The Six-Month Countdown

I’ve decided that here in my part of Mexico, we have two seasons: the season when water enters your apartment (the rainy season) and the season when you have to sweep up dirt coming through your windows every day (the dry season).  My kitchen ceiling still bears the scars of the rainy season, but we are clearly back in the dry season, as evidenced by the constant, thin layer of dirt inside my home.  It’s kind of weird (and kind of comforting) to know that I will not have to pass another rainy season here, only because I hope to never live in fear of constant indoor flooding again.  

When you hit the half-way point as a volunteer, it’s natural to start looking at your time left and perhaps initiate a countdown, no matter how much you love your post.  I was doing a pretty good job resisting that until I went to the US for 6 weeks.  Upon my return, I was suddenly very aware of how little time I had left (only 6 months left in my 27-month service).  

You can see my new pump in the blue bottle, which I can no longer lift to put into it's special pouring device (i.e. where the orange bottle is now). 

Water damage on my ceiling. It looks a lot worse in person. 

Ok, dropping 5 eggs between your stove and counter is not unique to Mexico but it was uniquely difficult to clean up. So. Much. Yolk. 

There’s definitely an element of anxiety associated with the countdown, mostly related to money, health care and the loss of daily access to fresh, homemade salsa and tortillas.  As I lay in bed at night, my mind starts racing with thoughts like these: 

• OMG, I have no source of income, no car, no possessions, no place to live, etc. as of May 27, 2018.  
• What if I can’t find a job? 
• What if I can’t find a job for a really, really long time? 
• What if I can only find a job in a place that is far, far away from my family?
• What if it’s a job that pays like $60k less per year than my last job? Is that ok?   
• Should I start looking for a job now? 
• What if I get offered a job before the end of my service? I really want to stay till the end.  But what if that’s the only job I ever get offered again? 
• Will I be able to afford health insurance without a job?  
• How am I going to see everything I want to see in Mexico in the remaining months?  
• Would it look bad on my resume if I just traveled and lived off savings for a few months after my service ended?  Can I afford to do that and pay health insurance?  
• How am I going to get all this awesome stuff I've accumulated out of Mexico with only two suitcases weighing 50 pounds each?  
• Oh god, what was that noise? Was that inside the house or outside the house?  
• Ahhhh! Something just touched my hand!!! It's a demogorgon! Oh wait, that was me.
• Is that a tree limb shadow in the window or some new, giant breed of killer lizard that can open windows and wants to eat my brains?

You get the picture.  During the day, I can usually keep those thoughts at bay as Mexico is always offering distractions.  This past week I got to meet two employees from US Consulate who are stationed in the closest big city.  They had a meeting with our town’s mayor and then found me at a local restaurant – where I was dining with 20 other people – for a quick hello.  They were both dressed in linen suits which was definitely out of place for our small mountain town, but they were also both very friendly.

My large lunch took place with project partners and funders from France and Mexico City.  I’ve never seen so many different types of local cheeses, cookies, beverages and treats heaped upon a more grateful group of people.  I personally found my new favorite cheese during this fete.  It’s called “queso borracho,” which literally translates to “drunk cheese,” but translates in your mouth to delicious, non-alcoholic cheese that should be spread on blue corn tortilla chips and eaten every day.  I imagine it would be extra awesome if eaten while listening to mariachi music, but I had to settle for street tacos when I went to a mariachi gala in the town plaza earlier this week. 

That's me telling some of our project partners who I am and why I'm here.

You can see my beloved queso borracho in the back. 

Those "empanadas" are filled with a kind of gelled milk filling. 

 Enjoying the music of an all-female mariachi band.

A few days later I arrived at the office to find that we had no running water.  Apparently, the gardener left the water on in the backyard all night and emptied the big tank of water on our roof.  Thus, whenever I needed to use the bathroom that day, I had to walk about 5 minutes to the closest public restroom and pay for the privilege of peeing.  And every day since I’ve returned, I’ve had to navigate a never-ending maze of sidewalks and streets currently under construction, which does not make for the best commute to work for someone who recently had back surgery and really, really does not want to twist anything or fall.

That door you can see is for the bank and it's still totally open for business. You just have to step over/around all this stuff. 

Sooooooo much sidewalk construction. 

So there you have it - with 6 months to go I'm obsessing over what I'm going to do with my life, trying not to fall while walking around town, and working really hard to stay mentally focused in the present.  I know that everything is going to be fine and I’m going to find another great job in a great place, close to the people I love, at exactly the time I want it, but if you also want to tell me that/put that out to the universe, that can only help ;)