Culture Shock

I was warned when I was getting ready for Europe that I may feel a bit of culture shock for the first few days. I prepared myself as well as I thought possible. Stepping off of our flight from NYC to Berlin, I felt confused. "Why would I have culture shock? These people look just like me...only they speak a different language?"
On the train home, again, I thought, "Culture shock? No, this place is beautiful!"
I quickly grew to love my surroundings, the culture, and mostly, the people.
Walking through the cobblestone streets of Germany and listening to the sidewalk music artists play their guitars, pianos, accordions, violins, etc...I felt as though I were in a dream. The weather was perfect, the people walked briskly to their destinations, gourmet food on every street corner, and beauty within every eye shot. I kept stepping back and thinking, "Is this real? Am I really here? On the other side of the world?"
Indeed I was.
There are a lot of things that confused me about Europe. Why do I have to pay 50 cents to use the toilette? Why do you all wait until you are five seconds away from running me over with your bike to ring your little bell at me? Why do you all smoke? Why is beer cheaper than tap water and why can't I have a refill?
They are the way they are.
Little things like that were the constant reminders to me that I was not in the US anymore.
As I sit here writing, my minds eye is flipping through images that I have seen thus far in Germany. I can see the palace gardens, hear nothing but birds singing, waterfalls, and the wind hitting the trees. What a magical experience this is.
Why would anyone warn me about such a place? I have felt more in danger walking around in Provo than here in Germany. The Turks are a bit scary I must admit. They protest about anything and everything and start fights with anyone who crosses their path. You stay away from the Turks! They have a specific look to them, they hang out in groups, walk around with large dogs, and look for trouble.
We had a few run ins with them, but just don't let them know you are American and you are fine. :)
On the buses we look at each other and say, "Auf Deutsch" when we feel someone is looking to start problems with Americans. (It means like, Speak to me in German)
So where is this so called, "Culture Shock"?
Oh...I found it.
The culture shock exists inside of my head and inside of my heart. When I think about returning to the US I feel anxiety. What is there for me? Why can't I have that here? Why do I HAVE to live in the US right now?
I don't.
And I know I don't. So that makes it harder to fathom returning. The culture shock exists when I imagine the JFK airport, the US media, the drama, the gas prices, the government, the hustle and bustle to get from one place to the other, and mostly, my real life.
There are a lot of things that I wanted to escape by leaving the US. I know that some issues will be there regardless of where I am geographically, but there is always that hope that maybe they will be gone by the time I get back.
The US is a wonderful country and I am an extremely proud American. There are just parts of other cultures that I wish we were more like. Slowing down. Walking or riding our bikes everywhere. Transportation systems. More efficient use of energy. (They have sensors on everything...if you aren't ON the escalator...it isn't moving.) I can think of many more.
When I asked people what they thought of America, they each responded with similar key words and phrases, "Busy", "Lights and Media", "Chaos", one girl even said, "They think they are better than us all."
It was really sad to hear opinions from people all over the world about my country.
I thought culture shock was what you felt arriving to an unknown destination and being forced into a culture too quickly.
I would've never expected that returning to my own country would be where the fear was buried.