“From Colonialism to Tourism: Five Centuries of Conflict, Conquest, and Resistance in the Yucatan, Mexico.” If the course title didn’t have me hooked on its own, it fulfilled three of my graduation requirements. Four weeks in Mérida, Mexico from mid-May to mid-June, complete with historical excursions and a chance to practice my high school AP Spanish skills? It was the perfect study abroad program for me! After months of paperwork, packing, and convincing my roommate Liz to come with me, I found myself in a new country, ready for my life to be changed.
The first day, I couldn’t believe the heat—it hit me like a gallon of molasses as soon as I walked out of the airport. Then at dinner, I remained nestled in my introvert shell, mostly listening to the group of 10 other Temple students talk to each other. I was so shy I could barely speak up; to put it this way, the first thing the group learned about me was how much I loved the show “Riverdale,” which was all I could seem to contribute to the conversation somehow. I already didn’t feel like I was fitting in with my peers or loving the weather I’d be dealing with for the next month; but it was just the first night, so I pushed through.
The following days, I felt even more estranged from the group as Liz and I quickly learned how on-the-go they were…all the time. It felt like they were on a mission to hit every market, bar, performance, and every kind of outing to experience in a 5-mile radius (which I suppose is what regular, non-introverts do when abroad). Plus, I was learning every time I stepped outside that Mérida was less tourist-y than we were made to believe, and my intermediate Spanish skills were faltering—especially interacting with native, fast-talking speakers. It was inconvenient and a bit frustrating, but I was still pushing through; and then Sunday came rolling around, only the fourth day of the trip. What could go wrong?
Looking back on it, the events of that Sunday feel like a domino sequence from hell. First off, an unexpectedly long walk back to the hotel from a bike tour gave me atrocious sunburn on my shoulders. Then, a relaxing dip in the pool turned into my ear being water blocked. I decided to go to church with everyone even though I didn’t want to, but I felt like I had to join in and be a part of this insanely active group. I wore a pretty dress that I sweat through, and heels that made my feet ache. After the service, I tried to find rubbing alcohol to dry out my throbbing ear canal, but for some reason no pharmacy had it. Let me reiterate—the pharmacy didn’t have rubbing alcohol. I nearly lost it right there.
We get back to our room where Liz notices my somber expression and asks me the fatal question: “Are you okay?” And with that, the wall came crashing down. I barely remember what I said to her through violent, head-pounding sobs, but the consensus was that I missed home, I missed my family, I missed English, I missed normal levels of heat, and I shouldn’t have come to Mexico. She was quick to reassure me that we had only been there a few days, and I was just having culture shock, but I would adjust. I agreed with her, but the thought still lingered that I’d never adjust to the hot weather, language barrier, and my adventurous peers that I was struggling to keep up with.
I accepted my fate, talking to my parents more than my peers and counting the days until I was back home. But as time went on, something beautiful happened. Somewhere under all my self-pity, I was actually starting to have fun. I slowly became enthralled by the history of the Yucatan region through our classes and visits to breathtaking Mayan ruins. When I wasn’t learning I started to explore the city, shoving down my social anxiety and trying to go out as much as possible. I enjoyed musical performances, shopped in colorful markets, and filled my stomach with some of the best food and drinks in the world. Before I knew it, I was calling my parents less and less as I soaked in as much of Mérida as I could over the course of that incredible month—even my Spanish got better!
My most cherished part of the trip, though, was watching my peers become my friends. I grew closer with them every day, over lunches, dinners, and terribly long class sessions. Suddenly, we had inside jokes, like Ryan’s dad is a bee, “Bye Shannon,” and everyone calling me “Dark Morgan” in reference to my Riverdale obsession (remember Dark Betty?). As much as I joke that I wish I brought up any other interest of mine on that first night, I feel oddly grateful that this wonderful group of people gave me a weird nickname based on my objectively bad special interest. We are still friends now, all of us here at Temple, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have met them.
Crashouts and all, I found studying abroad to be incredibly worth it and it is something I recommend endlessly. The culture shock and/or homesickness may creep up a couple weeks in like the guides suggest (or it may smack you in the face in the first few days like it did to me) but you will push through it. Being away from home can be tough, but getting to experience and learn about new places will always be worth any sort of difficulty you may encounter. Human beings have this incredible way of making any place feel like home, even if you don’t feel like you belong at first.