Last week I was walking through my Boston, feeling bestranged. Noticing, maybe more than ever, how much I am not American, sensitized towards differences. Factually, nothing has changed really after the election of Donald Trump, at least not yet. And not for me anyways – as a white Western European. My feeling has, though.
Last week my feeling towards this country has been deeply challenged. I have known for a while now that my appreciation for the United States stems from the fact that it presents me with great career opportunities and a way of going about life that is harder to find in Germany. Settling in a part of town that could easily be mistaken for a European city, spending my leisure time with other immigrants, and ultimately dating an immigrant enables me to be very much European in the America.
Last week I was, once again, amazed by the beautiful landscape & hospitality this country has to offer. Driving through the states of New York and Vermont, tasting Pinot Noirs, hiking Green Mountain trails, replenishing.
I have long accepted the fact that while Germany is my home, it is not the place where I am home. Yet last week it became very clear that I also do not belong to the US. And that is ok. Ok for now, especially after such wonderful fall memories of 2016: