I couldn’t help but think of Bill Bryson’s “I’m a Stranger
Here Myself” so many times while I was home last month. Having not lived in the
United States most of my life I tend to refer to his book often. I have done a
lot of reading on 3rd culture kids but it never ceases to amaze me
that I never feel like less of an American than when I “go back” to “my”
country. I flew in to the Denver airport on November 13th for an
unexpected visit home. As usual my system was stunned by all the American
odors, noises, and temptations. I had already been back during my service once
before in July and so everything was a little less shocking, I had mentally
prepared myself for things like the smell of cinnabon in the airport, the
multiple TV’s with all English news in the waiting areas, and the bathroom
stalls being large and automated. But things still gave me a “homesick” kind of
feeling and in a very different way than when I had come back from living in
Europe. One major difference being that when I was a kid I knew exactly where I
was from… I was from America but I lived in Germany or Holland, I had American
parents we lived overseas because of my dad’s job (I had practiced that
explanation so many times). This is a big difference I feel now when I am back
in the states, people always want to know my reason for not living in “my”
country, and suddenly I do not have a practiced response. I have no EXCUSE for
not living in my country, this time my parents didn’t make me, I choose to not
live here. Sometimes people still take me by surprise with their genuine
dumbfounded surprise at my rootlessness; I chose to go to school in Canada
instead of the United States, and right after I chose to serve in Peace Corps
Nicaragua. WHY would you do something like that?
I would like to make the side note that although ALL these
choices I have to make often STRESS me out (they seriously, STRESS ME OUT) all
my travels have shown me that many people do not have the luxury of choosing
where they live or how they are going to earn their living. The world is my
oyster, and it is mostly a gift but it comes with it’s own challenges.
I feel so lonely and out of place when I get back to the
states. It feels like everyone has their people, their groups their comfortably
designed lives. I do not have a life here, and I never have. I feel most
comfortable being “The American” (but you can’t be specialy labeled that when
you are already IN America) As a foreigner, I am automatically interesting
(especially in Nicaragua, EVERYONE wants to know who I am and what I am about)
When I landed in Denver, though, suddenly NOBODY CARED why I was here, no one
stared at me, called me gringa or chelita, no one chose to start conversations
with me, cause I just look like everyone else (and probably because no one cares, in an American
airport, who you are and why you are there, they see travelers everyday. I
never thought of the possibility that I may miss being stared and gawked at all
the time. I guess I always took it as normal and I became so accustomed to that
way of socially interacting for the first time that I never learned the regular
way to start a conversation, the way that normal people do. In the past people
would look at me-know I wasn’t from the same place they were, either because of
my shoes or my American accent (even in Canada both those things were telling)
and they would ask “where are you from?” and BAM I led the conversation, people
were always interested for at least 2 minutes and then I could usually hold my
own asking them questions when the geography of it all confused them. I am used
to being the dancing monkey at social events, and pretty comfortable in that
role. In grade school it was “this
is my granddaughter Alicia she lives in Europe and speaks German”. In college
it was…this is Alicia she lives in Holland, “pot is legal there!” Now I live in
a small Nicaraguan country town and I am SO CLEARLY a foreigner they shout
“guuudbye” as I walk down the street (instead of the traditional greeting of
“adios” perhaps to make me feel ‘more at home’ or just to let me know that they
know, I am not from there. Whatever, the tactic people ALWAYS recognize me as
different they come up to me and ask me why I am here and what I am doing. The
thing is, that this is not something new for me, since I was 18 I have never
been at a social gathering and not had people approach me. Until I come back to
the states…perhaps I act proud, but really it is that I am very unpracticed at
initiating conversations because I am always the one answering the questions…
What do you do in an airport when no one knows why; it is
exciting that you can order a turkey cranberry sandwhich with a chocolate chip
cookie, and why you can’t tell the difference between a quarter and a nickel???
Do you explain yourself to people? You can’t even call your best friend on the
phone to sympathize because you don’t have a cell phone that works in this
country…Tell me, what American does not have a cell phone and can’t tell the
difference between a quarter and a nickel??
During my Peace Corps service, I have had some awkward
non-american moments among all my American volunteer colleagues. When topics
like “tail-gating”, “beer pong” or some specific hot sauce that EVERYONE knows
about and miss and I awkwardly laugh along not quite understanding the context.
Or when sports seasons roll around and I don’t know that the super-bowl is not
the same thing as march madness, let alone the names or locations of the sports
teams. The thing that frustrates me is that it is not for lack of interest that
I don’t know these things, but because I HAVE NEVER LIVED HERE. There is
certain knowledge that is very much assumed when people meet me, a white girl
with an American accent serving in the Peace Corps. If I only knew what this
information was I could research it, just like I would do when I travel, to be
well informed about a country and it’s culture before I visit it, but NO ONE
TELLS YOU these things, there is no magic list called “things you would know if
you had grown up in the U.S.” (Although you can bet I have mentally compiled
one) Never again will I call Staples, Paperclips or think when college age boys
say they went “tail-gating” they were closely following behind someone’s
car…but all these things are learned through embarassing mishaps where my big mouth
does not help the situation but my ability to laugh at myself (learned from
being a foreigner all my life) has served me well.
The assumed knowledge people think I have (which I do not)
and other assumption people make when they look at me, which make me
uncomfortable have also been an important reminder my whole life that you
should not assume you know anything about a person just by looking at them.
People are full of surprises. The world is becoming a smaller place. To serve
in Peace Corps you have to have American Citizenship, I think we often assume
we have all these cultural aspects in-common just because we all have American
Citizenship and joined the Peace Corps, diversity in Peace Corps and the
greater world, is not just skin color, religion, or sexuality, we all bring
different knowledge (and lack-thereof) to the table. I may have not grown up in
the United States but not every American nor Peace Corps volunteer did, and
even if they did, people have different family traditions, languages they speak
at home, practices they considered acceptable. So next time you are having a
discussion with a Peace Corps volunteer don’t assume they know the magic list
of things you think “any american would know” because we are all American and
we are all different and that is what makes us so special.
