Voice of the Diaspora
Journey of Bharat Bajaj
I was deep in the daily grind at an e-commerce firm in India, fixing messy data and keeping up with a constant flood of orders—when my boss casually dropped something unexpected:
“Offsite opportunity, Mexico, Thailand, or Southeast Asia. Your call.”
“Offsite opportunity, Mexico, Thailand, or Southeast Asia. Your call.”
I didn’t think twice for long. I’d always loved the idea of travel, and I’d been casually learning Spanish on Duolingo, so Mexico just felt right. It sounded exciting, a little unpredictable, the kind of decision that shakes things up in the best way. I packed my drone, my laptop, a few comfort spices from home, and boarded the flight feeling equal parts excited and unsure of what I was walking into.
Looking back now, I feel incredibly lucky I said yes. At the time, it just felt like a cool opportunity. I never imagined I’d actually build a life here one day.
Looking back now, I feel incredibly lucky I said yes. At the time, it just felt like a cool opportunity. I never imagined I’d actually build a life here one day.
Landing in the Chaos of CDMX
Mexico City hit me all at once. It was loud, alive, fast—like the city never pauses. My early attempts at ordering food in Spanish usually ended in confusion and laughter, especially at taquerías where everything moved too quickly. But then came al pastor tacos, juicy, flavorful, unforgettable. Still, I couldn’t help missing that familiar Indian taste, cumin-heavy curries, dal, butter chicken.
Some nights, especially when it rained hard, homesickness crept in. I’d find myself in the kitchen trying to recreate a piece of home with whatever I had. What made the transition easier was the people, small gestures or a casual chat with a neighbor made the city feel a little less foreign, a little more welcoming.
Mexico City hit me all at once. It was loud, alive, fast—like the city never pauses. My early attempts at ordering food in Spanish usually ended in confusion and laughter, especially at taquerías where everything moved too quickly. But then came al pastor tacos, juicy, flavorful, unforgettable. Still, I couldn’t help missing that familiar Indian taste, cumin-heavy curries, dal, butter chicken.
Some nights, especially when it rained hard, homesickness crept in. I’d find myself in the kitchen trying to recreate a piece of home with whatever I had. What made the transition easier was the people, small gestures or a casual chat with a neighbor made the city feel a little less foreign, a little more welcoming.
The Friends Who Made It Home
Things really changed once I found my circle. I met them through random meetups, people who quickly became my go-to crew. Tuesdays turned into football matches at Parque México, nights were filled with electronic music, and weekends meant road trips.
And honestly, that’s the biggest lesson for me: a place alone isn’t enough. You can get used to any city, even bored of it over time but the people you meet, the connections you build, that’s what stays. That’s what turns a place into home.
My friends made all the difference. They helped me settle in, pushed me out of my comfort zone, and made everyday life feel fuller. Somewhere along the way, the city stopped feeling temporary. Three years in, I was fully in rhythm dodging potholes, shouting “¡Vamos!” during matches, and realizing these people had become family.
Exploring Mexico’s Wild Side
Mexico City became my home base, but the real magic was exploring beyond it. I chased waves in Puerto Escondido (and got absolutely wiped out once), slowed things down in Sayulita, and completely fell for Oaxaca—easily my favorite state. Monte Albán was surreal, and the markets—full of rich mole and even chapulines—were an experience on their own.
Tulum brought a different vibe altogether—music festivals surrounded by ancient energy, quick dips in cenotes between events, nights that blurred into mornings. Día de Muertos was something else entirely—trajineras glowing with marigolds, painted faces, mezcal toasts, and a sense of tradition that felt deeply moving even as an outsider.
Travel has always been a big part of who I am. I’ve been lucky enough to visit 34+ countries, and living here has made it even easier to explore the Americas. A lot of my trips now revolve around music festivals, finding new cities through sound, meeting people from everywhere, and collecting memories that feel completely different from typical travel.
There’s always more, volcano hikes, butterfly migrations, caves in Yucatán. And whenever I miss home? I find my way to a good Indian spot or cook something myself. Somehow, both worlds coexist now.
Things really changed once I found my circle. I met them through random meetups, people who quickly became my go-to crew. Tuesdays turned into football matches at Parque México, nights were filled with electronic music, and weekends meant road trips.
And honestly, that’s the biggest lesson for me: a place alone isn’t enough. You can get used to any city, even bored of it over time but the people you meet, the connections you build, that’s what stays. That’s what turns a place into home.
My friends made all the difference. They helped me settle in, pushed me out of my comfort zone, and made everyday life feel fuller. Somewhere along the way, the city stopped feeling temporary. Three years in, I was fully in rhythm dodging potholes, shouting “¡Vamos!” during matches, and realizing these people had become family.
Exploring Mexico’s Wild Side
Mexico City became my home base, but the real magic was exploring beyond it. I chased waves in Puerto Escondido (and got absolutely wiped out once), slowed things down in Sayulita, and completely fell for Oaxaca—easily my favorite state. Monte Albán was surreal, and the markets—full of rich mole and even chapulines—were an experience on their own.
Tulum brought a different vibe altogether—music festivals surrounded by ancient energy, quick dips in cenotes between events, nights that blurred into mornings. Día de Muertos was something else entirely—trajineras glowing with marigolds, painted faces, mezcal toasts, and a sense of tradition that felt deeply moving even as an outsider.
Travel has always been a big part of who I am. I’ve been lucky enough to visit 34+ countries, and living here has made it even easier to explore the Americas. A lot of my trips now revolve around music festivals, finding new cities through sound, meeting people from everywhere, and collecting memories that feel completely different from typical travel.
There’s always more, volcano hikes, butterfly migrations, caves in Yucatán. And whenever I miss home? I find my way to a good Indian spot or cook something myself. Somehow, both worlds coexist now.
Loving It Here
Looking back, it’s wild how things changed, from working in India to building a life here in Mexico City. Between work, travel, drone shots, and late-night conversations, it feels like I’ve grown in ways I didn’t expect.
More than anything, I just feel grateful. Grateful for the opportunity, for the risks that worked out, and for the people who made this place feel like home.
And honestly, I’m not done yet. Maybe more Oaxaca trips, maybe more Tulum nights, either way, I’m in no rush to leave.
Looking back, it’s wild how things changed, from working in India to building a life here in Mexico City. Between work, travel, drone shots, and late-night conversations, it feels like I’ve grown in ways I didn’t expect.
More than anything, I just feel grateful. Grateful for the opportunity, for the risks that worked out, and for the people who made this place feel like home.
And honestly, I’m not done yet. Maybe more Oaxaca trips, maybe more Tulum nights, either way, I’m in no rush to leave.