My Apartment in Mexico

I have had many homes, and they’ve all been special. My room in the Mile-end had blue walls out of a fairy tale. My apartment in Kurtulus had a walnut tree by its balcony. My flat in Cihangir had French doors with tinted azure windows. My bedroom in the Plateau had actual pillars for a princess. 

This departamento is a vast change from all these sweet little buildings that had character. The others had stories seeped into its walls. This one is brand new. Maybe I’m the first person who has ever lived here. I get to draw on a blank slate. 

My apartment is on the tenth floor, and looks straight at a mountain. I call it my mountain, and maybe someday I’ll give it a name. Silken layers of light fall on it throughout various hours of the day. I like to see it change the way it dresses depending on the hour, the weather, and the fog. I get lost in its textures of green, golden, and purplish-earth. Right now, it looks like it’s releasing a great, big cloud. An omen. 

My (GAS!) stove has six burners, guys. SIX. Do you understand the gliding sensation of abundance my chef heart is feeling? This is the first time I’ve had more than four stoves, and usually only two work well - if I’m lucky. No more negotiation amongst the pots and pans as I'm making dinner. No more "taking turns" for anyone. They're all simultaneously doing their dancing and simmering in their own private spots.

I got a sleek black kettle to sit on the top right corner. Oh - and my tiny-ass fridge has a water dispenser. I can save the ice for cocktails. The luxury!

It’s an open concept, and the living room has floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall windows.

Well, that’s not totally accurate: The “window” on the left is actually a sliding door extending out into a balcony that can fit 15 people easily. And out there, is where you can see Queretaro’s most beloved treasure: its sunsets. 

I actually have a lot of complaints about Mexico. I’m not entirely happy living here. But its skies are not one of them. The sun sets every day. Yet, each evening, it feels like a new one.

The apartments here often have a bathroom per bedroom. When I have visitors, they have a bathroom all to themselves. 

Typing that out reminded me...I have an extra bedroom. *Gasps in adult*. What can I do with it? When the real estate agent was showing us, she said, "You can use this for..."

"Whatever I want!" I completed her sentence. "I can cry in there, if I want to."

I haven't yet decided what I want to do with the extra room. Of course, it is convertible into a guest room. But it can also be an art space, or where I do yoga and meditation? (I don't do yoga and meditation). Or a movie room.

Either way, it feels very powerful.

Do you remember I mentioned that the building is new? This is new for me. My floors - wood in the bedroom, and grey tiles everywhere else - are always clean. I’m not used to this privilege, either. That I mop the floors, and then if I wipe it with a wet fabric, the result is actually white.

Everything takes ages in Mexico. I still have furniture missing. I have my eye on these lamps from Marketplace. But until then, the recessed lights are a soft yellow. I got lucky. Most of Mexico - like most of Pakistan or  most of Turkey or most of the non-rich world - have that ugly white light.

It's 11:06p.m. The traffic in the highway has died down. I've become deaf to it, anyway. There's a full moon tonight, in the sign of Pisces. It's kind of been a theme: people with Pisces moon have a hard time finding "home". Or they've had many. Let's see what I do with this one.