I stayed and became an immigrant, not a visitor.

Heard a new recording on a fierro viejo truck today. It threw me off a bit. Is that a market where it pays to stand out, or is everyone just waiting for the next truck to roll by?

Need a confidence boost? Learn Spanish and move to Mexico. Here, compliments are part of everyday life. Here you go, guapa. What would you like, hermosa? After you, amor de mi vida. (I only hear that last one at home)

A rainy early evening in Mexico City

I've only been to Tulum once. It was 2018, and I stayed and mostly ate in town, where everything was reasonably priced. We went to a beach club once and that was enough. The crowd chasing a luxury, bohemian experience was already there. Now it's the internet's cautionary tale, while Sayulita and Cancún keep going. I think it comes down to identity. Sayulita still honors what it started as. Cancún owns what it is. Tulum tried to change, and it didn't work.

Nobody taught me to roll a tortilla up tight instead of making tacos. Bite of guisado, bite of tortilla. I picked it up watching locals eat. With chicharrón en salsa verde, it's the best way to do it. That's a lot of what moving to a different country is. You're a kid again, learning the language, the customs, how to move through a new society. You learn it all by watching and listening.

Friends from England are honeymooning in Mexico next year and asked me to look over their itinerary. I love that I get to point them toward the places, meals, and moments I love most and hope they fall for this country the way I did.

In Mexico, when you get up to grab something from the kitchen, you ask if anyone wants anything. Walk into a room, say buenos días. 
Walk past someone eating, say provecho. Each one struck me as refreshing when I first got here. Now they're just part of a normal Tuesday. I used to call it Mexican warmth. Turns out it's just manners.

As a kid visiting Mexico, the peso was worth about 10 to the dollar. During COVID, it spiked past 25, the weakest it's ever been. Now it's settled around 18. I've watched that number rise and fall, a byproduct of being an immigrant. Not once did it make me think about leaving. This is home. I'm just along for the ride.

Squirrels in Mexico City are on another level

The day after Thanksgiving in the US, you'll hear, "who wants leftovers?" and you eat them meal after meal, sometimes for days, until they're gone (or you're sick of them). The day after Nochebuena in Mexico, that activity has a name: Recalentado. Everyone comes back to eat what's left and just be in each other's company. It's a word for that closeness, not just the meal.

My friend makes a salsa that's incredible. Every time I have it, I tell him he has to send me the recipe. He never does. I bring it up again and he says the same thing: "We have to make it together. I'll show you." Recipes that used to be written down have turned into estimates and habits. Un poco de cebolla, unos chiles, pon todo sobre el fuego hasta que estén... Estén qué? Estén listos. Nothing is measured or exact. The best recipes come with the experience of learning them.