On Embracing my Unmistakable American-ness

Oct 18

Oct 18 On Embracing my Unmistakable American-ness

There is no better way to understand exactly what makes you Captial-A American than to drop yourself in another country and then laugh in your failed attempts to blend in. While it is easier than ever to get around like a local thanks to google maps and pocket technology, it is still as hard as ever to understand and interact within different cultural and societal norms.

It comes up in little ways, but it comes up nearly every day. From the shopkeeper who was appalled by the way we were pawing the merchandise (Eli started to take something off a mannequin and we got a clear “nay!” in response), to the fact that we seem to take about 15% as long as all other diners in a restaurant and surprise the wait staff every time with our request for a check; to how much we’d like to be – but never will be – Dutch cyclists.

Sometimes I can fake it. Like, the grocery store check-out clerk asks three questions in Dutch: The first is something about using your Bonus Card (Jaa!), the second is something about collecting points towards free glassware on a stamp card (Nee, dank u wel!), and the third is for a receipt (Jaa of nee, depending on the situation!).

I always feel proud when I clear all of these hurdles without the store clerk transitioning to English. Heaven help me when they change the glassware promo to something new.

And yet, I was totally thrown the other day by a new question that was something about a kaas tas to which I just looked at the cashier in stunned silence because I had never practiced answering a question about cheese bags before. She was lucky I didn’t answer in Spanish.

These we are doing it wrong moments are exasperated by some puffed up sense of pride in me to not be mistaken for a mere tourist. Eli has rolled his eyes many a time as some friendly person says, “Are you enjoying your visit to Amsterdam?” And, I’m all, “We live here!” as though this is some critical distinction in small talk.

School is a whole other realm of odd multicultural mash-ups. With few American families in the whole school and, as an example, ten different native languages spoken by the students in Ben’s classroom alone, I feel almost like “American” is a role that I am playing: She’s outgoing and friendly! She looks like she’s going sporting, but that’s just how she dresses! She’s Ben and Norah’s mom! (Jazz hands for emphasis!)

But, I’ve come to embrace this as a core part of my identity. As Tayari Jones writes in An American Marriage, “Home isn’t where you land; home is where you launch. You can’t pick your home any more than you can choose your family. In poker, you get five cards. Three of them you can swap out, but two are yours to keep: family and native land.”

So, I smile now as I think about the school acquaintance who is from Brazil and embraces me warmly with a kiss on each cheek when we meet, while another from Japan nods a discreet hello with her hands folded regally. And, as for me, I do my big, American, friendly two handed wave with a little tap-dancey-two-step to everyone on the playground as I come by.

It also then is not surprising that my newest and closest friend here in Amsterdam is another American, Andie, whose stories make me laugh, make me think, and make me feel like we’re living a parallel existence.

A final, interesting note on all of this is that the kids either are quick to not notice their baggage or to simply throw it off and embrace what is new. Other than missing a few people and (junky) foods from home, Norah and Ben are quickly becoming European. The way they navigate the city, their ability to read and pronounce Dutch words, and the incredible way they have made new friends, speaks volumes to how universally human we all are too.

If we were staying longer, my prediction would be that my American tendencies would continue to sharpen while the kids would continue to dull. For now, I think we’re all getting immersed just enough to make it hard to come home.