The Day I Knew I Was Culturally Integrated...

..was not the day that Spanish rolled off my tongue thoughtlessly or the day I ate 5 tortillas at a meal, it was the day my 4 host brother was crying from cutting onions and instead of snatching the sharp, potentially dangers tool from him, I ran upstairs to bring him my swimming goggles so he could continue cutting, tearlessly. Apparently I've grown accustomed to children carrying around machetes and such. Oh my.