America isn’t the Best at Everything, and I’m okay with that

I almost titled this piece Why Every American Should Live Abroad, but the fact is that living abroad is a profound privilege which my husband and I are aware of every day. We were privileged to moved to Mexico City eight months ago to live out an adventure I’de been dreaming about for years. My husband landed a new job that allowed him to work remotely, we obtained our temporary residency visas, we rented out our condo in Washington, DC, put all of out things in storage, and then boarded a one-way flight toward the biggest risk we’ve ever taken. If you’re interested in reading more in-depth posts about each of these steps, please click here.

We’re both Type A planners, so we did extensive amounts of research before our move. We knew which neighborhoods we wanted to live in, I knew which Spanish school I wanted to enroll in, and my husband even pre-signed a contract with a WeWork location so that he didn’t miss a single day of work. All of our planning paid off because very little has surprised us, and we’ve encountered very few hurdles. The one thing research couldn’t prepare us for, however, is what it’s like to be an American expat in a time of strenuous international relationships.

For anyone who has every moved, even if just to the town next door, you understand what it’s like to engage in the same introductory conversation for months. What’s your name? What brought you here? Are you married? What do you do?

Where are you from?

This seemingly innocent question never caused me pause prior to moving to Mexico, but it has become one of the most complicated questions to answer.

Soy estadounidense (I’m American) is no longer a response that fills me with pride, in fact, each time I say this my stomach drops and a blanket of embarrassment weighs me down. Admittedly, this feeling is all my own. Everyone we’ve met here is warm, welcoming, and could honestly care less, because they inherently understand that I am not my government. However, I also inherently understand that my government is my ambassador around the world. What the president says matters, and in a bizarre way I’m more acutely aware of his words here then I was living just two miles from his home in DC. While living abroad in a time of Trump lies and rhetoric certainly has its challenges, it has also provided us an opportunity to truly evaluate what it means to be American.

One of the most liberating consequences of living abroad has been learning that the US isn’t the best at everything.

Yes, there are things that I miss from home, like the abundance of trash cans and recycling bins on ever corner, and the general lack of cigarette smoke I was forced to inhale while walking down the street, but one of the most liberating consequences of living abroad has been learning that the US isn’t the best at everything.

And guess what? The world isn’t crumbling down around me nor have I been struck by lighting for admitting this truth. As Americans we are raised to believe that we are the best and the brightest, and in many measurable aspects we are. We’ve won more Summer Olympic medals than any other country since 1896, because our facilities and sports training programs are arguably the best in the world. We continue to esport the best entertainment in the world across music, movies, and TV, and we’ve produced the highest number of Nobel Prize winners. Obviously we are doing some things right.

However, I think it’s time to admit that we are no longer the best at everything, and that we are no less American for saying it. In fact, I believe that continuing to hide under a blanket pretending that things are perfect goes against Americanism at its core. Our country is built on a tradition of speaking up when change is in order.

So what have I noticed in my short time living in Mexico City? People actually take a lunch break. I know this because in the middle of the afternoon it’s nearly impossible to walk on the sidewalk as I weave in and out of packed taco stands. Mexico’s ability to hold on to its laid back culture may appear to outsiders as lazy, but in reality it’s the culture acknowledging that there are things more important than work. I’ve also come to love Sundays, because even as a non-Christian I appreciate this culturally designated day of rest, where many stores close, neighborhoods go quiet, and most families can be found spending time together in the park or around a dinner table. As a woman, it’s been particularly striking and pleasant to finally live in a world without as much focus on thinness; a place where carbohydrates aren’t demonized, and an afternoon ice cream break is encouraged. Mexico still has a lot of work to accomplish, don’t get me wrong, but so does the US, so it’s time to come to terms with the fact that we are just the same as everyone else, and that’s perfectly okay.