Thought: I was walking in the skyway the other day, Blog, and I had a flash of a memory from the last time I was in London. It was an odd memory because it was at a point in my trip over there where I had been the only American for a good week or so and had settled into the fact that no one else around me was from where I was from. And then I went to London where the moment I got on the tube, I noticed there were Americans all around me. I felt both very much at home and oddly disappointed that I wasn't the only American anymore. I found myself wanting to start up conversations with my brethren just for the comfort of knowing that they'd understand the joys of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and 30 Rock. At the same time, I felt like I had to share England with them. Like, what are you doing here? I'm the American who is in England right now. You guys aren't supposed to be here because you're not from here. Only English people are in England. I understand that is a ridiculous thing to think and feel, but I'm just going to chalk it up to the little bit of culture shock I had taken a week to absorb and appreciate by that point.
We're the ones wearing not black. |
Anyway, it was a really random memory to have as I was in the skyway headed into the Wells Fargo building in downtown Minneapolis. There is really nothing reminiscent of London or England in that particular place, but I guess sometimes memories just happen to us completely unprompted. If anything, it made me appreciate that I am in the place where I am from and that even though our American culture isn't always lauded or apparent (to us anyway), it is more of a part of me than I ever realized before. It feels good to belong somewhere.
The bright, spacious, and clean New World. No wonder we're cocky about this. |
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