By my recollection, today marks my fifth time celebrating the 4th of July abroad. In no particular order, I’ve spent the day lounging at a beach outside Barcelona, begging for a seat and consequently sitting on a jumpseat beside an armed guard between the Lima and Cuzco airports, meandering through the streets of Rome, and swinging champagne and singing along to John Denver with other passengers flying from Sydney, Australia (Qantas customer-service is incomprehensibly superior to US airlines). Without fail, the day involves consumption of American food even if it’s only McDonald’s, new expat friends, a few listens of Lee Greenwood’s “Proud to be an American”, and time for ruminating what the song means.
Today was no exception as I began my holiday observance in Paris sitting in the garden at the Rodin museum gazing up at The Thinker listening to my favorite American tune (more on Paris trip in a subsequent post). See photo below.
I enjoyed contraband Budweiser and swapped travel stories abroad the train to Strasburg with a group of recent college grads making the European transition to adulthood pilgrimage. To cap off the day, I had dinner in Basel with a friendly face from home, Professor Welsh. He’s one of my MIT advisors and will be accompanying me to work tomorrow to check on my project progression. Though there were no fireworks, ballpark franks, or Boston Pops, as always 4th of July abroad morphed into a memorable experience befitting of the occasion. Alles Gute zum Geburtstag Amerika!
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