Personal Space

American's are infamous for their need of seemingly excess personal space and stricter definition of privacy. As any home-grown American, I have come to appreciate the one-and-a-half- to four-foot distance between me and the person with whom I'm conversing, the freedom to browse a clothing store without an assistant following my every move, and the peace and quiet of my home without intrusions of neighborly noises (for the most part).

Living in Mexico has challenged my definition of personal space in more ways than one. Mexicans love to always be touching - so I've adjusted to the kids constantly holding my arm, pinching my belly fat, and pulling at my hair. Noise ordinance laws don't exist - so I've become a master of falling asleep while duranguense music blasts next door until 2AM in the morning while the neighbors celebrate the birthday of some distant relative. Earphones rarely make an appearance either - so I've kept my sanity in the NPH offices by bringing my own earphones to block out the overlapping, clashing musical interests of my office mates' speakers. Even the cats here in Mexico seem to endlessly be in heat always right outside my window during the hours of 1-3AM in the morning.

I'll be glad to get some of that American personal space back - if only for the sake of a little less air pollution.