All my life I have classified others around me as "strange." Recently I have come to the realization that in actuality the things that appear strange to me are in fact normal, and that I am the one that deserves to be described by the not so popular adjective.
I have realized that to the majority of people I meet in the small town of Lins, I will be the only American they ever encounter. Their view of Americans will be solely from the movies, music and their encounter with me. Unfortunately, I am far from the typical American.

Last week Rachel and I were at the house of some of our new friends. Four guys in their early twenties who befriended us since they are trying to learn English (well actually one doesn't speak English at all, but he is really good at playing the guitar). Anyway, they speak English to us and we try our best to speak Portuguese to them. After a bit of hanging out, I realized that one by one each boy would disappear for 5-10 minutes and then return, with their hair wet and in a change of clothes.

"Did you just shower?" I asked, a little confused as to why they would not have showered before we got there or after we left.
"Yeah," he replied, "I usually shower four to five times a day."
"Four or five times A DAY?" I repeated, shocked, and dreading the question that was about to come next. "Yeah, how many times do you shower a day?"
"A day or every two days?" I laughingly responded.
"What?! You don't shower everyday!" he didn't seem to believe it.

"Not always," I replied, silently cursing myself for not being able to lie. "Usually, five times a week," I told him.
"Do all Americans not shower everyday?" he curiously asked.
"Well, most do," I admitted, "but not everyone."
Saturday afternoon Rachel and I went with our friend Valeria to a town called Marila which is about an hour away from Lins and also the location of the nearest shopping mall. When we arrived we went shopping for about twenty minutes before discovering that the main purpose of the trip was actually to eat McDonalds. Apparently eating McDonalds is a special treat for the people of Lins. A treat worth driving an hour away for. Valeria insisted that Rachel and I get something to eat, despite the fact that we weren't hungry and were eagerly anticipating getting home to eat our usual rice, bean and meat dinner.
"But the Mc is the Mc!" Valeria exclaimed flabbergasted at the fact that we were turning down McDonalds. "But we have eaten at McDonalds so many times before," we explained, "we would prefer Brazilian food." Not to mention, the prices of meals were ridiculous. About 16 reais (9 dollars) for a meal with a burger, french fries and a drink.
"Do all Americans not eat McDonalds?" she asked. It didn't make sense to her.
Sunday night Rachel and I went to dinner with two of our recently made friends -- Brazilian girls in their early twenties. During dinner they asked us what perfume we wore. Rachel and I looked at each other and laughed.
"Perfume? Um, I have never worn perfume," I replied, "just deodorant."
They looked at us with an expression of confusion. "Do Americans not wear perfume?!" they asked.
"Well, some do," we replied, "just not us."
"And you don't wear makeup?" Rafaela said as she thoroughly examined my face.
"No, not typically, sometimes a bit of eyeliner if it's a special occasion," I humbly replied. "And I don't wear high heels," I added since I knew that question was bound to come next.
If only she knew that I didn't even have my ears pierced...
On the weekends when I play soccer, I am constantly asked if all Americans play soccer. When I turn down opportunities to go shopping, I am asked whether all Americans don't like to shop. When I turn on the air conditioning in the classroom, I am asked if all Americans like to be cold. My favorite books, songs and movies are viewed as the favorite books, songs and movies of Americans. I try to explain that some of my traits do not fall under the American stereotype, but they don't seem to understand...