There is a certain cognitive dissonance that comes with living and working full-time in an international city famed for its tourism. This dissonance grows when for the last three years myriad friends have visited the city and returned, glowing, with stars in their eyes and stories of enraptured admiration.
In the weeks leading up to Mexico City, I could hardly turn my head without another friend telling how much they love the city. “It’s my favorite city”; “blew me away”; “I’m so jealous”; “the perfect place.” With these phrases came lists. Lists of restaurants, bars, museums, architecture, and can’t misses. In the moment, and even today, I’ve been grateful for these overtures and recommendations. So imagine my surprise when three weeks into living in Mexico City the most easily referenceable feeling I could muster was stagnation. That despite my best efforts, in CDMX, I would always come up short. It is a feeling born from expectations, comparison, and reality.
Nearly every list, gasp, and phrase has come from someone who has come to Mexico City for a short, time-bound trip. Three days, six days, ten days. Regardless of the time, a brief vacation is incomparable to the continuation of a nomadic but consistent life in a new—and foreign—city.
Upon arrival, I was immediately gripped with two easily identified, easily defined, and interconnected fears. The first fear, consistently felt in every new city since we left DC 22 months ago, was that we would not do enough to fully understand, experience, and capture this new city. The second fear—innately tied to the first—was that by living our “normal” lives, we could never come close to the heights that CDMX has to offer and that have been so lauded by those who’ve been before. That by simply riding the tide of our standard life, we would find ourselves over the span of six weekends having spent just twelve days exploring this city like tourists in short bursts of delirious energy.
Over the last two years I have learned that no six- or eight- or ten-week stint in a city will ever allow us to fully understand the place and to expect such is hubris at its finest. This is the basis for the third fear. From the moment we booked Mexico City we knew it was the final destination in our life on the road. Not only would it be our last city, it was an intentional step beyond the norms of previous travel – our opportunity to take life international. That by coming here we were to create a Great Send-Off; the pinnacle of all we’ve tried to achieve in our time without a home. That in CDMX, a glorious city of art and food and architecture and history, we could widen our arms and envelop a city, ourselves, and the journey we started nearly two years ago. The fear, of course, is that this would not—or could not—happen. That, by definition, we must continue to live our lives as we know we must, with all the formalities brought by jobs, daylight, sleep, workout schedules, and the natural limitations of the human body.
Thus, it is the fear of reality, and the root of stagnation. In layering the uncertainty of the end of travel with a maniacal grasp for completism, the only feeling that can emerge from the bounds of reality is stagnation. As I layered expectations one upon the next—praises of the city, lists of twenty bars and thirty restaurants and forty activities, the desire to use these six weeks to exceed the lists I’ve read, yearning for a Great Send-Off—an impossible dreamworld of ceaseless awe and sailing serotonin sat forefront in my mind, legs dangling playfully over its horizon. In truth, the reality of life, its quiet focus, necessary repetitions, and hot afternoon sun have pulled me, like a floating balloon, back to solid ground, a place whose gravity is incongruous with the expectations of dreams.
And yet, I love it here. For the first time since McKenna in 140 S St, Kat and I have a permanent roommate. We’ve taken this trip and are living this life with McCabe, and for our most frequent visitor to no longer be a guest but now an enduring co-conspirator is a welcome and wonderful addition. In McCabe we have not just a dear friend but also a kindred spirit – a friend who is as curious of the world around us and as driven to ingest as much of it as possible.
Inspired by McCabe and to fight the feeling of stagnation, in our third week I took a moment to write down how we’ve spent each day since arriving in CDMX. This included cataloguing each activity we’ve done, as well as jotting down those times when we did nothing – when we stayed up late to work, when we stayed in to heal our flu-infested bodies, and when we chose to retread well-worn paths for their beauty, availability, or damn good tacos. This was in part an effort to force reflection as much as a challenge to recall and give credence to every small or large act and decision that has formed the fabric of our lives in Mexico. It was an eye-opening experience that achieved exactly what I was seeking – my fears of inadequacy and stagnation have faded, re-emerging occasionally as a light squeal rather than a full-bodied roar.
Rationally, I’ve known it impossible to do every recommended activity or to live the life of 24/7 vacationers within the bounds of working reality. But thus far, we’ve carved a path that reads more of play and joy than stagnation. From morning lifts to neighborhood walks to restaurants to museums to becoming recognized locals at bars (perhaps not the greatest impression to have left with James and Meredith, when Luca and Dani welcomed us with (literal) open arms at Less is More and Tlecan), we have merged the reality of life with action intended to mitigate the fear of just that: reality.
There is more to come, but it is clear why this city is so beloved. It is a city of energy and passion, of art and architecture, of nature and development, of food and drink, and of immense history and contemporary development. To define Mexico City is to misrepresent it, and to capture its essence is to ignore its multitudes.
I intend to bring more of this city to the page but know this is no simple task.
Pictures are just from Jan 19 - Jan 28
