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It's never too late to go back
Author: John Hobday
Published: September 12th, 2002
Views: 1483
Oaxaca, Mexico (pronounced "wa-HA-ca") is situated half way between Mexico City and the Guatemala border high in the Sierra Madre Mountains. It is a serene and picturesque city of approximately 300,000 people built around the traditional colonial "zocalo" (or main square). It was on the massive gazebo in the middle of the zocalo that I found myself 15 years after my exchange. I was standing with friends, listening to the xylophone-like "marimba" band serenade hundreds of locals walking around the square on a peaceful December evening, the wind blowing in my hair. If I could capture a moment in my life and have time stand still, this would be one of the top ten.

I arrived in this mountainous city in July of 1983 for a year on the Rotary Exchange program. I knew nothing about Oaxaca other than that a friend's mom had been there and said I was very lucky and that it was her favorite city in Mexico. That actually turned out to be a HUGE comfort for a rather sheltered guy traveling alone to a city he had never heard of. My host family was waiving for me from the airport observation deck when I arrived. Five new siblings were waiting for me along with cousins too numerous to count. I was now officially a part of the Ramirez Tenorio family. In most of the approximately 23 Spanish-speaking countries in the world, the family name is actually the two last names of the parents put together. In this case, my host mother's family (the Tenorios) was much larger than the Ramirez family. They were all just "family" to me in any case.

My year went quickly including plenty of travel, improving Spanish, and inclusion in the Abascal Corder family, my second host family. More siblings and new experiences awaited me this second portion of the year. Before I knew it, an entire year had passed by. In many ways, it seemed like a lifetime, but in so many other ways, it seemed like an instant. I bet it was ten years before I didn't think of Mexico and my families and friends on at least a daily basis. Back at "home" in Minnesota, I attended a four-year liberal arts college and majored in Spanish and Computer Science. During my studies I was lucky enough to travel back a number of times to Oaxaca for additional Spanish study. After my graduation, however, my return visits came to a halt. I went back to school yet again for a Masters in Education and taught Spanish for three years before moving into the field of educational programming. Before I knew it, I was married with two children and 11 years had passed by without a return to my second home. But, as the old phrase goes, "It's never too late to go back." Aided by a frequent flyer ticket and Mexican hospitality that will be there until the day I die, I decided in 1998 to make a return trip. I was unusually nervous, for some reason, because I had heard that when you go back after a long period of time that it is "never the same." Well, I did find that to be true, but only for the better. I was able to meet a whole new generation of family. In the eleven years since my return, six of my seven host siblings between the two families had married and all but two had children. I was surrounded by little versions of all of the family I cared so deeply for. It was really incredible.

There were a few things I wanted to "do" while I was in Oaxaca (eat at my favorite taco stand, visit some of my better friends, walk into the downtown area, have dinner at one of the zocalo-side cafes that ring the main square), but it was the time spent with my family that was so special. You never forget them and they never forget you. So what is my advice to all former exchange students? Plan a trip back. It's truly never too late and will be worth every penny you need to spend to get there. I'm already planning my next trip with my kids so the next generation of family can meet.

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