Yesterday was my first holiday outside of the United States living as an expat.
First of all, I hate the term "expat."
It's short for expatriate, which is the term used for those who are temporarily living in a country other than their country of origin.
And expatriate sounds a lot like expatriot, meaning someone who no longer wants to be an American.
And that is NOT me!
So I entered the holiday with great trepidation, knowing I was going to be pretty homesick for sparklers, cookouts, watermelon, and apple pie. Not to mention the lack of family.
Ian and I slept in on Sunday (we go to church on Friday nights here in Vancouver,) and headed for the downtown area. There was a Jazz Fest wrapping up that day, and we parked ourselves on our picnic blanket, chowed down on a picnic lunch, and enjoyed some awesome music for awhile.
Also, there were alot of hippies there. And a little bit of yuppies. Also, there were only white people. I think jazz fests need to be added to the "Stuff White People Like," book. It was surprisingly undiverse.
If that's even a word.
We headed to this downtown area to get Ian some schwarma (uh..Middle Eastern wrap, kind of like a Turkish Donnaire,) and me to get some McDonald's. Because I wanted to be American.
But then Ian gave me a bit of the schwarma and a I was all "forget America, I love the Middle East!" all over again.
We hopped onto the train and went to a mall to see Toy Story 3, because, we figured, that's American!
But the next showing wasn't for an hour and a half, so we went home.
And there were no fireworks.
Or, apple pie.
And I was pretty gloomy.
Yup, so that's my story. Not exactly as peppy and up beat as everyone else's 4th of July, but I guess that's just how it is!
Hey, I can look forward to 4th of July 2013....the next time I'll be visiting the states!