I landed in San Francisco on Wednesday (as fate would have it on this Lufthansa flight all of the flight attendants spoke to me first in German and second in English--I guess when you're blond with blue eyes and flying out of Germany that's what happens) and now three days later I finally feel human enough to write a quick post.  Here's the thing, I wasn't sure what to expect upon returning to the States. I've been away for almost exactly a year.  It's not like many physical things change in a year but I've changed a lot and I didn't know what to think or how to prepare myself for what many describe as "reverse culture shock."

It turns out that I've been pleasantly surprised but what I've encountered thus far.  At US customs in San Francisco, there were two lines to stand in one for visitors and one for US Citizens.  I stood in the US Citizen line and loved it--well as much as you can after 16+ hours of flying and then being forced to wait in line with 100's of other people.  This said, the line was so diverse and I found myself looking around at all of the other Americans in line with me.

I've spent the past year in Bulgaria at the First English Language High School as representative of the United States.  I was "the native English speaker" and an authority on "life in America."  I answered questions about high schools, movies, music, holidays and much much more.  I taught a conversation class and included units on range of different topics including issues of diversity, pop culture and even on American consumer culture.  I was face and a voice to this place--America.

But looking around at customs, it was clear that I am not "the face" of America.  In fact, the face of America is changing and I found this thrilling to see.  America at it's best is a land of immigrants, hard work and fresh new ideas; this was more plain than ever as I looked around me. I am not America.  I am a part of America but I am not America--it is more than just me.  I knew this a year ago but then I spent the year trying to counter many of the stereotypes that my students and colleagues held about life in America.  So here it is: the streets may not be paved with gold and the American dream is far from a reality for most but nonetheless this is still a place of possibility and hope. <!--more-->

What I was struck by in customs was the fact that in some ways I'd forgotten this.  I left for Bulgaria after eight years of living under President Bush's government and I felt battered by this--abused and unsure of what it meant to be an American abroad.  Then in November of this past year, President Obama was elected and the next day at school my Bulgarian colleagues congratulated me as if I was somehow solely responsible for the win.  Change was in the air and on everyone's lips.  But talk of Obama quickly faded to an endless obsession with the economy and the crisis.  Yet another thing that America was clearly at the center of.  It's not easy to navigate waters like these.

And when American seems responsible for so much of what's happening in the world, you walk a fine line as a representative of the country abroad.  Especially given the contrasting myths and realities of what life is actually like in the United States.  I think it's safe to say that I was cautious in my language describing the States and often rather cynical. It's easier after all to be critical about a place than it is to describe the wonderful complexities of life there.

So in many ways it's funny that I spent the year trying to do this in my country--to describe the complexities of life in Sofia and more generally Bulgaria--while my own views and opinions of life in the States became more and more black and white and more and more critical.  Thus I didn't know what to expect upon returning to the States.  I didn't know what I would think or how I would feel.  And here's the thing, I found myself thrilled to be back in such a vibrant country.  The black and white that had begun to creep into my thinking was shattered.  And I am grateful for this.

I stood in line with Americans who looked like me and completely unlike me.  I heard lots of English but also Spanish and a number of other languages being spoken by my fellow Americans.  Some women were wearing head scarves and others shorts and flip-flops.  It's this mix of people, this jumble of languages and diversity of religions that makes this country such a special place but it's easy to forget this nuance when you live it and see it every day likewise it's just as easy to forget this nuance when you've lived away from it and the world you used to know seems so far way, so distant and sometimes even foreign.

So I stood in line and looked around and thought to myself: my god, this is America.  And I was glad to be back.