My husband and I are in Europe visiting my family.
I love seeing the family and getting to know them again. I have lived away for 28 years now, and I am realizing that I am more American than European. It’s a different world out here—different thoughts, clothing, food, habits, ways. There is much I love about the ways of Europe, but I am looking at it from the outside somehow now. I love soaking in their language and customs for now. They still have long meals with great wines and cheeses, and think about saving in places we would not consider saving. Family “arms” matter still somehow, and my childhood thoughts are coming back to me.
But in many ways, the American culture has invaded my childhood country, and some things have been lost. There is much mixture here; they hate the USA and yet welcome their conveniences with open arms. They complain about the States being the reason for their hard times, yet its wealth is sought after and embraced without shame.
I am enjoying reconnecting with the ones I grew up with and seeing how they have changed over the years. Just as I have, really. I love it here—but I am glad I am going home eventually.

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