So I spend a lot of time on this blog mulling over lessons I’m learning, feeling grateful about the life I lead, and sharing the highlights of travel with you. But this whole full-time travel thing isn’t all cream puffs. Sometimes, as you know, things go horribly wrong. Other times, places just aren’t as enchanting as you wish they were (I’m looking at you, Barcelona). And still other times, you find yourself in a place that you really like…but there are a few things you wish were different.
I guess it’s like relationships. You have to decide if the flaws of your place are something you can live with or not.
In the case of Mexico, I’m glad I gave it a second chance. I’m glad to be here now. I’m happy for the zip line adventures and the warm, sunny days, and the cheap tacos. But there are a few things that I could definitely do without. Like the yucky fungus Luna got as the summer season started. Or things with stingers.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Here are my five least favorite things about Mexico in reverse order:
5. Chichi (which sounds way too close to Gigi) is slang for boobs.
Yeah. Have a chuckle. Sometimes when I introduce myself, people think I’m saying “hi there, my name is ta-tas,” which is simultaneously weird, uncomfortable, hilarious, and appropriate.
Luckily, only two scorpions have decided to attempt to live in my house and neither of them stung Luna nor myself. Nonetheless, they’re not my favorite feature of the Mexican landscape.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen a flea before. We didn’t really have them at Denver’s elevation and while I checked Luna throughout Europe, I never saw a bite or a bug. I prefer not treating Luna with crazy chemical poisons (which is what flea prevention meds are) unless it is necessary, and in Mexico it’s most definitely necessary. Even though I immediately treated Luna for fleas, I keep finding rogue bugs on both me (eww) and her (also, eww). Apparently they die when they bite her (that’s how the meds work), which is why I only see one very occasionally. But still, gross.
Worst. Bug. Ever. And they really, really like living in my house. No matter how often I pay the lovely woman down the street to scrub it from floor to ceiling.
As you’ve probably guessed, this one is a deal breaker. Not only do the people here think it’s okay to strap razorblades to the feet of starving, neglected roosters and cheer as they fight to the death, but there’s a massive gambling problem centered around the practice. People bet their homes, their cars, their livelihoods on these matches. On the gruesome death of a tortured and starving animal.
And this isn’t just an isolated problem. It’s everywhere. There were cages of roosters at the zip line course. My neighbor’s property is teeming with them. And when there’s a match, everyone goes out to watch.
Oh, Mexico. I both like you and dislike you. Everything else I can put up with, but cockfighting combined with mass gambling addiction? Yikes.
Ever visited a place that you simultaneously liked and disliked? And/or does your name mean or sound like something totally inappropriate? Discuss.