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By Contributor. By Danielle Conlon. By Noran Morsi. By Harriet Corns. By Shamsa Derrick. And that is how the adventure began. Like legit, you can throw a stone from San Diego and it might just land in Tijuana — ask Jo, she went too.
Since I have studied Spanish practically my whole life, constantly surround myself with Latin American culture and am a devout follower of the religion that is Mexican cuisine — How could I ever resist crossing the border? Even though this violence rarely affects travelers and usually tends to stay between cartels, the negative press was enough to terrify my family.
Like any good son, I decided to strike a compromise so my parents could live at peace with my decision. I called up a Mexican-American amigo who was living in San Diego and he agreed to introduce me to the city. Reggaeton blasting at full volume, Eduardo and I pull into our beach villa in Rosarito. This lively seaside village, historically part of the municipio de Tijuana , acts as a relaxing refuge from the metropolitan chaos of the city.
Most of our time in Rosarito, as you can imagine, revolved around the beach. At the same time, a mariachi band played some local tunes at the table next to us. My parents were somehow convinced I would end up dead on this crazy adventure to Mexico, but I never felt more alive. In the evening, we grabbed some Dos Equis from a local Oxxo and chatted on the beach while the sun set below the horizon.
However, our Uber driver disagreed. Come on…. He still dropped us off at the red light district, claiming we would thank him later. Not sure where he got that impression. The Millennium Arch, constructed in , represents the gateway to Latin America. However, it was clear that we did not need this arch to tell us we were in Latin America. The sensory overload took me over, but in the best way possible. The chaos, sounds, and smells of central Tijuana made me fall in love all over again.