What Changed?

Going through the bags of American-made Halloween candy my mom sent, I realized something fundamental has changed between this journey and my year in England, now an incredible five years ago. Where I was savoring every cold Cadbury Fruit and Nut out of the vending machine at Oxford, I now find myself delighted with good old Hershey’s Kisses and Tollhouse Morsels imported from the USA. (I admit, I even bought a can of Coke for three bucks at Torres. And I never even drink soda at home. And while I admired English waiters for their slowness in bringing the check, I often bemoan Chilean disorganization and disinterest in “the customer.” Even my attitude towards Nescafe—which I religiously downed without flinching in the UK—is markedly different here. What changed, I have to wonder. Was it simple homesickness? Was it the difference between 21 and 26 (nearly)? The cultural disparities between the two countries? Was it that the economic crisis and heart-pounding election had inspired me a new and stronger passion for my country? Or was it, perhaps, that the Windy City suddenly felt like home to me—a place just too good to give up for another. Change is good—at 21, 26, or 62. But on this trip, I’m realizing that consistency—knowing better who you are and where you’re from—can be pretty good too.