America through Travelers’ Eyes

“How do you say this?” my Chinese co-worker Oscar said while miming himself haphazardly putting on ChapStick.

“ChapStick?” I said, feeling a little confused as I stood near the counter at the Pioneer Grill, waiting for customers during a lull at work.

“OK! How do you say this?” he said while miming himself eating rapidly with chopsticks.

“Chooopsticks,” I said, getting his drift.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” he said excitedly. “The other day someone ask me for ChapStick. I thought they said chopsticks, so I hand them my chopsticks I carry with me, and they did not want them,” he said.

I cracked up. And so did he.

“Thank you sooo much for your help Sherri!!!”

I love working with internationals. It always makes me see my language and culture in a new light.

The other day I had a family from France who I served pancakes with maple syrup, and omelets with white toast. The three children spoke English better than most other French kids I had met. I asked the parents why their English was so good. They said it was because they watch T.V. in English.

“Great! What’s your favorite T.V. show?” I asked the kids.

“Zee Simpsons!” each child declared in a lilting French accent.

What a way to learn English.

Yesterday I had an adorable elderly British lady sit in my bay. She had soup for her meal and asked for ice cream for dessert. When I brought her her one scoop of strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone she almost fell out her spinning chair.

“Dear me!! Why everything is double the size here in America compared to England! How can I eat all this?! This is horrible!” she said.

I didn’t think having an extra-large ice cream cone could be that bad. But then we got to talking about how Americans waste so much food that could help so many countries. Right next to her an older couple had ordered two sandwiches, two massive platters of chili fries and onion rings, and huckleberry pie a la mode for just the two of them.

“But you all did help us in the War and send us food, so at least you all are generous,” she said while elegantly licking her strawberry ice cream.

I served a family of four from England four meals in a row during their stay. We had some lovely conversations. The 14-year-old son couldn’t get over how great America is: expansive, beautiful, different in each part of the country, delicious food, and cheap shopping.

“England is rubbish. I want to study in America and live here one day,” he said, his eyes glowing with delight as he took another bite of his chili dog.

Kiwis from New Zealand tell me how much the Grand Teton National Park reminds them of NZ. They feel like they get a taste of home while they are here.

I agree, and rave about how the first time I came here I felt like I was back in New Zealand driving on the vast, endless two lane roads through the mountains again. One Kiwi was so happy to hear me laud NZ he gave me a Silver Fern pin he carried with him to show his pride for the New Zealand All Blacks rugby team.

I had an Italian couple that for their drinks had half a cup of coffee and a hot cocoa with whip cream. I told them how much I miss Italian cappuccinos. They shared my woes, and said they are forced to drink Starbucks because that is the only coffee around, but mainly drink hot cocoas with whip cream in America because it is better than drinking bad coffee.

Japanese, Indians, Israelis, Germans, Thais, Brazilians the list goes on and on. Who knew I would get to visit with the world and see my country through their eyes while working in Wyoming.