The 7 Details That Make Me Love America as A European

America is a different planet

1. How massive everything is

Huge nature, huge cars, huge beds. American like it big and it shows.

Everybody seems to own a truck. In Europe, I see one a month and know it must belong to a construction company.

Whatever beautiful nature you’ve seen in Europe (and we have lots of it), it’s small and silly compared to what they have in the US.

The massive empty beaches touched by an angry grey ocean, the way my friend told me to not get out by the side of the road at night because ‘something iz gonna get’ya’, the colossal skyscrapers, looking sad and weirdly cold in the scorching Miami heat, the immense forest areas where they never manage to find a body, the distance, the silence, the massive connection to everything and anything, feeling part of something grand, beautiful, and bigger than yourself.

There was this one time when my friend, who has a small drywall company, a truck, and 9 cats, drove me around the Jacksonville area, to show me where he grew up and the houses he worked on.

I remember the endless green, the everlasting ocean, and the feeling that there is no end to our lives. That we’re going to drive on forever.

And it felt right. It felt like home.

2. How clean everything is

This one was a shocker!

Especially after seeing so many Americans put their feet up right on the living room sofa. While still wearing their sneakers!

It’s a shock to many Europeans why anybody would do that to their own home and I have to admit — I thought it was just something they did in movies.

If you’re from anywhere else but the US, most of the movies you watch are still made in Hollywood, and you usually wonder how much of them is true about the American way of life.

Now there’s no secret to anybody that Hollywood has its own fair share of loonies and they have a way of distorting reality.

But let’s ignore that for a second. Let’s focus on the way Americans come home from wherever, throw themselves on their humongous king-sized beds, and don’t even notice their shoes are still on!

What’s going on there? Who would do such a thing? How clean are these people’s streets?

It turns out… incredibly clean.

So clean you can eat off them. Those images with the white picket fences in front of a fairy tale house, with shiny green grass? Those are real.

Everything looks new, shiny, polished, and cute. I was one step away from taking a nap on somebody’s perfectly manicured lawn, that’s how pretty and inviting it was.

But then I remembered Americans have guns.

My only guess was that everything looks so clean and fresh because it’s relatively new, at least compared to laden with history dingy old Europe.

3. How polite everyone is

I’ve heard from reputable sources this degree of extra-politeness only happens in certain areas of the country, but I was blessed to be there.

I found it so satisfying!

People were smiling at me in the street. Strangers were saying hello out of the blue. In my side of the world store clerks won’t even say hello if you say it first. They just ignore you and look the other way.

In the US they say hello, smile brightly, compliment your fuchsia sandals, offer you vanilla ice cream, and are one step away from giving you a shoulder massage.

Not making this up, it happened in Trader Joe’s, on La Brea and Third.

People were stopping me in the streets to pay me compliments.

And no, don’t imagine these were all men with a hidden agenda. They were people of various genders, ages, and interests.

There were no hidden agendas, they just saw something they liked and shared it, after which we were both plunged right back into the great unknown of the busy Los Angeles afternoon.

Sure, there were some men who also asked me out, but they did it in the sweetest way possible. They were nice, kind, and treated me like a human being.

Which I can’t say for the Eastern European men that are becoming such a trend these days.

The first day after I came back to my country, as I was waiting on the side of the street for a taxi to arrive, wearing a flowery sun dress, this guy stops his car, gets out, looks me up and down, and goes:

‘Fu*k me, you’re so fu*king hot. Wanna go out with me? I’ll show you a good time!”

I think I’ll pass…

4. How chill everyone is

Like glorious wide-eyed children who haven’t yet gone through the harshness of life, Americans seem to have a perpetual light on their faces.

They keep their shoulders high and their dreams higher. Their eyes are bright and there’s a permanent smile somewhere inside there, always ready to help or at least say something nice.

If you’re an American you probably don’t even notice it. But take a trip through Europe and you’ll see the heavy burden of the old continent on people’s faces.

You’ll see the shadow of dark circles underneath their eyes, their classy clothes that just look like they’re trying too hard, and the burden of the universe that seems to be resting on their shoulders.

Europe is tired, jaded, and needs a long rest in one of those all-inclusive spas where they also erase your memory.

America is a young nation that was born free and it shows.

5. How serious Americans are about their work.

The whole world knows that Americans’ whole lives revolve around work. And the whole world frowns upon their dedication to something so impersonal and cold.

It’s just that for Americans work is not impersonal.

They put their heart and soul into it, they care about the results of their efforts and take work very personally, even when working for somebody else.

Coming from a country where most employees are doing their absolute best to do the absolute minimum at their jobs, it’s so refreshing to see people who actually care. Even to the point of being workaholics.

6. How understanding Americans are of other people’s struggles.

I was taking the bus from midtown LA to the beach. An hour-long trip.

Right as we were about to arrive (must have been no more than 5 minutes left), the driver stops the bus on the side of the road, gets out, and leaves. Bus doors open and everything.

It was one of those hot and dry Californian days when the air seems to suddenly turn into dust and the sky is unbearably bright, like an uninterrupted atomic blast.

My first thought was that something was wrong with the bus and he was going to buy some tools from a nearby shop or ask for someone to help with on-the-spot repairs.

I looked around at the other travelers, mining their faces for answers.

This old black lady with a kind face and a funky orange hat, a woman in her thirties chewing gum and reading what looked like a very funny book, and a group of people that seemed to be part of a family who was satisfied with life and things just the way they were.

They looked as if they didn’t even notice there was nobody driving the bus.

I thought… when in LA… so I relaxed and waited, staring into the Californian void, waiting for the guy to fix the bus, letting the heat seep in through every pore.

Twelve minutes later, there he was. He looked content and almost giddy, coming towards the open bus door at a slow pace, carelessly lost in the moment, with an icy bottle of Pepsi in his hand.

I smiled at him. He just went to get a cold drink on a hot day. And nobody seemed to mind.

7. How Americans are masters of networking.

There are some who are good with people and then there are Americans.

My American friends are master-class networkers, chit-chatters, and friend-makers.

They talk to everybody and make friends wherever they go.

Three minutes into randomly meeting somebody by the side of the road, they already know he has 4 kids, the little one just started going to school, they have a pet dog named Fluffums, and his mother is diabetic but she wouldn’t stop eating marshmallows.

I didn’t make this up. It actually happened one time as we were driving from Los Angeles to Solvang and we stopped by the side of the road for the girls to have a smoke.

It was noon and the bright summer air was alive with the yellow explosion of a field of dry grass, stretching as far as the eyes could see, but from an unusually green solitary tree in the distance.

Next to us, there was another smaller and very feminine car, sporting huge plastic eyelashes, the kind you can stick above the car’s headlights so they look like eyes.

The eyelashes prompted the entire conversation above and ended with a series of exchanged phone numbers and emails, promising to keep in touch across Florida, North Carolina, California, and Iowa.

It was a beautiful moment, but it left me with one concern.

‘Is everybody so charming and warm in America, Tammy?’ I asked my friend, knowing that as an introvert, I had little chance of making it as a respectable member of society.

‘No, but the rest are just stuck up’, Tammy said matter-of-factly.

I burst into laughter and gave her a hug. It felt as if I was hugging all of America.

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