Often when people think of Mexico, they think of Cancun or Tiajuana, or increasingly, of the violent cities of Ciudad Juarez or Monterrey. When I came to Mexico City, I was astounded by its beautiful parks and incredible historic architecture.
In 2010, after a year and a half of job searching, I moved to Mexico to teach English. I love my job. It feels great to have something to offer that is useful and enriches the lives of my clients. I teach executives who often answer to people in New York. Not only do I teach them English, but I try to help them develop the cultural skills to navigate their interactions successfully. In spite of what is seen in the news, Mexicans are a very gentle and sensitive people. I have been pleasantly surprised when the norm among my bank executive students is to be socially engaged and aware. While my job is professional, I make what is considered a starting professional salary in Mexico, so money is something I have to consider carefully, and smoking just costs too damn much.
Here, I can eat a healthy vegetarian diet for $2.50 a day, all the "beans, corn and squash" I could want.
I have a safe place to stay. This is the view from my window:
But smoking is just not in the budget.
Some of you may know that during the last month my situation changed, and I had to quickly leave an abusive home environment where I was increasingly isolated and the abuse was escalating. I'm a little sad because I had a small language school in my house where I taught extra classes on the side and a 12 year old Border Collie named Jesse who was recently adopted. I had to leave her behind. Here she is in the school:
Quitting smoking is something that I have postponed, or failed at recently, due to stress at home. I used smoking as my shield from my partner. When I would quit, even when it felt right and good, symptoms of PTSD would become debilitating. Being now in a peaceful situation, that should be much much better. I want to ride bikes again.
I also want to meet the world openly, without worrying about dry mouth or bad breath or stinky smells, like the folks in this clown class in the park.
This is where I go to relax. It's a Spanish monastery around the corner from my place with a quiet little park, and just a block away from the urban jungle.
Thing is, in Mexico, people sell single cigarettes on every street corner for 30 cents. This was great when I was cutting down, but now that I am quitting, every time I walk by a cigarette stand, it will be necessary to remember, and to CARE, why I am quitting.
There is sometimes a disconnect between what I tell myself I will do and the compulsion to have "just one more". I want to leave behind the cycles that make life harder than it has to be.