Cultural shocks

There is no such thing as culture shock going from Mexico to any other western type country, wait until you go to Japan and don’t find a proper “throne” to put your butt cheeks on while you pee that, my friends, is a culture shock.  

I will never forget the first thing I was told in my very first encounter with an Australian by myself: “Mexico? Breaking Bad!” Instant reaction to that: “That’s in New Mexico… USA.” Of course he tried to be witty about it: “Yeah, but that happens in Mexico too, right?” Well, I can’t blame foreigners for not knowing crap about Mexico because honestly, not even we know what the hell is going on in our very own country. 

Every single Mexican paisano that has had the opportunity to go abroad, knows the typical stereotypes we all face out there. I was asked  “where’s your sombrero?” as I unpacked all my stuff in my new room; but it’s not all so bad, I could not get tired of listening to people’s stories about the amazing views, beaches and encounters they had had while visiting Mexico because despite it all, let’s face it, it is pretty great. Nevertheless there are a couple things people should know about Mexico, let’s just call it general knowledge guys, it doesn’t hurt to know that stuff.

I am not going to lie though, there is something about going abroad that does feel kind of strange every single time, it is a mix between excitement and fear when you're headed into the unknown. You get on that plane and after some hours you get off on a country with a language so different from yours that you just think to yourself "what in the world am I doing here?" as you follow people out of the plane because of course, you don't understand where to pick up your luggage. 

Because of my dad being a big planning freak, I usually get everything before I go somewhere, hotels, make sure there’s metro to move around and get to know three cents about a city before I get there. That is so impossible to do you don’t ever wrap your mind around it until you are actually there. It so does happen that you forgot some minor details and realise it is 23:30, you just arrived, you didn’t change currencies, phone is half dead, wifi is crap and with three bags on you the airport’s floor is looking pretty comfortable.

This is what I am talking about, this was happening when I arrived at Narita airport and I just thought to myself “my dad was right about this; of course he can NEVER know that I am thinking this so I have to pull everything I have on me together and get my butt to that hostel because I have an 8 am Shinkansen to take to Hiroshima." 

That kind of life experience cannot be got anywhere or any other way. Culture shock arrives later though, when you finally arrive as tired as you can be to that hostel, open your room’s door and voilà, there’s no bed. A flat mat with a flat pillow and a couple of blankets are your most desired bed at your most tired moment.

To really get an idea of what I believe cultural shock is, I had to wander off a few times. I have met people that get so homesick and depressed, they stop enjoying themselves and their vacations. There are some others that don’t get to realise the whole wonder of the place they’re in; I don’t really get this last type of people. Coming back from a semester abroad in Australia I could not have been a more different person than the girl who had left six months earlier, everything is different when you get back home, even though it has actually stayed the same; you just have a very different set of eyes to look around and percieve it. On the other hand, I have talked to people that say they haven’t changed, everything is the same and they couldn’t wait to get back. That is an unknown type of cultural shock where people just don’t stop to see where they are and appreciate it, grow with it and learn, they just get stuck thinking about home and everything they’re missing out on instead of living on that moment right then and there. 

Embrace it, everything. Wearing thongs to school because it’s hot (flip flops people, not underwear), eating things made out of yeast because straya, or maybe something with a name you can’t even pronounce because the Japanese love those weird names on their food. There is nothing more exciting than getting to know a different culture so different from what you are used to, getting out of your comfort zone and getting acquainted with change and new people bringing a different perspective to your world. Make the best out of that culture shock.

Getting started with life

“I’m going to do it” I said to my friend. “I’m going to save money for two years and I am going to travel the world.” 

You know when you were young and dumb and had all those big dreams about life? Now you’re 23 and looking for a job because you have to pay for petrol and food and your dog’s food and it seems like all those dreams are flying, more like jumping, out the window. Well it isn’t until a certain point in your life where you realise all this time you have been on autopilot, it is very common in our society, and I mean particularly Mexican society, to follow a path and if you don’t follow it, you are in one word: a weirdo, “why are you 26 and on your 3^rd year of college still?” “Why do you have a job as a waitress, yuck!” and many many more, you shouldn’t take time off to think about what you want from uni, you have to start college as soon as you finish high school or six months later at the most, and God forbids you want to have a part time job as a waiter/bartender because believe me if you have the misfortune of running into one of those so called “friends” you’re dead meat. 

My point is that I believe that the people that go on and choose to study a degree that they actually like, are lucky, when they get it on their first time right of course; it is safe to say that I am not one of those lucky people and sadly I realised that I had it wrong when I was about to finish and so I am going through with it, all the way. It will make me feel great if at least one person realises the same thing but earlier and chooses a better path by the end of this log. 

I am so lost that if I had the opportunity to start over a new degree at age 18 and with all this experience, I would choose my same degree yet again, so not very keen on starting a new degree at the moment. Chemical engineering has taught me a lot, it has been more like a way to process and solve problems, I may not ever use Aspen or those horrible differentials which I spent years trying to understand, but it has sure shaped my brain into a way of solving problems that go beyond calculating the stationary states of a set of equations. I have heard people say it’s a “disappointment” that I won’t graduate top of my class, or that I am fool for not liking my degree, that I should already know what I want to do with my life because the clock is ticking and I am not getting any younger. But, I am only 22! It is pretty cool that people knew what they wanted to do since they were first able to talk. I used to think I’d be a vet, and then a biologist, then a surgeon and of course that never happened, not knowing what I want to do may be scary and may be even foolish, but after all this time, I just realised it is okay. 

I want to be really cliché here and talk about dreams, life and the amazing experiences and growth I have achieved in only two years, I feel as if though almost no one dares to talk about this kind of thing anymore, people just tend to like a post on facebook with an inspirational quote on it and feel good about themselves because they are going to do that and change, but they never really do so.

I consider myself to be grandma mental person because it sometimes feels like I skipped a part of my life growing up too fast having to take care of myself, doing groceries and paying bills at age 10. In the end that has made me into who I am today and I actually appreciate it. Nevertheless the grandma in me has had some serious setbacks on ejoying life sometimes. Backing up to when I was 12, one good summer day, I packed my bags and took my very own solo flight out to Toronto, CA. A whole month by myself, no parents and only new people to get to know. I am not going to lie here, I cried myself to sleep like a baby for like two or three nights because I missed my mummy, but as life gives you very hard lessons, you have to get up with a smile every day and go make some new friends. That was quite a month, and after that time abroad I could not wait to get back out there again. 

In Mexico there is this big tradition when girls turn 15 years-old, quinceañera. It’s a tradition of how girls were introduced into society as eligible to be married off with some gracious bachelor; only that in our modern days well, people just throw a big fancy party with a Disney princess like gown, it looks more like a wedding, except no groom and instead 4 or 5 of your cousins or friends dancing in circles around you, a night with you as the centre of attention, so every woman’s fantasy right? Well I guess all those years my dad had me sitting in front of the TV watching football and tennis had finally payed off because as soon as I turned 14, the last thing I wanted to do was get in a dress, cover my face in make-up and feel it fall off later with all the sweat from the heavy dress I’d be carrying around. I have never been much of a girly girl anyway, and as relieved as my dad was that I didn’t want any of that, I was excited to take on my second great adventure this time across the Atlantic to celebrate my 15^th birthday. 

There is no feeling like getting out of Trocadéro metro station, walking a few steps, turning your head and seeing the Eiffel Tower for the very first time, standing there so proud and big, I mean the tower, because by that moment you just realised you are this little thing in the world and you just keep feeling smaller and smaller. That is not just it, the Roman colosseum, the leaning tower of Pisa, the Vatican, this list could go on and on, point being that I have come to realise how hard it is for us to actually catch on how incredible this world is. Not trying to get philosophical here but, there is a very small amount of people that take a minute apart from their busy lives to appreciate the beauty of a mountain on a clear day. 

Anyway, it was by the time I was walking around the streets of Madrid with a paper map on my hand that I realised I just loved the feeling of getting lost and having to wander through life with no clue of what is going on and eveything ahead waiting for me to go get it. Amazingly enough it wasn't until I was very well set into my twenties that I started getting the point of life, that I actually started living it they way you´re supposed to instead of just following a bunch of terms set by society. It's okay, late bloomers aren't missing out on anything, I actually believe we're able to enjoy just a little bit more. Making mistakes make us wiser through time. Perhaps I'll discover what I want to do with my life later on. How are we supposed to decide on a four year degree that practicallly defines the rest of your life at age 18 when we aren't even allowed to wear colourful sneakers to school, that's just idiotic.

The typical interview question "where do you see yourself in five to ten years" is the perfect way to actually get a hang of whether you are on the right path or not. Being able to notice and accept that you have made a mistake takes a lot of introspection but it takes even more courage to seize it and turn it around to what you need in life. It will never be too late to start over. Listen to what your subconscious has to say, meditate about decisions and get to know what you don't like or don't want from life and turn your back to that, you will soon be facing what you actually love but didn't know you did before.