Covid in a foreign land, pt. 1
Wellllp, it happened. I got Covid.
Yes, I’m vaccinated—two shots of Pfizer, baby! Anyone remember hot girl summer? No? It feels like a long time ago.
To add to the fun, I’m in Mexico City. A couple of weeks ago I moved all my stuff into storage in Portland and hopped on a flight down here to the homeland.
Kidding. It’s not really the homeland. But I did spend a year living here up until COVID “hit” in March 2020. I fell in love with Mexico: the people, the culture, the climates. The waves. Not that it’s uncomplicated. I’d originally planned to move here in April 2020, but you know the rest.
So. After 18 months of avoiding Covid, gathering steam and getting my ducks in a row, it was time to send it—once again—back to MEX for the season. This time, Mexico City.
Before leaving, I met up with my very talented friend Nick (@Galaxe_official) at a Portland food cart. Over some dank Mediterranean curry and sushirritos, I told him my fears: how my excitement was burning, but the anxiety was gathering, too, like a flame and hot candle wax.
It went like this:
Will I make friends?
Will I find a decent place?
Will I manage to get all my electronics down in one piece?
Will I be lonely AF?
Nick nodded, listening.
Then he looked at me and was like,
“But Kelsey, don’t you like this? Don’t you always do this, and kill it?”
“Hmm,” I thought for a moment. “Yeah. You’re right.”
It was settled.
All moved in
Mehh- Hee- Coooohhh
So on October 2nd, after a day of frantic, stressed packing and moving everything, I woke up at 4 a.m. and crawled onto a flight to Mexico City with a carry-on, a huge roller bag and a backpack.
My plan was to hole up in a coworking/coliving space (U-Co is AMAZING and owned by my friend Marco, in case you’re interested) while I looked for a more affordable apartment to sublet for a bit.
Here’s how things went:
After one day, I met an awesome new lady friend from the Bay (Hi Jamie!).
After two days, I found two beautiful rooms in a 4BR/2BA apartment down the street from U-Co for $420 a month (give or take 😉) for me and Jamie.
After ~4 days, I felt like I’d already made friends for life.
After ~7 days, my social schedule was filling up, and I’d seen some absolutely killer music.
Jamie bailando en a gay clerb
And theeennnn *cue tires screeching to a halt* after 8 days, I started feeling kinda weird.
Heart racing.
Palms sweating.
Mild freakout in my brain. 😬
I was walking around Condesa with my boy toyz (jk they’re just amazingly sweet and adorable guy friends) Julian and Luke when suddenly, I felt like I was gonna pass out.
We were sitting at a charming outdoor table, ordering drinks, when the world started closing in.
“Ummm, guys I think I might need to take an uber home. I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”
Julian put a hand to my forehead.
“You feel a little hot,” he said in his Argentinean accent (swoon). I focused on my breathing and told myself that maybe between, Idk, the Mexican football game, a night out clubbing til 6 a.m., and one pretty boozy date night, I probably partied a bit too hard that weekend.
In and out. Innnnn and outtttt, Kelsey, do NOT pass out in the middle of the street in Condesa on a Sunday afternoon, you dumb GRINGA! You used to work at SHAMBHALA , for fucks sake! You’re a pro! Snap out of itttt!
Eventually I made it home, and slept for 10 hours. I figured it was a bad hangover.
But then Monday night rolled around, and I still felt… weird. Like I couldn’t quite wake up. And I kept feeling these waves of heat where I felt a little feverish, a little nauseous. I attributed it to the partying like hell™ hours I’d just clocked.
Julian, me and some of the football game crew
But theeennnnn Tuesday came, and Wednesday. I started getting the sniffles, and couldn’t sleep at night, but was relentlessly tired. Was it a cold? COVID? Altitude adjustment? I had to be sure. I tried to get tested Wednesday, but to no avail—I booked a test for Thursday afternoon in Roma Norte, my neighborhood.
It had to be a cold, right? These things used to happen, yo! I used to always get a cold every season. I didn’t know anyone else who was sick.
So, like the irresponsible citizen I am, I speed-walked to the gym late Thursday morning, feeling pretty good but also a little tired (dear SmartFit Roma Norte, I am so very sorry). Then I sent it to the covid test right after. 😬
My plan was to get through another workday Friday and then start moving (finally!!) into my new, adorable, light-filled room in Roma Norte over the weekend.
*Cue the tires screeching to a halt once again*
I was still working feverishly (ha) Thursday afternoon when the results popped into my email. I clicked the attachment nonchalantly, nbd, but then my heart leapt up from my chest, out of my mouth and straight onto my computer:
FUCK!!! Welp, this changes everything…
To be continued…
