We Live in Two Worlds

Literally, my Dutch husband and I live in two worlds. Two times a year (Spring and Fall) we travel from rural southwest Louisiana to the very small progressive European country of The Netherlands. Most of our acquaintances here in the US have had very little travel experience outside of Louisiana, much less out of the US. Our acquaintances in The Netherlands or elsewhere in Europe have traveled in Europe (and some even to the US), but few stay with the "natives."

But we actually "live"in two places/two worlds.

For eleven years we have socialized with the senior citizens at the local Baptist church here in the States. In other words, we have lunch once a month with the 5-15 oldtimers who show up at the church fellowship hall to talk through the young preacher's lesson and then eat a potluck lunch.

Today one of the faithful "keenagers" at the church asked my hubby what church we attended in The Netherlands. When he said, "We don't," she freaked out. She immediately shuffled over to me at another table and said she had asked the wrong question. I laughed, since there are no wrong questions. Then she looked at me and asked, "What do you two do over there? (meaning The Netherlands) Oh, I guess they have television."

I am still laughing twelve hours later. But I promised to bring her photos of The Netherlands and our apartment in the renovated 1920's Dutch high school so that she can see that we actually "live" a whole lot better in Europe than we do here in The Deep South of the United States.

What Are You? I am an American🇺🇸

Years ago my Dutch mother-in-law asked one of my teaching colleagues from The American School of the Hague the following question:"What are you?"

Henry and his lovely wife were both of Italian descent and had dark hair and olive complexion and had been stopped once or twice at immigration when traveling, according to Henry. As there were over 45 nationalities represented at the international school where we taught, what we were or what country we came from was never an issue.

My MIL had met this particular family before at our son's first birthday some ten years earlier. So now she was ready to ask the big question, "What are you?"

And Henry answered Ma's question just the way I expected he would.

"I am an American."