Notes From an American Across the Pond

 We have been traveling for 7(ish) days. The ish is because we were trapped in Detroit for an extra 24 hours, making our stay in Munich incredibly brief before we jumped on a night train to Warsaw. The travel gods are not fans of us (or the hundreds of thousands of others stranded all over the world) after CrowdStrike leveled the playing field and unapologetically grounded us all. Our luggage finally caught up with 3/4 of  us on day 6 -- Tracy’s luggage has now been assigned a “claim number” and has been “located,” whatever that means. Although we despise fast fashion ethically, we embraced it unapologetically, as we could get underwear and socks and t-shirts in our diverse sizes quickly and cheaply.

It’s been an incredible trip so far, full of “stop-and-take-note” reminders.

1. 
   I don’t need much to be perfectly comfortable. Two clean pair of undies, comfy shoes, a bra without wires, socks that don’t smell like French cheese, something to change into so that I can wash what I’m wearing…this is all I really need. A toothbrush and deodorant. A hair tie. 
   

1.1: the reality -- after 6 days, the ability to actually wash my hair and put on pajama pants was a tiny piece of heaven. Sign me up for the American excess. Do I need 50 t-shirts and 50 pair of shoes? No, I do not. Do I need 5-10 of each? I’m gonna say yes. Even the comfiest of shoes will give blisters after a while; even the best-fitting T-shirt will tag you as a frumpy American when everyone else is wearing beige on purpose. 

2. People in Europe are ridiculously nice. The French? The German? The Poles? Really nice. It’s not hard to be respectful and kind and if you are respectful and kind, it’s amazing how kind they are back at ya. Do Europeans stare more than Americans? Yes. That will always be unsettling, because we Americans spend the majority of our lives pretending that we aren’t looking and we are trying to avoid eye-contact. But are Europeans rude? Nah. They are just living their lives. We are the ones invading their space and demanding they drop everything and assist us, whilst also speaking our language. 

2.1: It’s not hard -- It’s amazing how far a please, a thank you, a “check please” dropped in the language of the country you are in adds to the goodwill. It’s a tiny thing, to learn how to say “thank you” in Polish. And of course I sound ridiculous saying it. But every single time, my attempt brings out a genuine smile, a head nod, and a genuinely friendly response in Polish. I think about how important it is to feel seen, and I wonder if it’s just that -- just by trying to honor a tiny bit of their language, of their culture, it shows that we respect the people here and the land that we are on. It doesn’t take much to show people that you see them. That you are thankful to be here, and that you are thankful for their hospitality.

3. The resilience here never ceases to amaze me. Germany, Poland, France - they were decimated by the war. It doesn’t really matter who dropped the bombs and who set the world on fire at this point. What matters is that these countries regrouped, these cities rebuilt, and these people are incredibly resilient. Warsaw was literally leveled in 1945, not because it was strategic, but because Hitler was angry and losing. But Warsaw rebuilt from nothing. They have every single reason in the universe to be pissed at the world, and yet they welcome us with a smile. 

3.1: We have a lot to learn --  In America, we demand they speak OUR language. We don’t bend over backwards to help the foreign among us at all. Our American exceptionalism has a lot to learn from the hospitality of others. We are the selfish, cranky tweens on this globe, and we could stand to learn a lot from our elders.

I hope I have time to write about each of the cities we’ve been in, before they all meld into one hazy memory of an incredible moment in my life with some of my favorite people. I want to write about the awesome Arab neighborhood that we stayed in in Munich; I want to write about the conversations I held in German and how incredibly kind people were to honor my attempts and stay in the German language, even though their English was probably better than mine…I want to write about the energy in the city of Warsaw and their defiance in the face of total annihilation; I want to write about the amazing airbnbs we have been able to book, and how life-changing it is to be in control of our own timing and meals and sleeping arrangements; I want to write about the need to honor our own need for rest and for vacation, even though we are in incredible places and we want to see and do everything; I want to write about public transportation and how freeing it is to be able to go to any city here -- regardless of language -- and figure out how to get from point A to point B without having to get into a stranger’s car; I want to write about the incredible food (and did I mention the Polish Vodka?) and the colors and the music and the vibrancy of life.

But for now, I’m going to reflect on how incredibly lucky I am to be here, experiencing all of this. I want to soak it in, this amazing 17 days with some of the people I love most in this world. I’m going to pour myself a shot of the most incredible Vodka I have ever tasted. And I’m going to think long and hard about what it means to be American, where war has never truly come to us, where we are fast to judge and slow to forgive, where we have the world at our fingertips, but we often can’t see down the bridge of our own noses to see -- and embrace -- what it truly means to be a member of the global mess that is humanity.