Adios, amigo

Today my friend texted me that he quit his job in Mexico City, and is going home next week. Reading his message at the roadside stand where I was eating lunch, I let out a loud, American "Oh man" with my mouth full of huitlacoches, which I'm sure my fellow lunchers found adorable.

He's been teaching at an international high school (swank meter: all students AND teachers are required to own a macbook) where he is paid twice as much as his Mexican coworkers for simply being a citizen of the greatest country on earth. One of his duties includes helping kids locate their chauffeurs after class, so they don't accidentally hop into the wrong BMW. Understandably, he is not wild about this arrangement.

I met up with him at an Irish pub to say goodbye, as well as to call dibs on his coffee maker. We split a burger and watched the Rays cream the Red Sox with the volume off, as the bartender's Moby mix provided an unexpectedly awesome soundtrack to the slow-mo instant replays. All of a sudden, I missed the U. S. like crazy.

While I can't imagine leaving Mexico City right now (I JUST figured out where to buy skim milk), I got even more homesick when we went through the list of nice American things he is about to go home to. This included, but was not limited to, The Daily Show, deciduous trees, flannel, and air quality. Sigh [cough].