Before entering my story of the day, I wanted to cover something that has been bugging me. I have Stat Counter (see right hand column) on this blog, which lets me see somewhat more detailed information than WordPress provides to me. Since I have installed this, I have noticed that the activity is mostly what one would expect–with one exception.
There is someone in Germany who–according to Stat Counter–visits my blog an average of about 13 times a day and one time remained on my site for more than 24 hours. I have a hard time believing that there is a person out there so dedicated to reading my blog that they could produce such stats. Does anyone else have Stat Counter (or a similar widget) and notice strange stats like this? Or do I really have a hardcore, German fan?
With that said, on to my story.
Being that my husband and I are from two very different cultures, we often hit some roadblocks in perceptions and understandings. These roadblocks are often humorous and are always a learning experience. Though there are moments when they are not completely positive, I would never trade my situation for any other; our differences keep an element of excitement and surprise between us.
These differences were there from the start of our relationship; however, at the start it was just us. Once we became engaged, Sal was introduced to my family and suddenly we were all experiencing—and sometimes judging—the differences.
One day we were all sitting in my parent’s den discussing potential wedding plans. The big question at that time was location: here or Mexico? My family does not fly, so they wanted something to be done here in the U.S. His family cannot afford any part of the trip north, so they wanted it in Mexico.
We were going over the pros and cons of each. My family would make the case for the U.S., Salvador for Mexico, and I would play both sides. After a bit of back and forth, my mother pointed out that we have family who would “cater”, making the food easier. Sal brightened at this point, clearly thinking he had a counter point for Mexico that would one-up my family preparing the food.
“In Mexico, we will get married and kill the lambs. It is good luck and it is food, too,” and he stated.
He looked at us with a gaze that was pure pride. My family stared at him with their mouths open.