By: Caroline Kambrich
When I was 14, I spent a month living with family friends in Monterrey, Mexico, as part of an informal exchange my mom and her longtime friend had thoughtfully planned. They had stayed in touch since school, and when they realized their daughters were the same age, they decided to create a learning experience that would allow us to be fully immersed in a different culture, something we might never get the chance to do again.
So there I was, with my old beat-up Jansport backpack at Gate 9, waiting for my flight attendant chaperone while I looked for my newest download on my iPod nano (does anyone else remember those?) Travel itself didn’t feel intimidating, but the moment I arrived in Monterrey, it was clear I was stepping into something entirely new. There was the language barrier, unfamiliar foods, social customs…my butterflies were going. But the family I stayed with was warm, incredibly welcoming, and made it feel like a home away from home. I had my own room with a beautiful balcony overlooking the hills the house was perched on. I would wake up in the mornings to the delicious smells of breakfast, lifting me up by my nostrils and carrying me down the stairs. Spicy sauces to pair with my eggs, herby potatoes with fresh tomatoes, the housemaid would be standing in the kitchen cutting up a giant braided wheel of cheese with the biggest knife I have ever seen. Even the simplest snacks tasted amazing. To this day, I still struggle to enjoy refried beans anywhere else; they never quite compare to what I had in Monterrey.
Food was always at the center of everything. At the mall, vendors sold bags of crunchy, puffed snacks with rows of sauces and toppings to choose from. You’d pour in the sauces, seal the bag, shake it up, and finish it off with additional toppings, spicy, crunchy, and creamy all at once. Whenever we had a party or went to a family gathering, the food was always center stage. This was one of the many things I loved about being there, that food and family all blended together. You simply could not have a proper gathering without a huge spread. It brought comfort and warmth to an already jovial environment.
Our days were filled with family activities: hiking, shopping trips to the mall, long afternoons at the beach, mariachi-filled birthday celebrations, overnight trips to nearby cities, and meals at new restaurants. During the week, I volunteered at a special needs camp for underprivileged children called Unidos. Despite the language barrier, the experience was deeply rewarding. Helping, laughing, and sharing joy didn’t require words, just patience, kindness, and a smile.
This experience was far from the average 14-year-old vacation. Adapting to the language, navigating uncertainty on my own and all of the unknowns gave me a sense of independence I am not sure I would have developed so quickly anywhere else. Even though I didn’t realize it at the time, living in a different country, surrounded by new traditions, values, and rhythms, made the world feel bigger, brighter, and more connected, and that’s something I still carry with me today.
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