Happy 4th of July to all of my American friends and family!
Sadly, I never realized how special this day was to me until I spent my first Independence Day outside of the States. It’s a day I associate with hotdogs, volleyball, Sandlot, sparklers, fireflies, laughter, swimming, beeritas, red, white, blue, and family. I missed out on the majority of those delights, but Georgia served as a pretty good substitute.
My first pleasant surprise was being greeted at the office on Thursday with hugs, kisses, and many iterations of “Congratulations on your country’s independence!”, as if it had happened yesterday.
I spent the evening at my second home, Dive Bar, run by a few Peace Corps vets and their Georgian loved ones. A French friend presented me with a collection of celebratory stickers of American flags and Uncle Sams, and a Barack Obama t-shirt. I ate a hot dog. I met up with two Georgian classmates from Harvard. I played beer pong. I heard some fireworks, though I failed to actually see them. I was accosted by a Texan who yelled “I hate America!” and told me that “people like you” are destroying third world countries. It was a great night.