As I write this I'm on a flight from Cancún to Puebla. I have a window seat and when I look out the land looks sparsely populated, long straight lines connecting villages in a grid layout, a big change from what I saw on my flight from Berlin to Madrid.

My time in Mexico so far has been interesting. I always find it strange to experience an old country anew. When I went out of the airport and felt the humid heat and the smell of sea a thousand memories came back to me, because I've lived here before. Then it was catching up with the people, the food and the most urgent administrative tasks I needed done.

The people here are extremely kind in contrast to Europe. It is not only a matter of manners, there's a disposition to please the neighbor and make way for the other. There are a few rotten apples, of course, and when they are rotten they tend to be more toxic than the average grumpy Spaniard, for example.

I have little enthusiasm about being here, and when I face things which I don't want to experience the heart tends to stiffen. The good news, though, is that I escape through work and that will be welcoming an old friend who never fails to cheer me up.

The sensation is that of having lost my home. My possessions have been reduced to 35Kg divided in two suitcases. The weariness of spending some weeks back at my parents. The uncertainty about the future.

And still, on the positive side: a freelance project from a former boss whom I greatly admire, seeing people I love, the freedom that uncertainty brings.

I understand the somber mood as a grieving process. This too, will come to pass.