A few years ago I got a tattoo on my back. I put in on my back because I did not always want to see it. But I knew it was there. I got this particular tattoo, having never particularly wanted a tattoo, of the metro stop Cuauhtémoc, which is located in Colonia Juárez, which is located in Mexico City, which is located approximately two-and-one-half-blocks from my first apartment in the city. And I put this on my back not because of my enthusiasm for public transport (which, believe me, is very real) but, instead, to remind me to do the scary things in life. I was so terrified to move from Texcoco. (Anyone who has lived in Texcoco will recognize the irony in this statement). I did not know how I would find an apartment or meet friends or navigate such a daunting mega-city. But once I made that big, scary move, I saw how easy it was. How is was actually much easier than my life in the violent, semi-urban-periphery.
That move was a good one because I fell madly in love with Mexico City. So I got that tattoo to show my commitment, my adoration, my appreciation to a city that both schooled and mentored me while sharing its chaos and old buildings and traffic and scenes straight from a Lynch film and scenes straight from a Tarantino film and hilariously wonderful/intelligent/crazy/kind people with whom I have had the distinct honor of piling into cabs and then piling back out when the driver reveals he wants to charge double. But I also got that tattoo that I never thought I wanted because I knew one day I would need to be reminded, once again, to change. To do the scary thing that I already knew to do. And so I leave behind the city that I love so much with a permanent reminder that I may not always be able to see but that I will always know is there.
That move was a good one because I fell madly in love with Mexico City. So I got that tattoo to show my commitment, my adoration, my appreciation to a city that both schooled and mentored me while sharing its chaos and old buildings and traffic and scenes straight from a Lynch film and scenes straight from a Tarantino film and hilariously wonderful/intelligent/crazy/kind people with whom I have had the distinct honor of piling into cabs and then piling back out when the driver reveals he wants to charge double. But I also got that tattoo that I never thought I wanted because I knew one day I would need to be reminded, once again, to change. To do the scary thing that I already knew to do. And so I leave behind the city that I love so much with a permanent reminder that I may not always be able to see but that I will always know is there.
