For a while in college I was a vegetarian. My reasons were varied, but not so deep that as soon as I learned I was coming to Honduras, I couldn’t re-introduce meat into my diet. That was a good choice since we eat chicken and rice here every day for lunch. Every day. A while ago when we had a group of visitors, my tía was serving lunch and even though she had me translate into English, “would you like to eat?” the two visitors politely refused. “We-are-vegetarians,” they slowly explained in broken Spanish. And as I shoveled the meat into my mouth (and that day it was chicken/rice/hotdogs all mixed together… which hotdogs in Honduras is about as far from vegetarianism as one can it), it was strange to think that I was once one of them. Mostly because as my girls asked them, “why don’t you eat meat?” I realized to the kids it would be the same as someone telling you they don’t drink water. Why wouldn’t you? In college the cultural influences in my life definitely lent towards cutting meat out of my diet, whereas now those thoughts never cross my mind. Culture is funny like that.

And culture is not only visible in what I eat, but very obvious in how I dress. I used to be all for the comfy look, but in a culture where being sloppy is directly related to your economic status, looking nice is a sign of respect for yourself and those around you. (Though I recognize that here being a gringo is synonymous with having money, so the sentiment of “why does that person dress like a slob when he does have money to clothe himself?” does come up). But the whole look-nice factor has definitely influenced my life. Perhaps it has more to do with the fact that I’m no longer in college and I can’t wear sweatshirts to school when I teach or maybe it is Honduras, but I do look in the mirror a lot more often. And sometimes I find it ironic that in a place where my shoes are constantly dusty and the water I shower with is brown that I’ve managed to care more about being neat/clean, but it’s true. I’m still all for the inside of a person being important, I think I’ve just also added the idea that caring about the inside doesn’t mean neglecting about the outside.

And speaking of clothes, there is a group of college kids visiting this week. As they walk around in their athletic shorts, tennis shoes, and carry Nalgenes I look at them and wonder, “Why do we dress like that? Do you know about some drought they rest of us don’t?” But I do the same thing. If I’m going for a hike, I definitely would not do it in jelly shoes, flip flops, or a skirt. Though the same loop I like to walk happens to pass through a village where the people who live there wear their normal clothes to reach the highway (whereas I change my clothes to walk the same distance). For me it’s exercise, for them it’s walking home. And even though I recognize this, I still change my clothes. Why? I don't know... it's my culture, so I guess that's just what I do.

And my I love my life! moment this week happened on Thursday. I was at the internet helping some of my kids research for their homework. As I was sitting there googling plants, they were literally swinging from the roof of the internet, dancing on the picnic table, and screaming the words to songs by Rebelde (which is teen pop music in Spanish). After I had printed out the information and they sat down to copy it word-for-word (summarizing/saying it in your own words…what?!?), I continued to email as they did they homework. It was enjoyable.