On this trip back to the US, I flew through New York. It was a cool sight (and feeling) to watch the sun setting behind the NYC skyline as we came in for landing. Welcome to the USA. (The welcome to New York was not quite as friendly as arriving in North Carolina however, though I guess I shouldn't have been surprised).
There is a large population of Mexicans--specifically from the state of Puebla-- in New York, which led to the nickname "Puebla York." The man I sat next to on the plane works for a paquetería (parcels service?) which brings items between Puebla and New York every week. While waiting at baggage claim, I stood next to a family (from somewhere in Mexico though I don't know where) and it was interesting watching the dynamic. There was a grandmother, mother and father, and two daughters-- one around 14 and one around 5 or 6. The adults only spoke in Spanish, though it was clear the parents at least understood English because the youngest daughter only responded in English. The older daughter was sulking off to the side because, according to the youngest, the mom "always asks her to do too much." While probably mostly attributed to being a teenager, I couldn't help thinking about clashes in cultures between Mexico and the US.
I also had to keep reminding myself to switch into English mode -- though I did speak in Spanish a couple times to my (non-Spanish speaking) seat-mate on my second flight.