Chicago

When I was travelling abroad, I would often say I was from near Chicago. Though where I grew up is not exactly "near" Chicago, when you are describing where you are on the world stage it gets the point across. Tonight I am reminded of a couple of scenarios in which Chicago - and ultimately, the American ideal - cut across cultures.

The first is in Morocco. I was on a day-long bus ride from Tangier to Nador. A funny aside: on this bus ride, we had gone for about 2 hours through mountains without seeing anyone. It was me, two other American girls, and a bus load of men in traditional dress. We had not seen another car, bus or village. I desparately had to go to the bathroom. I finally asked the bus attendant, a gracious Muslim man, if we could pull over so I could use the facilities... i.e. nature. Just as I pulled down my pants, a bus load of Muslim men drove by, staring at my bare bottom!

Anyway, it was on this bus ride that I saw a little cafe called "Cafe Chicago" in a small Moroccan village in the mountains. What is it about our country that encourages a man who has probably never been to America to name his cafe after a great city in our country?

Another incident was late at night at a Czech bar in Prague. I got in a great conversation with a Czech gentleman who had spent a year in Chicago and some of the traditionally Czech neighborhoods surrounding the city. He loved it. He was so excited to hear I had been there and was from those parts. Anyway, it is a great city and I am glad that it is loved throughout the world.