Cultural differences never cease to be interesting, so here are five more.

(1.) How to wait. Time is a relative concept. Einstein told us that, but we could have just asked the Mexicans. While business matters here in Zamora seem to run on a strict clock, social affairs are a very different matter. If someone says they will swing by at 8:30, don’t be surprised if that turns into 9:30. Leaving a place as a group is also a time consuming process, one peppered with words like “ahora” (within a few hours), “ahorita” (up to an hour or go away, depending on the context), and “ya” (now/already). This all translates into a lot of waiting around. But far from causing aggravation, the young people around here almost enjoy this process, which sometimes involves saying “let’s go now” for hours. It is as though there is some collective recognition that life is short and why should we stress out about it, especially on the weekend? And you know what? They’re absolutely right. We Yanks talk a good game about stopping to smell the figurative roses, but it’s usually all talk.

(2.) How to eat. You can find good food in America and bad food in Mexico, but the real difference here is illustrated with average and cheap eats. Normal food targeted at normal people here in Mexico is simply divine. But it’s not rocket science. They use fresh ingredients, and usually have lime available. That’s really all it takes. The other day I ate some steak tacos that featured tortillas made in the last hour or two and meat that was likely less than 24 hours dead. I ate it out of a Styrofoam plate wrapped in foil on the sidewalk in the middle of a crowded market, and it tasted better than anything I remember about the handful of “fine dining” experiences I’ve had in the states. The cost? About $2.

(3.) How to find a light-switch. This may seem like an odd one, but get this: Here in Central Mexico, your average light-switch glows in the dark. How on Earth the richest and allegedly most advanced country in the world missed out on this slap-your-head-at-the-sheer-common-sense-of-it-all idea is totally beyond me, but we should adopt it right away.

(4.) How to party/drink. We must be careful here. Mexico is the place many Americans go to party (spring-break- fraternity-projectile-vomit style), but Mexicans themselves tend to party with more civilized nuance. A typical party, for a baptism, confirmation, birthday, graduation, holiday, just cause, or celebration of some or another blessed virgin, will last for many hours, often late into the night and early morning. It involves loads of people of all ages, and even the old ones often stay up to close the thing down. Mexicans are not wimps, and they have busy schedules. An extrovert might have a birthday party (sometimes an obligation) to attend every single weekend. This introverted American with limited Spanish had two this past weekend. Next weekend there’s another, plus something for a virgin. (Thanks, virgins!)

And that’s just the normal people. The hearty youngins here would put American Sigma Chis to shame. They have actually created two traditions (that I know of) for what to do after you have stayed up all night partying. The first is to go out for a bowl of menudo as the sun rises. Eating boiled pieces of cow stomach, apparently, is a good hangover cure. The second tradition is the pajarete, a drink made from chocolate, pure alcohol, and fresh milk squeezed directly from the udder of a cow into your glass. You may only drink this at dawn, or preferably later, after which you are allowed to sleep.

(5.) How to appreciate your family. Occasionally, a Mexican will ask me if I miss my family, spread as it is over California, Oregon and Washington. I haven’t seen them since October, and generally do so only once a year. I haven’t been to a family Christmas since 2005. I love them, but the real truth is that a visit or two per year and a couple phone calls per month is enough. But that’s how Americans are: restless, independent, and with the financial means to act on the impulse. I am descended from people who left the European familiar to get on some flimsy ship and brave the very distinct possibility of starvation just to get a change of scene. That explains a lot about me, and a lot about us. Here in Zamora, the average person I meet was born here. Most of their family lives here, or possibly in Guadalajara or Morelia, which are both two hours away. And Mexicans tend to live with their families, and their family rules, until they get married.

I have a 30-year-old friend from Los Angeles who has a bunch of family here and often comes to visit for protracted periods. He is a US citizen, is married to a US citizen, and they have two young children. But one day while visiting Zamora, he came home at 8:30 a.m. after a night of partying (this was when I learned about the menudo tradition). The next weekend, he was grounded by the family.

I simply couldn’t live with that. Still, as much as the Mexican family structure (and, really, the family structure of most of the world for most of human history) strikes this gringo as suffocating, there is no denying the benefits. Family keeps you grounded, remind you of your traditions, and can make very positive contributions to your mental health. There’s always someone there for you to talk to - someone who has been through that before and knows what it’s like. Much more than Americans, for instance, the locals here seem to be at peace with where they are, and don’t display as much existential angst. That could have a lot to do with actually knowing where they came from.

 NEXT WEEK: Five things Americans could teach Mexicans