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"The idea of it is so all-American — and I haven't been able to find the equivalent of it since moving."
My biggest culture shock when I moved abroad was realizing just how hard it is to broach the subject of race in casual conversation. Sure, it's not a walk in the park in the States either, but at least I can be confident that people won't look at me as if I've started a fire.
Along the same lines, I long to have an extensive community of Asians who understand exactly what I'm going through — people who understand the specific-to-Asians hurdles of being an immigrant in a country, whether it's the US or Germany. I was lucky enough to have that when I lived in both LA and NYC, but Germany's small minority of Asian locals has made creating that same community harder.
I've never been a big Disneyland fanatic. Is it weird that ever since moving to Berlin, I've fantasized regularly about visiting Disneyland? I daydream about immersing myself in a colorful, cartoonish ecosphere where every single visual element is designed for pure entertainment. I dream of powdery funnel cakes that coat my mouth with sugar. I burn with the need to spend $100 on Disney-themed souvenirs I will wear unironically. One thing's for sure: The first thing I'm planning when I go back to the States is a trip to Disneyland.
There are the classics, like Hot Cheetos, Ruffles, and Cool Ranch Doritos, but also the Papa's Pops skinless popcorn, Terra chips, and ALL of the Girl Scout cookies. There's literally no equivalent here to any of the above, and I am convinced that snack-making is an American-bred skill.
It's the same refrain: As soon as I moved abroad, I started missing the most unexpected things. My alma mater, Scripps College, was one of them. I didn't love college with much intensity, so it's weird just how deeply I long to be back at my old campus. I hit my thirties for the first time last year, so my nostalgia might be tied to some youthful reminiscing. But it's also the fact that the idea of a "college campus" is so all-American, and a concept whose equal I haven't found in Germany.
There's a reason why many Americans living in Germany make it a point to stock up on meds like ibuprofen, melatonin, and acetaminophen when they're back home. Anything more potent than a simple vitamin isn't sold at your local grocery store here and is a pain to shop for. I miss the days when I could pop into a CVS and grab a Twix, an industrial-size bottle of Tylenol, Neosporin, and an iPhone charger all in one go. The convenience of American living is unparalleled.
As someone who's sitting in her 88-degree apartment with her blinds drawn and her fan running on high, I dream of a day when I can be back in an office so cold I need to put a sweater on. (I can't believe I ever complained about that.)
There's no one friendlier than an American stranger, and that's a fact. I yearn to be back in the States, where I can walk into any bar, networking event, or bouldering gym, and leave with plans to see at least one new friend for brunch the next week.
As someone who lives far from the people who know her the best and who can make my anxiety go away with a single word of support, I will never take the ability to see my family and close friends for granted. Now that my time in the US is limited, I truly do strive to live more in the present when I'm with them, because I know it'll be a long time until I see them again.