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I'm remembering my last night in SF after the 2015 tour and comparing it with this, my last day in Mexico. I'm writing this at a bar that I'll likely never visit again (though this time I'm actually paying for the drinks, and they're more expensive), it's the end of a life-defining period (though this one I wasn't ready to finish), and I'm left considering my future (though now I've had less time to reflect given our abrupt evacuation of Mexico). 

Three days ago I was in Mexico City loving my life. My relationships at and outside of work were flourishing, I was steadily acquiring Spanish, I'd just moved into a bigger, nicer place, one with a double bed and TWO sinks, I had just bought garbanzo beans at the market to try my hand at making hummus, MGMT was playing Puebla that Tuesday (last night), and I had tickets, Rob and I were going to spend a week in Cancun over Easter vacation, and I was becoming a better teacher. We were entering the prime of our service and everything was going according to plan. Then the plan was thrown out the window. 

Rob called me Sunday night and told me that Peace Corps had ordered a global evacuation. I dismissed as chisme

(gossip) then because I didn't want to believe it, but it was confirmed the next day (Monday), I had a plane ticket to Harrisburg yesterday (Tuesday), and I'm currently at Houston Airport writing this (Wednesday). During the 2015 ride across the US, we had nothing but time to think about the end. For three months we thought about reaching the Pacific and letting it's cool water sanctify our effort and resolve. This time I had less than three days to consider, accept, and welcome the end. Nine months of emotion plus a year and a half of unfulfilled ambitions were crammed into less than 72 hours. The product was very ugly. 

I spent my last night in Tepexi where I spent my first night, with my amazing family. La familia Aranguthy, Benjamin y Malena, sus hijos Eduardo, Perla, Benjamin, Korah, y Elba, y sus nietos Lourdes, Lalito, Íker, Vale, Regina, y Esther. Here's a genuine impression of Mexicans, one you won't hear from people who don't know the country--Mexicans are loving, hospitable, generous, compassionate, fun, amazing people. They started out as my host family but we ended as real family. Our authentic relationship arose from my needing them and their willingness to embrace me as one of their own. Without them I would've been lost in Tepexi. 

Continued at home Friday, March 20, 12:00 AM

Tuesday was spent walking around campus and trying not to cry as I said my final farewells to all of the wonderful students, faculty, and staff at TEC Tepexi. Korah and I took the combi to school. Íker was with us. It was his birthday. Kiki had been my compadrito since day one. I could see the sadness in his face and wanted to cry. I couldn't cry, though. I had to be strong for him. Korah told him to give me a hug and say goodbye. We walked to school hand in hand as tears came and fell from my eyes. 

 Three flights later I landed in Harrisburg, where I was met by my parents and June. My mom tried her best to balance excitement for my being home with a consciousness of my disappointment and did just fine. Dad was terse as usual but the emotion in his embrace did all the talking. Gram came and saw me when we got home around 11 last night. It was good to be at home and around family who missed me so much, but there presided a feeling of unbelonging as I sat on the couch far from where I'd been that morning, far from where I felt I needed to be. Now over 24 hours being back, I feel lost, like there's something I should be doing but also like there is nothing to do. I'm in a sort of limbo where I can't go back and am not moving forward. Life here seems unreal and like nothing else exists beyond the walls of my oldest home. The cold and rain make Mexico even further away. 

I wasn't ready to leave Mexico. It was all too abrupt. But three quarters of a year is enough time to make lifelong friends and family, base yourself in a new language, and grow exponentially as a person. But three quarters of a year is not enough for me. I will forever look back on this stay in Mexico as unfulfilled, despite how full my heart is with love, memories, and admiration for our neighbors to the south. These feelings of incompleteness may draw me back someday, but right now I'm on a different path. And though I'm excited to see where it leads me, it's as if I was dropped here by accident.