Bicultural Is Better Than Bicoastal

Clarissa said, "Duh!" when I told her she speaks Spanish like a Mexican. In a bicultural family we never stop to think about what language we're producing, but Spanish seems to fit us when we're in Guanajuato.

"I'm not gringo," I told Salvador. "I'm from Alameda." This is the street where Skyler and his playmates kick a soccer ball down the trash ramp. The downhill goalie has to be a good one. My kids eat choco-roles without translating them into twinkies. Christian screams in delight at the sight of horsies as well as caballos.

There are no beaches or amusement parks in Guanajuato, but there is a chance to put down roots. Fifty-one days have been a long and fruitful planting.