I'm sitting in the Mexican Immigration office.
In the center of downtown Guadalajara.
Time to replace my FM3 card.
Almost time for summer vacation. T-minus seven days.
Turns out my residency card will expire while I am back in the states.
Because I've been in Mexico for a year.
Well, roughly 15 days short of one year.
Life in a different country. A different language and culture.
One year of teaching preschool. One year of everything new and a lot of things hard.
Of tacos and tears and sometimes churros. Of many Mondays requiring fresh mango from the nearest glorieta.
Of avocados in abundance.
One year of growth.
Of walls and pride and ideas about myself-about God-about my calling, all collapsing around me.
One year of tying dirty shoe laces and fighting to keep it together moment after moment and day after day. Of countless dark mornings forcing myself out of bed with tears closer to falling than I would like to admit. Of trying to make sense of after school meetings in Spanish.
One year of throat infections and eczema flare ups. Of walking home beneath the blazing hot, heavy sun.
Of forever green and eternal summer.
Of heart thumping moments with garafons and waterless, shower-less mornings. Of lesson planning and nauseated bus rides.
One year of trying to become a green thumb and a little bit more of a minimalist.
One year of friendship and family and community found.
In my school.
In my church.
In the hearts of beautiful people from every corner of the globe.
One year of birthday parties and card games and celebrating whenever we had a reason and even sometimes when we didn't. Of quiet evenings in and adventuring together.
A year with stolen wallets and still so much gained.
Friends for a lifetime
Year in Mexico.