[Note: This was written on 2 July. . . I'm only getting around to sending it now. There's so much to say about things that have happened recently, but you know that I'd rather give a little thought to one topic than none to all.  I think this post only presents one side of my views in returning - my first impression.]

Those of you who have spent some time around me in the last few years know that I really love living in Europe/Oxford. I love the culture, the history, and the closeness of everything. I've spent so much time over there that I have greatly forgotten what it's like being in America. This summer I have a chance to reacquaint myself with the land of plenty, as I'm spending three months at Georgetown as a Visiting Researcher.  I landed on Friday, and my first recognition of culture shock was as I was filling out my landing card and designated the UK as my country of residence. I'm in the US as a visitor, much as I visited Switzerland, Belgium, or Italy. This is a strange land with customs that are foreign but still seem somewhat familiar.

Take, for example, that I am currently in a coffee shop in Arlington, Virginia. It's just the type of place I love. Tables with nicks and writing on them, a notice board overflowing with concert posters and other items of interest, a little patio with people smoking and reading the paper, light music in the background with the espresso machine whirring away. However, I'm distinctly aware that everyone who walks in is American. This threw me last night as well, when Emily and I went to the movies and I was commenting to myself how annoying American tourists are as they jabber on while walking down the street - until I remembered that they aren't actually tourists. This is their (my?) home territory, where their mannerisms are shared by all and taken as normal. The same goes for wearing t-shirts and shorts to go out to dinner. These are considered completely acceptable here, so it's no wonder why Americans don't have a clue what cultural lines they're crossing when the play the same game on the opposite side of the pond.

America is a culture about having. In Europe, it used to be (and to a great extent still is) the case that if you want a good coffee, you go to Vienna or Italy. If you want cheese, head to France. Beer, Germany or Belgium. Trains that come on time, Switzerland. In America, you just head to the nearest supermarket (in your car, of course). There, you will find a dozen different types of olives, chocolates from three continents, a hundred varieties of bread, and every fruit imaginable. You have no need to travel here if all you want is the tangible output of a culture. You are free to 'be your own person' outside of repressive cultural constraints, consuming as you choose because every'thing' is at your fingertips. There is, at least at first glance, a complete lack of institutional constraints on behaviour here. What does it mean?

It could mean that Americans have become creatures of their desires. If you have no dress code, no sense of social awareness or moral responsibility to others, it seems not unreasonable that you would become an atomised individual, able to believe whatever you wanted and see the world as you like without repercussions from others. It makes sense, in a way, that this is what America has become. After all, it is the land of opportunity, where a person shall not want nor be repressed. It's founded on a view that the world is a blank slate for our creating, a story yet to be written where the individual is the lead author.

This is all very apparent to me within 48 hours of arriving. However, what I have learned since leaving this land that contains every major geologic formation, climate, and natural resource, is that the rest of the world is very much not a blank slate, and the reason for this is that it is steeped in the culture that America lacks. Don't get me wrong - I find America very appealing, but strangely so now. It's almost like being here is like living on a diet of sweets. What do you want? America has it. Just the right coffee shop? That perfect slice of cheese? Friendly and efficient service? It's all just a short drive away. The consequence of having it all is that choice loses its significance. Should I get the Tuscan olives or the Greek ones? Should I design my house in Victorian, Han-ian, or Pueblo-ian style? What does it matter? Not a lick. Why not? Because it doesn't change the American frame of mind. Maybe one way to put it is that Americans live outside of culture. They put it on for special occasions, but it itches. It forces them to be aware of some things, to focus their mind into a particular way of thinking that brings with it an understanding of how they relate to others. Culture takes the emphasis off the individual and places it on the social system. It restricts choice, but in so doing it gives the choices that are remaining more significance. The less choice we have, the more our decisions mean. If life is about the generation of meaning, then the better life is one not where we have infinite choice, but one where we are able to choose wisely amidst a narrow range of choices.

My Italian coffee is done now.  I guess I should make another choice.