A Place Beyond Familiar
When the plane touched down in Guanajuato, I felt a rush of relief and excitement. BWI to ATL had been uneventful, and the comfort of First Class, while indulgent, didn’t exactly make the journey feel momentous. It was just a bigger seat, better snacks, and the quiet privilege of stepping off the plane first. But the second leg, from Atlanta to Guanajuato, kept my stomach in knots. Just think when I step off this plane I will be in Mexico.
The plane itself felt like something out of another era, worn leather seats with creaky armrests, and a dull roar from the engines that gave me pause each time we hit a pocket of turbulence. Pressing my forehead to the window, I watched as the familiar hues of blue and green gave way to the ochre-tinged landscapes of Mexico. There was a quiet magic in that shifting view.
Thoughts of why I didn’t do this a long time ago would run through my head. And all I could think was it wasn’t your time, you are where you are supposed to be at the moment in your life. But, I keep hearing that voice in the back of my head saying “You did ask, so you did not receive”. I’ve come to understand that in the moment of conception, the request is granted, and again you reach out for it, take it make it yours, or you pass it by and reach for something else. But the universe always supplies and never judges.
The relief I felt upon landing was about more than touching down. This was my first time out of the country, and crossing that invisible line from one familiar territory into somewhere completely new was nothing short of surreal. It was like walking in my truth, I can accomplish anything I set my mind to, some things take longer than others, but yes it is achievable.
At customs, I had my first taste of what it meant to be in a place that didn’t conform to me. The officer handed me a form to fill out, the instructions printed in crisp, unfamiliar Spanish. I looked down, suddenly very aware of my limitations. The words were incomprehensible to me, foreign not just in language but in every implication of what it meant to be in another country. I was vulnerable here, and a sudden wave of anxiety welled up. I hadn’t anticipated just how isolating it would be unable to communicate. With paper in hand, I found a table I could work on filling out this form.. A familiar feeling fell over me, this is how immigrants must feel when they arrive in a foreign country. I’m not stupid, I can read and write, I just don’t know how to in your language.
I was able to muddle through completing the form. I was then directed to one of the processing windows. I handed the office behind the desk form he greeted me pleasantly, and asked me why I was in Mexico I said visiting. He then asked me how long was staying I said 180 days, and he replied with a nod and said; enjoy your stay in Mexico, stamped my passport, and waved me through. I walked down the long corridor that seemed to go on forever. And finally, I sprung from the shadows into the main area of the AirPort. Standing amongst the many people traveling to and fro. I had to stop and take it all in. Standing among people who don’t look anything like me. Dressed in their authentic clothing, going about their everyday lives. Now I was going to experience what that looks and feels like.
Ready to embark on this journey with open arms I proceeded outside to the taxi stand, hell how hard could this jump in a cab tell the driver where I was going, and I was good to go. It was a good thought, but it didn’t turn out exactly that way. As I proceeded to flag down I cab. I was instructed to go back inside the airport and purchase the ride at the Taxi Kiof inside.
This would be a familiar theme in Mexico, pay first and get serviced later. I guess I had to adjust my way of thinking and operating. After telling the woman at the counter where I wanted to go, she informed me that it would be 400 Pasos about 29 USD. I made my first monetary transaction. She handed me the receipt and explained the address and where I was going, it was printed on the receipt along with the number of the taxi that would take me to my destination. I thanked her with a hard Buenos Tardias. I went outside to find my cab.
Quick Pic’s and Gallery
365 GEAR UP
