Ten Reasons to Fall in Love with Mexico

Photo courtesy of Kevin Borman

Given the current context of life in Mexico – especially the sometimes exaggerated and sensationalist way events here get reported in the foreign media, (fear and panic about the swine flu pandemic preceded by bloody accounts of violent confrontations in the so-called ‘drug wars’) – it might seem strange at first sight to be writing a post with this title. Perhaps, however, it is important to offer a different view of this rich, complex country.

My first visit to Mexico was at New Year 2003 for a few days in Puerto Vallerta to see my son who was spending part of his gap year there. My second visit to Mexico was for two weeks in August 2003. In those two weeks, I fell in love with a Mexican women with three daughters living in Guadalajara, and was offered a job at the regional campus of the University of Guadalajara in Ciudad Guzmán.

For the following year, I came and went between Mexico and England, taking classes in Spanish, and trying to secure the job offer that had been made to me. Eventually, it took two years to secure a contract of one year. In September 2004, I left England and moved to Mexico with the intention of making my life there. This intention has persisted, though my relationship with the Mexican woman I fell in love with has changed from partners to friends.

I liked Mexico very much initially. I had always wanted to live in a non-western, ‘different’ culture and Mexico fit the bill perfectly.

Circle of Identities

Last weekend, I went with a friend to visit her cousin and other members of her family who live in Uruapan, a very typical Mexican city in Michoacan, about 260kms east of where I live. Uruapan is usually known as the principal region in Mexico where avocados are grown and exported, though it achieved notoriety in September 2006, when armed men burst into a night club in the town, and rolled five severed heads on to the dance floor. This was the first major incident of beheadings which has subsequently become more common in the wars between the different drug cartels.

My friend’s cousin, Salvador, and his wife, Aline, run a delightful, small (only four guest rooms) bed and breakfast in the heart of the city, called the Casa Chikita.

Salvador is an artist.