Missing Europe

I miss Europe. It has only been a few days, I know. After all, we returned just this past Wednesday afternoon, and it is now only Saturday morning. It had been over thirteen years since my previous trip to Europe, and I do feel extremely privileged to have been blessed with such a wonderful trip as this one. Still, I miss it already. Intensely.

There is a certain way of life that, frankly, I feel is healthier in Europe. An outlook, a way of looking at things and doing things. Moreover, an acceptance of life and it's limitations. I am not saying all Europeans are more enlightened than Americans, or any such things. In fact, frankly, there were plenty of idiots on display during this trip, and perhaps I'll get into that in a little bit. But one thing that I think Europeans in general know how to do is enjoy little moments better. As was stated in a movie that Basia and I recently saw (Eat, Love, Pray), Americans simply don't know how to relax.

I know that the largest and often most successful economy in the world has traditionally been American. In fact, despite China's incredibly rapid economic growth (and how long can we rely on that continuing?), the United States still enjoys certain things that remain the envy of the rest of the world. It still enjoys the largest economy in the world, despite all of the growing problems here. Also, it is still the world's leading superpower, not just economically, but politically and culturally, as well. This is, of course, a source of pride for many Americans. Also, as I saw on this trip at various times and in different ways (with varying degrees of subtlety), many overseas still look up to all this. When you are far away from something, the grass always looks greener, and so many people outside of the United States almost feel patriotic towards it. They have an overly idealized image of what it is all about, having seen probably far too many American movies and television, and listened to American music all of their lives. They see the United States as being above, and in terms of sheer power and influence, perhaps, this might make sense.

But this brings to mind what my father has said about another, much earlier trip to Europe. We were in the French Alps for two weeks way back in 1987, when I was just still a kid. We decided to take one day and go visit Italy, which was really not all that far from the town that we were staying in, Embrun. So, we went ahead, and visited Italy. Not the most famous parts, or anything. We did not see Florence or Venice or Rome or Pisa or the Italian Riviera or Sicily. Hell, we did not even see Milan, although that would not be a laughable notion, given it's relative proximity to the French border. Instead, we headed towards Turin, one of the largest cities in Italy, which fairly recently hosted the Winter Olympic Games. Along the way, we passed through and visited a smaller Italian city, Suza.

Suza might not be as well known as some of those other places, but it was beautiful there nonetheless. A pretty and tidy city as I remember it, snugly nestled under the broad shoulders of the peaks of the surrounding mountains. This was, after all, in the Italian Alps. There is an alcoholic drink from this region, which is also called Suza. I have not seen it here in the United States, but as I recall, it seemed pretty common there, at least in Italy and the French Alps, if not France in general.

In any case, it was a very nice city, and it felt like a privilege to visit it. And my father has said, on more than one occasion, that the people living in the city of Suza have nothing to envy from anyone or anywhere else in the world. They are surrounded not just by natural beauty, but by architectural beauty as well. It has everything that you could possibly want in a city.

Now, here's the thing: there are a lot of towns like Suza in Europe. I visited a couple cities that were not that different during this recent trip, such as Sanok and Zakopane (both in Poland). These, like Suza, are cities that are blessed with not only gorgeous and healthy natural surroundings, but also the simple elegance of a typical European small city. You have the square, with some important buildings. You have old churches that tend to be far, far older than almost anything that you will find in the Americas. You have cobbled roads and sidewalk cafes. In some cases, you have castles, or other unique points of interest. Sanok itself had all of these, including the castle and a small village dating back many centuries, with thatched roofs (I will be writing a post on this, complete with pictures, in the relatively near future). We went to Sanok's town square on a gorgeous Friday afternoon (a week ago yesterday, in fact). It was mostly deserted, which surprised me. Perhaps later on, there would be more traces of nightlife, but when we were there, it was mostly empty and quiet. We ate at a restaurant, outside under an umbrella that shielded us from the bright sunshine. What few activities were going on in the square around us could be both seen and heard clearly. It was a very nice atmosphere, and we enjoyed good food.

It was not like visiting some other places, where the grandeur and/or importance of the place just blows you away. It was not the Wawel in Krakow, or the Louvre in Paris. It was not Versailles, with a ridiculously elaborate palace and gardened grounds surrounding it. This was not Paris or London or Rome or Berlin. Solina will not blow you away with the obvious architectural and artistic wonders of places that I still only yet dream of going, such as Vienna or Venice or Barcelona, or a region like Provence in France. It was a small, relatively obscure town in a far corner of a relatively small country in Europe. Yet, it was very pleasant. Writing about it now, I wish we were back over there right now, relaxing and sipping coffee and enjoying a pleasant meal. Watching the locals go about their day, tending to no obvious business. It is not a huge thing, it is a small thing. Yet, it is these kinds of small things, these small moments, that I find myself most often missing. Yes, I was impressed by the Louvre each time that I went. The same with Versailles. I am sure the reaction would be the same if I went to Rome, or the Prado, or Venice, or Florence, or Rome, or any of the other countless places that may just overwhelm with their artistic grandeur or historical significance, or both.

No, this was a small square in the center of a small city that will likely not be known, much less visited, by throngs of tourists. Yet, it was nice.

They say that small moments mean everything, and here, in essence is what I am trying to say: in Europe, they do it better than in the United States.

There, I said it, point-blank.

Here in the United States, it is very different. Americans tend to be, by and large, more consumeristic. More selfish, in other words. It might sound cliche to say it, and surely most Americans do not want to hear it, but there is some truth to it nevertheless, like it or not. Americans want bigger homes, bigger lawns, bigger cars, more things to decorate those large homes, more toys to keep them distracted. More, more, more. Bigger and better. Anything to keep us distracted from what may very well be a deep and very real unhappiness about our lives. We can hide it away with the brief rush of adrenaline that comes with getting the latest technological wonder, or seeing the newest blockbuster set to make waves and shatter ticket box office records. I know people who always get the next big thing, so to speak, and they always see that new, huge movie that everyone is talking about. Two guys in particular that I knew had to be the very first to get camera phones when they were the hottest thing, and they paid top dollar for it. It was a status symbol. Now, everyone has one. They were the first to get DVD players, also at premium prices. Now, you can get a new one for thirty dollars. They amassed a very large library of DVD's, getting the newest and coolest movies to have just come out on DVD. These same must buy DVD's often go for a fraction of the price now, as a new technology is being promoted for mass consumption. These guys were the first to get numerous other things that used to be the latest and the greatest, and now are irrelevant. If they still have these things at all - the fancy stereos for car or home, the once latest and greatest laptop of it's time, the once most coveted cell phone with internet, or any of the other wonderful things that once were on prominent display in the stores, then quickly passed to the general section, and eventually found their way to the bargain sections, and probably eventually the clearance section, then I would be surprised. If they still have them, they are likely occupying space and collecting dust in their oversized homes, and the owners of such things probably do not know what to do with them. Hopefully, they were handed down to grateful family members of friends. But this is not always the case.

In their place, surely, they have newer and even more elaborate home entertainment theaters with surround sound, probably rivaling the local theater. They have their Blue Ray player, and the Ipad, and other gadgets and gizmos that they show off to their friends and family, and perhaps, if they are particularly vane, to the Facebook audience and other internet communities.

Of course, this all comes at a price. I sometimes think that Americans, in their rush to catch up and then pass Europeans in every way, made so much of a point of trying to be different than Europeans, that they lost sight of the larger point. They tried to do things differently in every way, and that meant scrapping our historical places and such in a hurry. The cities on the East Coast have some historical buildings and neighborhoods, but these have not retained their older feel anywhere near on the level that European cities have managed to hold onto. You can see buildings like Faneiul Hall, or Fraunces Tavern. But the neighborhood betrays modernity. You cannot get anything remotely like the feel of an older age, of what things used to be like. There is history, but it is bookended by what reflections of what this society truly values the most, symbolized in glass and steel. Thus, a pleasant cup of coffee or a meal on a sidewalk cafe seems largely out of the question. It was never even an option until a few years ago, when the notion of sidewalk cafes began to actually be implemented, despite everybody knowing that they not only existed in Europe, but that people enjoyed going to them, as well. That included American tourists.

Being able to enjoy a place that looks more or les the same as it did centuries ago has a value, and many people understand this. But you have to get beyond seeing things strictly in a monetary sense, though. Not that jobs, or a healthy economy, is not important or enviable. of course it is. Each of these things has a certain value. It depends on whether you allow yourself to view, and judge, things based on their monetary value, or whether you are able to go beyond that, and recognize the value of things beyond money and status.

All I know is that right now, I miss some of those same very little things that Europe is so famous for.