Ode to America

Living in a foreign country I feel out of the American loop ... and honestly I am so OK with that.  I eat Austrian peanut butter, exchanging the waxy goodness of the American brand for a healthier alternative that the Austrian PB offers my digestive system.  I don’t do sodas.  Diet Coke tastes markedly different here in Vienna and would much rather have an Orange Cappy (an orange juice and mineral water delight) any ol’ day instead of putting that calorie free poison down my throat.  I know nothing about recent political polls, what Obama stands for and what Romney stands against.  I haven’t seen an American sitcom in years.  I didn’t even know that gum now comes in dessert flavors (go figure).

I’ve always had an affinity for the American flag.  As a little kid, I lived in Italy, Germany, and Turkey.  Seeing my countries flag and hearing my countries national anthem while living on foreign soil truly brought warm tingles to my heart.  Living on military bases instilled in me a natural patriotism that still lingers after all these years.  I love to see a solider in uniform and fight the urge to thank him for serving his country on my behalf every time I see one.

If you are wondering why this "American" sappy talk ... my friend Beverly spent a week with me.  She was a breath of America.  She introduced me to “Call of the Wildman”, pilot 1000 fine liner pens, cocoa butter lotion, Queen Latifa perfume and brought so much yummy goodness into my life through Betty Crocker brownie mixes I may never recover!  Being around Beverly was such a good reminder of what it means to be American … and southern American at that!

I love that we have a “we can do anything” attitude.  I love that we say I’m sorry when bumping into someone.  I love that we want to make small talk with others in the grocery line.  I love that we laugh, loud.  I love that we want to sing along to all the songs on the sound of music tour.  I love that we wonder why there is no ice in our drinks, why there are no air conditioners and why milk doesn’t come in a larger containers.  I love that she gets my jokes, remembers 80's dance moves, and eats beans and cornbread.  We are a special breed … and I love us!

As an American trying to assimilate into another culture, I am always measuring myself against the cultural norms.  Don't get me wrong ... I do this because I want to!  I want to be culturally appropriate, be a student of my culture and always try to fit in and adjust.  It's a privilege to do what we get to do ... a calling ... an honor.  However, if I'm gonna keep it real, this week, with my friend here, it was fun being an … American!