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It is the eve of my return to America, as the Europeans call our country, and as any traveler would do I am reflecting on all I have done and all I have learned over the last 10 weeks. For example saying you are from The United States frequently brings a second of recognition that can be eliminated if you say America instead. As I mentioned in previous blogs I have also found that Americans are sadly not always well received here for the reasons we as Americans seem to so casually admit...we are in general much louder and more obnoxious than many European cultures. But what about all of the Americans that have successfully blended into the crowd, quiet and appreciative of their chance to learn about a foreign place and its people? This type of traveler goes largely unnoticed and unaccounted for when in fact there could be many more of this type than the loud and obnoxious few that give us a bad name.
How will people react both American and French if I write about the jerk French shop keeper who ignored my request to buy a bottle of water while he scolded me for a wrongly opened cooler that was likely his own doing. I can't forget the kind man in the grocery store who so generously explained all the types of cheese so that I could experience French dining at its finest. You see there are those who give everyone a bad name and those that make up for them. I enourage everyone to be the latter in hopes of converting the others. Despite the slight twisting of the eyebrows and sometimes accompanying downturn of the lips on the faces of some Europeans that have so openly shared with me their thoughts on Americans, I have found that some aspects of American culture have been widely received and accepted into the daily life of Europe, Eastern Europe included.
Music it seems has the strongest 'infiltration' with radios blaring Jack Johnson, James Blunt, and even 50 Cent who was playing in Bucharest while I was in Romania. I wish I had taken one of the advertisements posted all over the city. Movies are primarly American which is not too great a surprise due to the massive amounts of money we are willing to spend on production, actors, and special effects. English is everywhere in the big cities; during my second weekend in Amsterdam I don't think I heard any Dutch. Now I know that English isn't "American" but it's world wide use makes it very easy for us to travel around the world. While those raised in Romania with little to no English in school cannot communicate outside of their own country.
The United States owns land in many of the countries I have visited. Just today I walked on American soil at the American Cemetary in Normandie, given to the United States after D-Day. I am grateful for the opportunity and priviledge to visit this area. Although the tour guide was racing us between sites (25 minutes to wander alone in the cemetary feels like 30 seconds; perhaps only Americans are attached to spending more time there. I don't really know.) I was able to begin to grasp the magnitude of the effect America had at that very place on June 6th, 1944. Today young children play in the sand on the beaches with the sun shining brightly on the blue water at low tide. It is hard to imagine the noise and chaos of the battle that took place on these same beaches. But the never-ending rows of perfect white crosses neatly arranged like a battalion ready for battle bring you back to the men who died here in a flurry of violence; the men who gave their lives so that the little blonde boy far too young to understand the history in the sand that squishes beneath his feet, can drag his toy boat proudly along behind him. This little boy is in an odd way the reason these beaches are so famous. He is free to sail his little boat in any way that his little Captain heart desires.
My thoughts go beyond the little boy to questions I would ask. Was it cold that day? Did the soldiers even notice if it was? Were they aware of the wet sand making its way into their boots. This is the only part I can imagine for myself; the splash of the water as it seeps through your clothes and the feel of wet sand all over everything and every part of you. This cannot I am certain compare to the rest that I cannot fathom.
Ironically for me my visit to Normandie brings my trip full circle. Today I took a step back toward the United States. Tomorrow I will take the final step of my journey as I board the plane for Denver. I have learned to speak a new language, perhaps not fluently but well enough to eavesdrop on Romanian tourists in Brussels. I can get all the way around Europe on a train and navigate through busy train stations with no time for mistakes. I can get around Paris looking nothing like a tourist but more likely a study abroad student when I begin to speak. I can raise a puppy from birth and I don't even like dogs. I can milk a cow, hitch a ride on a horse drawn cart, and find a hotel hidden 15 minutes outside of the city in which I have arrived without a hint of panic. Best of all I can do all of these things ALONE.
Many people commented before I left Denver that I would have so much fun meeting so many new people. To some extent this has been true but today I was thinking about how many times I chose to be alone with my thoughts. I realized that I came to Europe to be alone, to learn how to hang out with myself and to appreciate the things back home that keep me from truly being alone. I know that Colorado is my home and those friends who have stood by me every step of the way through this trip and the last few years while I worked to get into medical school are the true friends I always used to dream of having. You too have been a part of my journey here. Don't worry Mom and Dad, this includes you too.
I will leave tomorrow with more than just stamps on my passport. I have been stamped by the people, cultures, food, and languages of every country I have visited. There are 8 in total if you allow me to count Austria due to the quick train ride around the lake from Zurich to Munich. They did check my passport but weren't liberal with their ink to prove it! I hope that you will welcome me home with open arms despite the few extra pounds of French baguettes and cheese that I will bring along with me. Whoever said you will lose weight in Europe obviously didn't spend much time in Paris or Florence. Please be kind about my clothing situation. Dress like an orphan day is nearly every day for me. I can use this black humor because I have given myself to an orphanage. "It's a hard knock life..."
I can't wait to see the Rocky Mountains!
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Sean T.
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Welcome Home?
At this point, I am not sure if you have arrived at your finally destination but I would like to be one of the first to say, Welcome Home! I know I am not there to greet you when you arrive but it will still be nice to know that you have made it back safely and better for the experience. I hope you get some time in the coming weeks to tell me all about it!! Missed you... Sean