Atlixco: My Almost Home
Semester Abroad: Universita Bocconi
Melissa, one of the Spring 2026 Global Correspondents, shares her experience here abroad during the Fall 2025 semester. Follow along with the group of correspondents on our blog and look out for their images on the @pennabroad Instagram feed.
Towards the end of January, I decided to take a trip to Atlixco, Puebla. While the city is known for its flowers, amazing weather, and its proximity to the Popocatépetl volcano, to me it is more than that. It is the place my parents met and ultimately left to give me the future they once yearned for themselves.
No words can express how grateful I am for my parents for moving to an unfamiliar place, surrounded by a language they did not know and no familiar faces. I often think about how close I am to them and how much I look forward to seeing them after breaks, so the thought of not being able to see them whenever I want feels heartbreaking. Their sacrifice is something I carry with me everywhere.
On the way to my aunt’s house, I saw roads filled with children playing, dogs roaming freely, and neighbors lingering outside. Somehow, I felt at peace. There was an attachment I cannot fully describe. It was as if I belonged, even though it was my first time visiting. I saw the house my mom once lived in, the streets she used to walk, and I wondered what my parents would feel if they returned.
During my time there, I visited my grandparents’ graves. That was the hardest thing I had to do. My grandma passed away almost ten years ago, and we had to watch her funeral through FaceTime. Standing in front of her grave brought back all those emotions I thought time had softened. In that moment, I just wished my parents were with me.
Aside from that, I was able to meet cousins and uncles I had only ever seen in pictures or heard about in stories. I flipped through old photographs of my mom and dad in Mexico, trying to figure out where the pictures were taken. It felt like stepping into a time machine.
In true tourist fashion, we climbed the Cerro de San Miguel, and it was a rough journey up. By
the time we reached the top, I was completely out of breath, but the view made it worth it. At the top of the Cerro stands a church, and according to local legend, the devil remains caged there in a deep pit beside it. Once a year he is released, causing mischief throughout the town, until Saint Michael the Archangel chases and battles him across Atlixco. At dawn, Saint Michael drags him back to the Cerro and locks him away again. It was a little creepy, but it definitely made me want to return to see how credible this legend is.
My time in Atlixco was marked by grief, peace, and contentment. I healed something inside me that I did not even know needed healing. It is a small town, but it holds so much history, my parents’ history, and in many ways, mine as well. I recommend everyone visit, even if just for a day.
And most of all, I want to thank my parents for everything they have sacrificed so I could be here today.
Te quiero, mami y papi.
