Friday, November 19, 2010

Oops, my bad.... I mean, mi mal.


Naturally, living in a foreign country, there will be social faux pas. I forget to look the person I'm cheers-ing in the eyes. I forget to kiss on the right cheek (or is it my left?) and I bump heads. I have no idea what to put in a day of the dead cross. (Salt by the way.) These are just a few of the things that make me look like a tourist. Which I really hate. Tourists get ripped off, talked down to, and ignored. So I do my best to blend. But at what point does my identity need to bend for the sake of fitting in? I mean, it doesn't matter if I wear the right clothes (not too fancy for a soccer game, but heels are mandatory for all events), and speak perfect spanish, I'm still going to be white and born in America. The American woman in me screams, "I can open my own door!" but that would make me so rude here. So do I conform to the best of my abilities or just accept that I will always stick out like a sore thumb? Finally, after being escorted to and from the bathroom- twice, I reminded my chivalrous companion that I am, in fact, American underneath it all. I'm sure he was shocked. It might have cost me a date in the future, but I felt good for speaking up. I'm a big girl. I can pee pee on the potty all by myself.

No comments:

Post a Comment