A lesson in letting go of preconceptions.

Butterflies filled my stomach and stayed there for the whole 3 hour flight to Mexico City. I think it dawned on me that I was heading to a 'dangerous' country, no idea of where I was going to stay or live, and only one word of spanish 'hola' to help me get from Mexico City to Queretaro and from there to the safety of my hostel. I asked a man sitting next to me to explain to me how to say "I would like one ticket to Queretaro", this would help later on when buying my bus ticket to city of Queretaro, a 3 hour bus ride from the airport. He was more than happy to help, and luckily for me could speak a little bit of English. I found myself immediately skeptical of this man who was simply interested in my reasons for going to his country and my responses to his questions marked with suspicion and lack of sincerity and interest. Maybe it was because of all the times my parents had warned me not to trust strangers. Maybe it was because he was an older man. But more than that I think maybe it was simply because he was  Mexican. Subconsciously the fears and doubts of all the people around me circled in my mind, overcrowding my thoughts until, eventually I adopted them partly as my own. "Why are you going to Mexico?.. There's nothing there!..Do you know how dangerous it is for a blonde girl...The men will be horrible to you..Don't speak to anyone you don't know..Always be careful with anyone...Trust no-one..." Lines and lines of negativity, of course I could understand why some people would say what they did, but unfortunately these thoughts I would say were a major contributor to my animosity towards this man, who was like most Mexicans, welcoming and eager to help. After going to the bathroom for about the 10th time I reached for my camera which I stored below my seat to get some photos of Mexico city below. It wasn't there. Immediately I expected the worst. The man next to me probably stole it. I was furious, my brand new SLR gone, how could people be like this? The bitter taste of resentment was already finding its way into my mouth. The man next to me was speaking to everyone around him, obviously I could not understand but it seemed that he was also trying to find my camera, I don't like to admit it, but secretly I thought "nice cover up". A few minutes before landing, I stretched my legs as far as I could, trying to get some feeling back into my feet and trying to shake off the nerves. My foot incidentally bumped into something. There it was, happily situated far underneath my seat, my camera, untouched, definitely not stolen. My heart sank and butterflies were now replaced by feelings of guilt and remorse. Who was I to so quickly judge these poor people, who had offered nothing but friendly conversation and comfort. I learnt a lesson this flight. In order to enjoy Mexico I had to come fresh, to rid my mind of the perceptions of a country based on biased American neighbours, sensationalised media, and worried friends and family. Of course, safety as in any other country would always be at the forefront of my mind. But now, I was going to try step off that plane and give Mexico a chance, no expectations, no preconceptions, no inhibitions to slow me down.