Tacos, Markets, and Everything In Between
Oh my... the tacos. I don't even want to know how many I ate this past year. God bless Mexico and the incredible food I had never tasted, or even heard of, before moving here. The culinary diversity is so rich that calling it all "tacos" almost feels unfair. Every region, every family, every street stand seems to have its own traditions and flavors. And the funny part is, I've barely scratched the surface. Most of my food adventures were in Jalisco, while I know places like Guadalajara and Mexico City open up an entirely different world of Mexican cuisine that I still can't wait to explore.
Thankfully, my taco anxiety is officially gone. (Some of you may remember the post I wrote about that.) It was a real thing! I'd walk up to a busy taco stand where five locals had already ordered before I could even read the menu. Everyone knew exactly what they wanted while I was still trying to figure out the difference between one meat and another... and wondering whether cow tongue was about to end up on my plate. Then one evening something unexpected happened. A family of tourists looked just as lost as I once was, and for a brief moment I got to help them order. It was such a small interaction, but I remember thinking, Wow... now I'm the one helping someone else. That felt pretty special.
More than anything, though, I'll remember the markets. They reminded me of being a little kid, walking through crowded markets with my dad. The loud conversations, the organized chaos, the smell of fresh produce, the colorful stalls, and people who actually knew the names of the vendors. Somewhere along the way, I had forgotten how much I missed that. California gave me beautiful supermarkets with perfectly arranged organic displays. Mexico gave me something different. Something real. A vibrant neighborhood market just eight minutes from my home where shopping felt less like running an errand and more like experiencing the heartbeat of a community. And if there's one thing this entire series has taught me, it's this: moving to Mexico wasn't just about changing countries. It was about rediscovering parts of myself that I didn't even realize I'd left behind.
Thank you for reading these 10 posts, for sharing your own stories, and for allowing me to share mine.
