MeXscape

We knew from the beginning we were going to have to improve our Spanish skills past “que hora es?” and “donde vas?”. We could order in a Mexican restaurant and ask where the bathroom is. Just enough to maybe get your point across as a tourist on a very short trip. Neither of us could really communicate. As many times as we’ve complained about people around here not speaking English: you know, the arrogant “If you’re going to live in MY country then learn to speak MY language!”, we figured there was no way we could respect ourselves if we went to live in Mexico without speaking Spanish.

I was talking with Chuck and the subject of our impending move came up, like it does several times a day. It’s one of our favorite topics. We are both pretty much suffering from anticipation illness. Chuck said something about moving in a year, and I stopped. That’s the timeframe we always talk about. Right then it hit me: we’re not talking a year anymore. It’s 10 months.

So we were originally thinking we were going to take up residence in the central highlands near a lake. This is because we both love the water and I hate the heat. And the humidity. Really, really, really hate it. In the summer here I get fussy and a little hard to live with, and I tend to hide in the air-conditioned indoors as much as humanly possible. It can take a crowbar to get me out of the house. There are many problems with this, but the biggest is that I like being outside.

The most common question we have been asked when we say we are moving to Mexico is, “Why?”, so I thought I’d gather some of our reasons here. It’s not actually a top ten list, that just made a catchy title. These are in no particular order.

So far, the hardest thing we have had to deal with is the reaction of friends and family. Responses have run the entire spectrum from brutal to beautiful. My mother said, “I’m not coming to visit you.” That’s it. One flat statement. Nothing else. I have tried to broach the subject a few times since, but she definitely does NOT want to talk about it. We got an almost identical reaction from Chuck’s grandparents: “oh? We won’t visit you. Have fun.”