Migration taught me endless lessons of survivance and life. I had always dreamed of living abroad and being able to reinvent myself. I love to travel, meet new people, and experimenting through new adventures, so my mentality was that if I studied abroad, my whole life would be a journey.

           Due to coincidences of destiny and opportunities of the moment, I decided to study for my bachelor’s in Budapest. I had never been to Europe, so I saw it as a light of hope to try out that dream.

            The months before I left were insanely hectic, full of goodbyes, and making peace with leaving everything behind to start over from scratch. For most of my time, I was surrounded by my whole
family and friends, doing what I couldn’t do for one last time. I was extremely happy and grateful. I felt more excitement than fear, although my body was telling me otherwise in the form of acne, something I had never been through. What I felt at that time and that stayed with me for most of the time was completely
bittersweet.

            I had never been independent. I remember my last chilaquiles at the airport with my parents, sister, and grandma, how
strong the last hugs were, and how we all cried oceans as I passed through the security check. I didn’t know when I would see them again, how my new house would be, my university, my flatmates, anything… The song that determined this new chapter of my life was Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears for Fears and to add more dramatism, just when the plane was about to take off.

Welcome to your life.

There’s no turning back.

It’s my own design

It’s my own remorse

Help me to decide

Help me make the most

Of freedom and of pleasure

Nothing ever lasts forever

Everybody wants to rule the world

            My flight was extremely long with the first stop in the United States, where due to my obvious defense mechanism of not being able to bear seriousness, I had to make a joke at customs. It was completely not worth it. Honestly, I am a very dispersed person and since I had several currencies because of my savings, in between dollars, Mexican pesos, and euros, I lost track of how much I was exactly carrying. While the officer was checking my documents and passport, he asked me:

“Mexican… Do you have in your possession more than 10, 000 dollars?”

“Ja, I wish”, I answered while I stupidly laughed.

The officer of migration, besides lacking charisma, kept my documents and sent me to a confined space.

Shit, Alessandra, this was completely unnecessary.  I was very stressed because now I was delayed, I still had to document the rest of my suitcases, and I didn’t know for how much longer I was going to be kept locked up. I must emphasize that my stop was in Miami, so you might imagine the length of the lines. After a while, I just had to prove that I was a student. The airport was massive and I had to pick up my bags to document them again, but they were on opposite sides. I was running, yes, me. I was very scared of losing my flight, until an angel, Royce, helped me with my luggage. He also scolded me for making a joke. On the second flight, I decided to watch one of my favorite movies: The Grand Budapest Hotel by Wes Anderson. I needed to convince myself that I was making the right choice and that I would love my new life. There were plenty of signs, just not enough.

            When I arrived at the airport in Budapest, around 12:00 A.M., I had very good luck: my luggage was destroyed and packed in plastic, and some of my things were in boxes. I realized the cold humor of Hungarians when I tried to file a complaint. My taxi was waiting for me outside with loud techno music as if he were at a rave inside the car.

            The pandemic seemed to have disappeared in this city and it was still 2021. There were plenty of young people
everywhere and without facemasks. It was bizarre and exciting. As soon as I arrived at my apartment in Imre Utca, a five-minute walk from the Great Market Hall, the tenant was waiting for me with the keys. She showed me around and explained all the necessary stuff. All my flatmates were out, partying, except for one. I shared my flat with three Germans. There will be another post on sharing a flat with people from different cultures and ages, as well as establishing boundaries. Anyways, to my surprise, the first thing that he asked me was:

“So, if you’re Mexican, do you speak Mexican?”

We talked for a while and then he left. I decided to make my room my new home and started unpacking.

            The reason why living abroad stopped being an idealized experience was because it taught me to feel the crushing weight of loneliness and being able to hug the discomfort of being in my own
company. I decided to migrate by my own choice and not in a forced manner from a position of privilege; nevertheless, that does not mean I didn’t have to make many sacrifices. I understood what it meant being from anywhere and nowhere, as
well as living with a divided heart. I dealt with the guilt of leaving my family behind and letting them grow without me, just as I was going to grow without them. The whole time I felt an uncontrollable nostalgia of being far away from my friends, with whom I had an unbreakable connection that was built in the lapse
of at least 12 years. I still had a diverse group of beautiful souls around me in Budapest, but I was without my net of emotional support. I didn’t have anyone that really knew me so I could be vulnerable and feel unconditionally supported. It was extremely hard to be my real self for multiple reasons: I didn’t speak the language, I couldn’t be loud and silly, there were a lot of cultural differences with the Hungarian society, I didn’t have a Latin community, the weather was devastatingly cold and grey…

            By leaving, I lost a version of myself that I will never be again, as well as my way of leading with change. I had a puzzle of my life that took me 20 years to put together, just to break and
bind the pieces again. I was used to reuniting with most of my family members, more than 20, every Wednesday to share pozole and gossip. I saw my best friends almost every day, where we had amazing plans and shared the same humor, as well as similar lives. No one ever asked me where I was going and at what time I would be back, if I came home to sleep or not, which was extremely bizarre for me. I sacrificed my own entrepreneurial business of Petography, where I even had an investor that believed in my vision and wanted to expand it with different ideas and projects. Nevertheless, I found faith in feeling connected by constantly talking about how much I loved Mexico and the people that had been part of my life, my traditions, my routines, and my culture.

            Even though I lived exceptional moments and met wonderful people, there was a point where my decision of living abroad stopped making sense. I hated my university and my career, I didn’t like my work, most of my friends had left, I couldn’t adapt to the killing cold of Hungary and the social environment, and I despised being in a long-distance relationship with all of my loved ones. I started to hate myself for becoming a negative soul. It made more sense for me to come back, although I only had one more year before graduating. I realized that my dream stopped being a dream, and that version of myself at that moment had transformed itself into a nightmare. Honestly, I don’t regret it. I deeply believe that there are no wrong or right choices, just choices that lead to different paths. The most profound lesson that I learned was to be at peace with whichever I chose.