Wednesday, May 29, 2013


You know how sometimes you live in a foreign country and don't have access to new undergarments on the fly? Generally, this means that when a wire pops out of your bra you are more inclined to sew it yourself than hope for a new one. Well, such a moment happened to me the other day. I was in my room with my dress down like a nursing mother when my doña walked in to give me juice. I shrieked and was a tad uncomfortable, but she just kept walking in. The fact that I had crossed my arms over myself to cover up didn't seem to phase this doña.

Other times, you find yourself living with really old dudes. Sometimes you walk in on them sitting on the toilet. Even while your apologizing, you wonder if there is even a point because he seems to have no clue why you don't simply stay and help him finish.

Another time, you are living with another old dude who recently had a stroke. His daughter comes to tell you he'd like a word with the new family member. As you talk, you are aware that he is naked and his grandson is giving him a foot massage. You will begin to question all thinking; your thinking, their thinking, and what it means to be naked with others.

I will say that it is different in the city. The day before you leave for the last time you walk in and your doña is walking out of the bathroom with her pants to her ankles, full frontal, taking care of some business. She will talk about her verguenza and you will tell her that everybody uses the bathroom. You will try to make her feel as if the nakedness is totally normal.

So... Is it?

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