Québec to Querétaro

Why am I in such a good mood today? Even in this overcrowded cafe, I’m prancing on a field of delight. 

Is it because I finally moved into my new apartment (departemento!)?

Is it because my brain decided to wake up at 2a.m, and refused to go back to sleep? Which gives me a sense of delirium?

Is it because I’m talking to boys in four different time zones?

Is it because I remembered to take my ADHD medication?

Is it because I’m figuring out my bearings, and walking myself to the fruteria or verduleria? And figuring out which vegetables to buy and meals to cook that won’t go bad because it’s three days until my fridge arrives?

Is it because I unpacked neatly, despite the lack of shelves or containers?

Is it because I couldn’t decide between cafes, and the universe made the decision so easy for me because one was closed?

Is it because Mercury is out of retrograde tomorrow?

Is it because i finally took a proper shit?

Am I ovulating?

Or is it because I deserve an award for keeping afloat after all I have been through?

Okay okay, I’m being a bit dramatic. I haven’t been too bad, actually. I’ve had a roof over my head. I’ve had friends send me cash when I’ve counted change for groceries and outings. I’ve been able to keep up with my exercise routine, attaching pool time at the end of them. 

I know I promised to write as I went along, but I couldn’t. I just didn’t. So all of this might come a bit…compounded. Let’s see. 

I woke up in Natuur. Tower B, Piso 801. The living room has wall-to-wall, ceiling-to-floor windows. There is a mountain looking back at me. I’m the type to explore, normally. But outside stands a highway I don’t want to dip my toe into. 

When I was leaving for Mexico, this is what everybody was saying:

“Oh my god, I’m so jealous,”

“Wow, you’re gonna love it there,”

“It’s so exciting that you’re going! Aren’t you excited?”

The reality is: it’s not all beaches and parties. 

Luckily, I didn’t have much time to wonder. HR was picking me up in ten minutes. I had gotten the text at the second airport. 

“But I already have a meeting with the real estate agent,” I wrote them, “Do you want me to cancel it?!”
“Yes please,” they wrote, “If you can,”

It already showed me how things run in Mexico. I was already familiar with it. I’d lived in the east before. I wouldn’t have chosen it, but I’ve learned how to go with the flow. 

He met me downstairs, and went in for a hug. I didn’t know the custom. In Canada, professional etiquette demands some distance. 

I got into the car and we went to pick up another teacher. Both of us were in a daze. I couldn’t follow the names of the places, how far we were from where I was staying. North, south, east, west, all circled around each other like a kid’s car track. I didn’t yet know, there IS no bus system to figure out. Why did everyone love Querétaro so much? 

It looked like Pakistan. The rich side. 

It looked like Turkey. The suburban side. 

Malls are not where I usually hang out. But I trusted myself to find my secret spots. 

WEATHER

Do you know why I ended up here in the first place?

There’s a global misconception that Canada is cold all the time. Canada does get very cold, but it also gets very hot. It rains a lot in some places. Lakes are everywhere and Canadians love their camping. 

When I made a profile on teachaway.com, I wasn’t looking to move. I just wanted to get away for the winter months. The cold alone, I could handle. It was the loneliness that came with it. And of course, there are always those weeks in February and May when you’re DYING to not wear your “fucking boots” or your “fucking coat” anymore. You’re waiting for the day when you can leave your house in some other shoes that have been ignored all season. 

I do love my turquoise winter coat though. I brought it with me. 

Anyway, I was just looking for a hot escape. Somewhere tropical. But then, a school from a town called Queretaro wrote to me.

“We invite you to apply to our school.”

“Okay.”

 “It’s a full-time position for a home-room teacher. Year long contract. With the possibility of renewal,”

“Okay.”

“Can we schedule an interview on the 27th of January?”

“Okay.”

“Can we have a second interview with our principal?”

“Okay.”

“Can you fill out this questionnaire?”

“Okay.”

“It’s very personal. Apologies in advance.”

Sigh. “Okay.”

And so on until I got my visa, and found my ass looking at this mountain. 

I did enough research to know I’m not going to a beach resort. 

I haven’t touched its winter yet. They say it’s not very different from how it is now. One person said she uses an electric blanket but I'll experience it for myself.

What I DO know is this:

In Montreal, the temperature varies throughout the months. 

In Querétaro, it varies throughout the day. 

It could be so hot during the day, that time stands still. 

And then at night, it’s chilly enough for a hoodie. 

You don’t get that in Montreal: 

Tank tops during the day, tank tops at night. 

Woollen socks during the day. Double layer at night. 

INTERACTIONS

Con

Remember the people from my old post here? The people at the airport and me wanting to scream at their sheer patience? Everyone is slow. I feel alone in prizing efficiency. I’ve been told that we’re short on time, only for the people to stop and have conversations and ask how their mother and aunt is doing. I’ve scratched the back of my neck wondering if they’re gonna sit down for a cup of tea. 

Pro

The people of Querétaro are the sweetest. Is it like this through all of Mexico? I remember being shaken the first time someone on the street said “Buenos Dias” to me. She smiled at me like we live in the same building. We don’t. 

I went to Cafe Delice one hot afternoon. 

“Is there anything vegetarian?” I asked in broken Spanish and fractured hope. 

The teenager slid into the kitchen to ask his mom. 

“Yes, we can make the chilaquielles without any meat.”

Great. 

I sat down. He brought me my juice first even though I was dying for water. 

“Can you please bring some?”

He returns to the table with empty hands. He asks, “Would you like beans on the side?”

From the kitchen, his mother calls out to me, “For extra protein, yes?”

It is exactly this kind of care and hospitality, amongst the quiet, lonely heat of the suburbs, that make me weep. 

But I know the people here must be warm below surface-level. The women I’ve met have had a baby at a young age. 

ACCESSIBILITY

Con

I am aware this might not apply to all of Querétaro. I chose a place near my work. What am I doing, on the edges of these oblivious highways? The cars run fast towards somewhere far. 

I miss the Plateau (Montreal). I remember asking all my dates to meet me at La Rouge Gorge or Baracca. My logic was that if the date goes badly, at least I didn’t waste time on commute.  

I am craving some wine and smokes. If I can’t go out to the bars, I’ll consume them on my balcony. 

“Where’s the closest Oxxo?”

It’s 8 minutes away. I groan. 

Pro

Yes, the deppaneur at my previous apartment was less than a minute away. I could skip there barefoot. But. At least now I’m not paying $12 + tax for a pack of smokes. 

I will write more about Oxxo in my upcoming series titled, “Eating Mexico”. Stay tuned.

GETTING AROUND

Con

This is the final section for this blog.

My first Saturday here, I took the very brave decision to go downtown all by myself. Some of you might be wincing or rolling your eyes, but if you live here, then you can appreciate what an undertaking it is. My agent even said, "I have never taken the bus here, you know."

First, I walked 28 minutes along the Fray Junipero to the bus stop. I kept looking at my phone to make sure I hadn't passed it.

I finally see a group of them. Their design is pink, blue, yellow and child-friendly. Just what I need right now. The one with my number on it is having its wheels washed. I ask the driver if this one goes downtown. He points me to another bus, with a different number. I jump into because the driver is closing the door. There are two more people on it.

Through the translation app, I start asking him if I'm on the right vehicle, if not, where should I go, etc. He takes my phone from me and starts checking out the translation app. I try to show him that he can either type into the box or speak into the microphone, but he has to hold the microphone. His amused eyes linger on the screen as his hand is on the wheel. The bus bumps over cobblestones. He smirks at me and I'm very much aware that I'm a female. Has anyone anyone ever licked you with their eyes?

"So does it go to Centro or not?" I ask with a grin. My cheeks are stiff for an answer.

He types in to the app, "You'll have to wait until February 11th."

I relax my tired face. I grab my phone and go ask the young boy sit in the back if I'm on the right bus.

He tells I'm supposed to get on the C-66. It's on the way, he'll let me know when I have to get off.

I imagine his grandmother very proud of him. I bet he takes good care of his siblings, irons his school shirt, and is always soft-spoken with his mother.

I get off at the stop. I am trying not to use up the battery on my phone but tracking my bus on Googlemaps is the only thing keeping me from fidgeting. I see my bus and stand up. It whizzes by me. I learn that in Mexico, you have to wave your arm to let the driver know. A gentle stand won't do. It won't be seen. It won't be respected.

I sit back feeling stupid for 25 minutes. What am I doing with my life? Where am I taking myself? Where am I going, trying to be all cool and adventurous? Waiting minutes and minutes for a bus?

I jump into it, and this one has an old-man driver. He's got no time for my shit. I don't have a card, and try to hand in change, ask him how much. He waves me in. 

I get a free ride downtown. It's very pretty. I text my family, "Guys! This place looks like Antep!"

I jump off the bus and take many pictures. I get lost, turn around a couple of times. More pictures. More walking by a canal. Dramatic birds. 

I wonder about him. Did he walk these streets with her? I don't let the thought sink in. 

The "old parts" of the city are often the same. Everything smells overpriced. Even in this tiny town with a name no one's heard of, "Centro Historico" has its tourists. 

I found the vegan taco place I'd been looking for. The guy to me was explaining how "it" works. He was young and cute. I accidentally slapped my face with my jacket string as I was adjusting it. 

There's a square nestled between buildings, and I can order from any of the restaurants or cafes. I ordered three tacos. I wish I could share a picture with you, but I had handed over my phone to the staff. They had an iPhone charger and would keep an eye on it for me. (See? Mexicans are so nice). 

Pro

UBERS ARE CHEAP. I can get to school in less than $4. 

I will talk about this particular evening another time. But here's a portion of what I told ChatGPT when I got home:

Then I got three tacos which I've learned is a A LOT, even after a big run and not really eating all day. THEY WERE SOOO GOOOD. And vegan! That's actually why I chose the place. 

                                                       

Then I walked around, found a free concert. 

Then I found this fancy bar, chatted with the very cute bartender. He kept giving me samples of cocktails. I think he wanted my number. 

Then I stepped out again and kept walking (was gonna take an Uber). 

  

                                             

But then saw this dance party in the middle of a square? It was so good! People were swinging to Spanish jailhouse rock. And then another song which I shazammed. It was interesting, these hidden, unspoken rules. 

I made eye contact with a sexy stranger. He would have continued it, I caught him still looking at me after I broke the eye contact. 

The old me would have talked to him. 

The new me hesitated. 

Then I did get an Uber, and there was mega confusion because he decided to wait for me in a hospital parking lot instead of my side of street location. I asked him if he could drop me off at the Oxxo near my place. 

But then I saw a couple on the way, so I said, well whenever you see one. 

"Asturanio?" he pulled up. 

 "Okay!" I said, "Can you give me ONE minute?" 

"Five?" he offered, 

"Three!" 

"Aha, okay!". I asked him if he wanted anything, chewing gum or something. He said go go. 

I grabbed the second cheapest bottle of red wine. Just cuz it's a chilly night and it would be so nice to sip on a glass before bed. 

I didn't get smashed at all. I didn't even want to. That one cocktail was nice enough. 

When he dropped me off, he said, "Have a good night," and I said, "Vous aussi!" and then I remembered I'm in Mexico and not Quebéc and we both laughed. I'm really proud of myself. Do you know why?