My America

As I walk down the street from work to the bus station, through an area that even Bob described as "American" because of its industrialized look, I find myself missing America. As long as I don't see the lake, the mountains, and the bread, my heart feels free to miss everything I lived for those short seven years in the US. I thought to make a list, in the organized, efficient style of Americans that has always fitted me so well.

I miss the endless possibilities of America, that feeling that you can do anything you want and be anybody you want. It drives some people crazy, I know. But for me, it was just the right amount of hope.

I miss English. In the midst of refreshing my French, I realized how important and dear the English language is for me. I want to read and write in English. Like America, English is full of possibilities, you can express yourself in a thousand different ways, at a thousand different levels. It's such a democratic language!

I miss the music. Somehow I felt closer to it in the US, I don't understand why.

I miss that sense of excellence that rubbed off on me and then stayed for a while until the Swiss modesty quietly took over.

I miss Patti and I miss Frances, my two friends.