A first time for everything

My first visit to Mexico City was in May of 1996. Just out of high school with a year of Bible institute under my belt, I was ready to see what kind of challenges might await me on the mission field.
I almost didn't make it there. I was told in Dallas that I could not board the plane for Mexico because I was a minor traveling alone and I did not have a notarized letter from my parents stating that I was allowed to do so. Finally, they decided that since I was 18, I was no longer a minor, and I was permitted to board the plane.
I spent two weeks in Chihuahua, a city in northern Mexico which is the capital city of the state by the same name. I had a good time there, staying with several missionary families, seeing different works, and even speaking at a teen meeting through an interpreter.
From there, I flew to Mexico City on Aeromexico, which was the worst flight I have ever taken. I was met at the airport by Mike Goldfuss, and I spent the next week with his family in Mexico City.
Many things struck me about Mexico City: it was huge, sprawling, full of people, and full of pollution. The smog hung like a thick gray curtain over the city, like fog that never burned off. The people were friendly and open, and they also spoke Spanish much more slowly than those in the north (which I appreciated very much).
It was a great week. I enjoyed the city, the Metro, the Goldfusses, their little colonia, and I couldn't wait to go back again.