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While I was pursuing my master’s degree in the UK, a colleague invited me to an esoteric consultation involving palmistry, astrology, and cards. The appointment took place in April.
I remember asking about what lay ahead for me: whether I would find a new job or return to my home country. I was told that if I had not found work by a certain date, I should go back home.
Later, while writing my master’s thesis, I began sending out resumes. I was invited to interviews and eventually hired for a new job in Mexico. I received the phone call with the job offer on Saturday, September 9, followed by an official email dated the same day.
That was when I remembered the consultation. I went back to find the paper with my palm prints, and there it was, written clearly around one of my fingers:
“September 9, new job.”
As for Mexico, this was already the second time in my life that the possibility of living there had appeared, despite my having no connection to the country. The first time had been a decade earlier, when I had to choose between Poland and Mexico, and I chose Poland.
I had given up on Mexico.
But Mexico had not given up on me.
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