Cuernavaca: Welcome Home

I suppose it’s been over a week since I arrived here and I think I’ve made the transition from scruffy young backpacker to scruffy young exchange student (indeed, I’m still toying with the idea of not shaving at all this semester…stay tuned for updates on that one).

James and I stayed at a guesthouse here for a bit and met some great, great people. It was awesome to realize that I’m here in Mexico for a while and I don’t have to say goodbye all the time like we did when we were traveling. James left on the second day and is safely returned to the states. I was sorry to see him go because he’s quite a good companion on the road and it signified a change in the style of adventure. Before, I was free to move as I pleased, do as I pleased, for as long as I pleased (sounds quite selfish, huh? ), now I was shackled to Cuernavaca (CVA). I hoped very much that I would like the place.

On the 29^th, I called my host family to ask when I should come over. Now, my ability to understand Spanish had skyrocketed since crossing the border, but making calls in Spanish is a whole different ballgame; there are no nonverbal signals—no lips to read, no facial expressions or hand motions to interpret. With a little help from their son Isaac who speaks pretty good English I told them I’d be there soon.

When I stepped out of the taxi I could tell that this was to be no ordinary home-stay. I don’t know if Mexico has a Beverly Hills, but if it does, that’s where I’m staying. I was greeted with utter warmth by the dad of the family, Juan Manuel, and ushered into the house. The abundance of flatscreen TVs, the domed cupolas, and the pristine pool in the backyard told me that this was not your average Mexican family. I quickly realized that living there would not be your average Mexican existence, but I quickly decided not to complain about it. For the first half hour Juan Manuel and his bride, Aurora Ortiz, kept saying things like “Estas en tu casa, estas en tu familia” (you are in your house, you are in your family). I felt almost too welcome.

I went to check out the lay of the land and came back to a full, tasty meal. As I finished up, my roommate came in, direct from Burlington, NC. Scott had just graduated a few weeks prior and was coming down to practice Spanish and have some fun before entering the “workforce.” A really easy-going fellow from the South and eager to speak Spanish instead of English a lot of times, he’s been a fine guy to live with.

Tuesday morning, we headed up the long hill to one of two “Tec de Monterrey” campuses and confirmed our status of “estudiantes internacionales.”