More than a decade ago, I lived for a couple of years in England. My (now) ex was stationed over there with the military, so we packed up our household goods and our baby and followed the flag. I expected life on British soil to be just like American life, but with a great accent.

I was so wrong. The British, in their homeland, are every bit as ethnocentric as we Americans in ours. They perhaps have far more right to it – hundreds of years of history and colonialism and cultural influence.

America is blinded by its own noveau riche self-importance. We are like the popular girl in school that is so certain that the universe revolves around her, that it begins to. Although it’s hard for we Americans to be open, and I was homesick at first, I shut up and learned. A lot! It’s a different perspective. They don’t think much of Americans and their attitude throughout the rest of the world – it’s not something to brag about.

I learned to take the train to the city, and the tube in London. I ordered milk for daily delivery, walked to market on Saturday, juggled a single car and paid a fortune for petrol. I learned to drive through roundabouts, had strong tea and condensed milk with my neighbors, and enjoyed living in a home with a beautiful garden and no shower. When I craved spicy food with my second pregnancy I learned that Indian and middle eastern food is really good, and that Mexican food is not something that can be easily found in the UK. Most importantly, I learned to value history as something I could touch and feel and experience as I lived beside it every day.

Standing in front of Buckingham Palace, I had a revelation. I tried and failed to count the number of languages I heard around me, as there were more people speaking languages that were foreign to me than English. (I learned German and Spanish in high school but they’ve since slipped away) I had the belated realization that my world view – at least as defined by the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis – is certainly not definitive, and probably a long way from a complete understanding!

When we first got there, I was very frustrated by my difficulty in finding a job. American dollars don’t go very far in the British economy, and my husband’s single income was tough to live on. I volunteered for a while, then got a job as a long term substitute teacher for the American junior high school. I wasn’t (and still am not) a certified teacher, but loved the work. The most incredible part of the job was the field trips! For history, we took the kids to Hadrian’s Wall and Churchill’s estate. For art, we wandered through the National and Tate Galleries in London. And for language arts, we mounted an expedition to London’s west end, to the theatre! Being able to touch the stones of Hadrian’s wall and see and feel how they were carved by the winds of time was such an incredible learning experience for the students.

The media overseas is, as Holy mentioned in her blog on American myopia, a revelatory experience. While there are only four, state-owned television channels in the UK, which are subject to censorship, they are amazing. The news is truly focused on the world at large, not only national news and tabloid fodder. The shows are incisive, funny, and creative. British humor rocks! The ads are often more risque than American ads are permitted to be. And the actors are more talented and healthy, much less overly skinny, toothpaste commercial perfect than their American counterparts.

I had my second baby over there – Zach was born in the RAF Lakenheath hospital. While I chose American medical care in the military hospital for myself and Zach, it was fascinating to learn about the British national health system. The British provide routine maternity care with a midwife, often give birth in a birthing center rather than a hospital, and provide home health care followup to the new mom and baby. That makes an awful lot of sense! Americans provide medical care with an obstetrician (or a nurse-practitioner), give birth in a hospital, and follow up by bringing the baby into the pediatrician.

The opportunity to actually live in England has spoiled me for the typical three-countries-in-seven-days tourist trip. I learned so much more about England – and about myself – by actually immersing myself in British life for a significant period of time than I would have in a whirlwind tour. By contrast, we went on a Mexican Riviera cruise a few years ago, where we spent a day each in Puerto Vallarta, Mazatlan and Cabo San Lucas. While it was great fun, we learned absolutely nothing about Mexico in a day – shoot, Cabo isn’t even really Mexico, more like a cultural extension of California.

At the same time, the opportunity to live overseas has given me an incurable appetite for travel. There are so many places I’d like to visit – or live – and really spend significant time. I want to understand their history, their culture, their contemporary issues, their language. I want to bask in their sunshine, explore side roads, try cafes & coffee shops, explore cathedrals, art galleries and antique markets, and listen to storytellers.

Someday. Soon!