INterDEPENDENCE

My husband and I were recently invited to be part of a podcast discussing culturally mixed marriages. The timing didn’t work out but it got me thinking about the subject.

My love and I

                We are English and Spanish

                                Pale and brown

                                                American and err…uh more American*

My Guide to Hispanic Culture

*Maybe that should be Nicaraguan and Unitedstatesian. But that sounds dumb. So just know, that when I’m saying American, I mean estadosunidense and not all you people living in Central and South America who are also, if you think about it, Americans. And Americans whose ancestors have been here quite a bit longer than all us gringo folk. Geez.

Honestly, I’m not sure whether culture is as much of a challenge for us as the simple fact that one of us is male and bitches be crazy one of us is female. We have rarely had cultural clashes more significant than him wanting to go to church and me wanting to watch the Super Bowl, or my insistence that car horns should not be used as a form of sonic protection.

I kind of love that I get to learn a new way of experiencing the world. I have learned all these new words and ideas. Thanks to Eli teaching me Spanish, I can now even more precisely articulate my ridiculous thoughts.

On the most basic and simplistic of levels, I believe the main difference between American and Latino culture is independence versus interdependence. It’s the pioneer spirit versus community.

First of all, I am in no way suggesting that one is better than the other. What I am saying is that they are completely opposite ways of living.

I am all about the independence. “Yeah, I can probably do that” is my motto. I feel empowered when I make an awesome plan of epic efficiency and get everything done with time to spare for a bubble bath. You know what craps on my epic plans? Other people. Don’t slow me down, I’m on a roll!

But thanks to my cultural exchange program I sometimes call “husband,” I am learning the value of depending on others. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable. I don’t always like everyone knowing all my shit. Sometimes it’s downright scary. What if other people suck, as they are wont to do? But at its core, dependence brings security and peace. We were made to living in community, in fellowship. We are at our best when we are supporting one another; sharing both joy and sorrow, success and failure, scarcity and abundance.

It’s ok if I can’t get everything done, other people can help. It’s ok if I don’t have all the answers, other people have been here before me. It’s ok if I don’t have enough money, other people can stand in the gap. Tomorrow it will be me pitching in, or suggesting to a frazzled new mom that vigorous jiggling might help her baby calm down, or covering someone’s mortgage payment while they try to find a new job.

That’s what I love about community: the idea that we are in this life together. What affects one of us affects all of us. For better or worse, the way we treat our neighbor matters. It may be hard for me to rely on others but it’s important that I learn how to do it.

Also, outsourcing the cleaning of the bathroom is RAD.