A dazed midnight

by Herbert Pereira (Brazil)

I didn't expect to find Mexico

I remember deeply regretting what I thought would certainly be the most dramatic life choice I had made in my entire life. Or was it just because I was too tired? While driving us to a bar where his friends awaited us, my host said to me: “I should encourage you to make the best of your days here, because they’re going to pass really fast.” That’s when I knew I wasn’t going to sleep in the next few minutes even though my brain and body craved it after flying for almost 12 hours plus a 5-hour bus trip from Brazil to the city of my destination in Mexico. After picking me, I thought we were heading somewhere I could rest. But it was my dream come true and I should really celebrate for finally being there, after a long period of preparation and anticipation. I was going to be a volunteer in a foundation that helps poor kids, teach them and learn from them. I was dreaming about leaving my mark in their lives, so they would be influenced to pursue their goals like I once did. So I was trying hard to be positive. In the cold and silent dawn, broken only by the mariachi song playing in the parked car, I was messaging my volunteer exchange programme manager and feeling grateful that she was awake at that time of night. All I needed was someone that understood me. - Oh my god, is he drunk? she asked. - yes, we just came out of the bar and he wants me to go home with him in his car, I texted. - oh, please don’t! Can’t you sleep where you are right now until it’s morning? - I’ll ask him to call me an uber. But please, I need you to change my host as soon as possible. I text, sending also lots of worried emojis. At that point, I was just too frustrated to like him. When the uber came I was afraid that the driver asked me any question that denounced I didn’t know anything about the city nor the place I was heading. My host was driving behind us, and soon we came home. Well, his home. Was it also going to be mine? As he opened the door (not a conventional house door) I saw the silhouettes of chairs and tables and even a kitchen counter. Where on Earth was I? He leads me to the stairs and soon I fall into an amazingly good smelling bed. I wake up the next day slightly dazed with the facts of the last night, feeling the smell of some food that I guessed would be Nachos. As I go down the stairs, I see a lot of waitresses screaming to each other, and carrying trays full of foods my eyes had never seen. I walk to the restaurant and encounter it completely full of people. I’m embarrassed because I don’t know anyone. Where’s my host? - “Hola! Buenos días, bienvenido! What should I serve you?” – one of the waitresses asked me gently. -“Hola, gracias! Hm, I’m not really familiar, could you recommend me something?” - OK, then. I’ll bring you ‘enchiladas’! While it was being prepared my host’s mom came to me, hugged me and said that I should feel more than welcome. She had an aura of authoritativeness that made me feel calmer. After finishing eating I went to the kitchen to meet the restaurant staff and help them face that busy Sunday morning. I soon discovered I was part of the family. They are owner of one traditional restaurant in the city and introduced me to all kind of local foods. They invited me to all of their innumerous family meetings. They provided me with much more than what was expected or required. My host, who soon became my hermano might have been irresponsible on my first day, but he actually had good intentions. I wonder what would have happened if my manager actually had changed my host family as I demanded. When trying new foods, do not judge it on the first bite. It might surprise you and even be one of your favorites.