It was the first time I met my future husband's family. They invited me for dinner and served me tripe. I took a mouthful. It was strange in my mouth. I couldn't swallow it, but couldn't spit it out.

I sat with my mouth of tripe, feeling their eyes on me. Then my mother-in-law smiled at me. “It's okay,” she said. “I'll make you something else.” She went into the kitchen.

I was already in love with my husband. But now I had started to fall in love with his family too.