Being in Europe isn’t nearly as strange as I imagined it to be. I was expecting the awkward feeling of being an outsider. A small redheaded girl on the fringe of society. Wide eyed and overwhelmed. I was expecting they could read me like a book, as though I had “I don’t belong here” written across my forehead. My Spanish, German, Italian accent as fake as the stereotypical American girl. I once again felt like I was a freshman at the first day of high school.
At moments, yes, this was me. When I didn’t know how the faucet turned off in the bathroom, when I watched the race trying to figure out P1 after the pit stops while only hearing Spanish through the PA system. Especially when I sat in the back of the car listening to Richy and Thomas speak about God only knows in Austrian.
However, most of the time, I overcame the fear of being the “freshman”. I nodded my head at Tino, the older Italian guy who helps prepare food, when he spoke Italian to me faster than American’s speak English. And I used broken Spanish with a shy smile on my face when the people at the hotel asked what I needed help with. The best moments, my moments of solace came when I heard clearly through the sound of cars, or while on the “motorway” on the way to hotel, a classic American song. Who ever thought “Manic Monday” would be the best security blanket. While I am in the states I tend to question everything America stands for, but in Europe, all I can think is God bless America for being so damn influential.
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