Remembering 9/11: My Story from Mexico

 Remembering 9/11: My Story from Mexico

Today marks the anniversary of 9/11, a day that changed the world forever.

When the attacks happened, I wasn’t in Canada—I was in Mexico. We had just arrived, and on our third morning, while sitting at breakfast, the waiter asked if we had heard what had happened. At first, we didn’t understand. Then, as we walked the streets of Bucerías, we saw people everywhere—tourists and locals alike—glued to the TVs in sports bars and restaurants, watching in shock and disbelief.

It felt surreal. We were supposed to be on vacation, but suddenly it didn’t feel right to relax. The world was grieving. Planes were grounded. No one knew how or when we’d get home.

My friend was preparing to fly back, while I had planned to head south and stay for a few months. But nothing was the same anymore. Traveling felt frightening. Security checks became intense. They emptied out my bag, ran detectors over everything—something I had never experienced before.

When I finally arrived in Zipolite, it was like a ghost town. A tropical storm had just passed through, but the emptiness wasn’t just from the weather. Normally September was quiet, but this was different—tourism had collapsed overnight. I had made jewelry to sell on the beach, but there were no tourists to sell to. No one was there.

Eventually, I returned to Bucerías. That’s another story in itself, but I’ll share one piece: my airline, Canada 3000, went bankrupt in the chaos that followed. I had to buy a new ticket home for $800—money my mom had to borrow. That might sound like a small struggle compared to what so many others went through, but it shows how far the ripple effects spread.

That day, and the weeks that followed, truly felt like the end of the world. Everyone was scared. The whole world had changed.

Even now, 24 years later, I remember the silence, the fear, and the uncertainty. But I also remember the resilience. Strangers looked out for each other. Communities found ways to keep going. The world was shaken, but it didn’t stop turning.

We all have our own 9/11 story. This was mine. And though time has passed, we carry those memories with us—as a reminder of both our vulnerability, and our strength.