The Path we Walk

It has been little over eight years since I left my home country behind to come live in Canada.

Back then I remember thinking that this was an opportunity unlike any other — I would get to study and live in a country where I did not have to be constantly paranoid about everything. Albeit a beautiful place, Mexico is not altogether relaxing unless you are one of those who decide to settle in the touristy areas: Facades obscuring underlying problems. Problems that can be felt in every other part of the country, as simple as making sure no one is following you as you walk, and as complex as making sure no one has flagged your house to be broken into.

Canada has a very different selection of problems: Construction is heavily controlled  by a few individuals, so it is made to not last and in order to be redone every day, and every other day the subway stops for longer than it should and people complain about it. Not undermining the bigger problems the country has, such as life expectancy among certain communities, or the fact that the country itself is being pressured into building pipelines to transport a limited, outdated resource that can barely turn up a profit in this day and age.

The big issues with both countries, those that every single citizen has to deal with on a daily basis, are separated by an abyss of wretchedness and general weirdness.

My partner often realizes the problems that some people have to deal with as I describe very simple situations such as I like the fact the power doesn’t go out at least once a week or a few more complex ones such as I was just making sure that truck was not following us.

Life here is relaxing, and in all honestly has spoiled me in a way that I am finally able to focus in the subjects and tasks that really interest me, such as being able to fulfill my professional needs, or saving up to buy a new bicycle. Tasks as simple as cleaning up the apartment to that it looks more refined and cozy fill my days as of late.

Often I get asked by people that I know if I would go back, or more precisely, when I am going back, and every time I deny that such a thing would happen — although deep inside I wish the world did not have to be like this.

Deep inside I wish that every person out there could feel what I feel and experience life as I experience it: In a way that I can enjoy every moment without dreading what could be lurking in the next corner.

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