As I spend more and more time in the heartlands of America, I'm starting to realize how deep I'm submerging into the culture of Americana, wherein driving for hours in a van is normal, and so are the twangy radio music I cycled through in Indiana, gigantic supermarkets like the Meijer we stopped in for dinner in Ohio, the almost unbearably cold A/C anywhere we go indoors, and also the public libraries, the fantastically cheap book sales and yard sales full of amazing, new-used stuff, and lots of community events (especially during the summer, it seems).
I don't like the first part, by which I'm starting to remember why it's so easy to get fat in the US, but the second part is seducing me into doubting whether living in Taiwan is better for the kids. At our dinner with Daniel's relatives tonight in downtown Buffalo, NY, Declan spent the majority of meal time investigating the exposed air conditioning system of the restaurant. It's clear to me that my son has an insatiable curiosity about how and why things work the way they do, and it makes me worry about his future encounter with the Taiwan school system, which if I recall correctly or have received accurate testimonies in recent years is excellent at crushing the creativity out of the very marrow of every soul (even the teachers). And being able to check out so many great books for the kids from the public library makes me feel like I've become a billionaire without the responsibility.
Sigh. The larger part of me honestly don't feel that the US is my home. Never had, probably never will. Its abundance and surface tranquility in light of what I know about the rest of the world makes me too uneasy to stay and feel comfortable as a resident. As a visitor, I am enthralled and mildly repulsed by the excess I see. But to stay would mean I need to come to terms somehow with such discrepancy. I am at a loss. And then there are my children... there is clearly so many opportunities for them here. My husband has so many typically American/well-adjusted/full of parental support childhood memories while my pleasant childhood memories are embedded throughout with the turmoil of my mom's mental and physical illness and all the moves and starting over every year; Naturally, it's easier for me to envision happy childhoods for the kids in the style of my husband's childhood. On the other hand, I'm already starting to hear the demanding brattiness growing in the kids' voices as they get used to what seems like free electricity/resources (tv, chauffeur options/destinations, giant fridge, unlimited food...)
I don't know I don't know. God, please remind me.
As we move back to Asia next year, we feel the same kinds of things that you do, even though we never had a childhood here. But we've come to feel the excess and comfort of the American life and feel a little uneasy living here. But then again, Singapore is much like Taiwan, or at least it was, with the intense competition for good grades and jobs, and I'm not sure it has changed much from when I was a kid.
ReplyDeleteI think we do tend to forget that through it all, God is in control. We can try to make the best decisions for our kids, but ultimately God can work wherever we are, to do whatever He wills. After all, he reached us despite our circumstances, didn't he? :)