Things Foreign

I know I promised to post about Rome and it just didn't happen. Here's just a little bit of my post-trip thoughts on being in a foreign country.

I was picked up from the airport back in the states, exhausted, ready to see my family. I was so fat on rich experiences and Italian food that sleep was as welcome as it is after thanksgiving feast. Processing the experience would take some time, but for then, I knew that each day was wonderful and for every moment there and back, I was thankful.

We drove on the same familiar old freeway, and ate the same familiar old food. And it was good. Irvine and surrounding cities in Orange County have come far with the bustling of suburbia and its necessary means for survival: three costume warehouses, for example, occupy large amounts of space within a fifteen mile radius as well as some sort of church on every corner. It's no wonder that the world's number one problem with Christianity is the hypocrisy that taints a dogmatic set of beliefs.
Anyways, these costume stores wouldn't be able to sell so many costumes, thereby sustaining their business, if the market of demand didn't support it. This same image based culture has a billboard every couple miles telling women they are too fat and offering some weird solution on how to solve the problem.
This is the America that bugs me, that gets on my nerves, that makes me embarrassed to be united with one nation NOT under God because the people mostly reject Him, or use Him. Every evening I see the outline of the sun setting, blocked by houses that look the same as mine, occupied by neighbors who aren't safe and see me as equally unsafe. That is to say, they are good, law-abiding citizens, but there remains a barrier which cannot be broken by small talk and so, my soul and their soul remain estranged because of fear. With celebrity worship and postmodernist religions at their highest level of membership than ever before, tolerance is just another way of muddling our minds and becoming more and more isolated with bigotry being no solution. The people need something to unite them, this is in our nature, read Animal Farm... you know what happened to them. And don't even get me started about the corruption of our politicians, level of debt, or waste of tax dollars. This is the America that there is no hope for.

I am, however, an American and, whether by my life or death, this is the country that I swear allegiance to. This is the country whose laws I will obey, the country whose language I speak. This is the country where I received my education Under God, and thereby the country where God has given me citizenship with perspective to my real citizenship in my real home in heaven. This place may no longer be the land of the free and the home of the brave, but I am free. I am brave. What does this have to do with my trip to Rome?

Expectations. While my trip was certainly magical, it was not magical in the way that I thought it would be. When I thought of this foreign country on the plane with their different currencies, customs, traditions, beliefs, and atmospheres, my only point of reference was the place I spent all my life. I knew it was going to be different but again, my only point of reference was mostly American-made films and photographs. We landed and in the hustle and bustle of transportation, settling in, finding a grocery store, bank, and gelato shop, it all felt very normal.
I went on a train through Tuscan countryside... twice. This was the place I dreamed about since the very first travel book I ever opened. It was just as beautiful as I envisioned it. Rome proper too, was just like the pictures. Except for a few things: as in L.A. or NYC, there was trash and grafiti along many of the alley ways and walls. Homeless beggars and many swindlers paced to and fro around many of the popular regions of Rome proper. Like in any metropolis, gypsies worked the subway systems and even gave someone in our own group a run for their money (the gypsy did not succeed in her attempts). Cobblestone streets reminded us daily of the rich history that built this place, old and corrupt, but somehow thriving. Retro-chic vespas would fly by and us Americans would exchange delighted smiles or point it out so everyone saw. Construction is just as loud in foreign places. McDonalds is just more expensive. Tourist trinkets are just as cheasy. Nutella crepes? Well now, those just can't be duplicated.

The truth is, I had forgotten. I had forgotten how beautiful my land is because I got bored by advertisements and storefronts. Beach pictures are not overrated. City life is a window into human condition. My flag represents our incredible, albeit brief, history. Our legacy both good and bad reaches far beyond our shores and influences fashion, enterprise, and even supports foreign economies with our tourists. So much American music was played in their shops, bakeries, coffee houses, and ipods. I was different during my day alone then I was when sharing the community of the rest of my group. Alone, I was just one little American in a sea of people among whom I didn't belong. Together we Americans shared something, kind of like a family... and that was our land. Our land extended hundreds of thousands of miles reaching across all regions including mountains, deserts, valleys, bodies of waters, canyons, ocean peninsulas, high elevations, low elevations, beautiful landscapes, rich soil, and colorful vegetation. Each state brings its own unique personality to the union. California: the golden state. Each metropolis closest to each of our places of origin are similar in some ways and unique in their own... Like Rome.

I had dreamed for so long that foreign experience would be life changing and show me a world different from what I had known all my life. While my eyes were opened to those things, the thing that will most stick with me, however, is what I learned as I stepped off the plane and back into the arms of my America. And that is perspective. Italy is beautiful, but so is America. I forgot that. Not that stars and stripes are blinding me from the before mentioned consumerism and corruption of my culture, but that America represents and ideal worth belonging to, and worth fighting for: freedom, and along with that: freedom of religion and enterprise. Bravery, and along with that: the responsibility to stand up to the injustice of the world. I was inspired to a new level of American pride because of my foreign experience and I have Italy to thank for that, for among the rich experiences I had learning about ancient, times, heroes, dictators, sites, and stories, I learned that seeing the world is wonderful and exciting, but seeing my own place for what it is is just as important if not more so. I have dual citizenship right now with America, and Heaven but I know my heart was made for heaven, my body made for America. My mind must understand this world in light of my country and understand my country in light of heaven. Thanks Rome. You were fun. Now back to my America.