There are things, events, that are typically American. Holidays, traditions, ceremonies, that are specifically meaningful to those who belong to the United States. This past year, I’ve spent Thanksgiving in Europe. I spent the presidential election, race, campaign, and night itself, in Scotland. Martin Luther King Day was spent in the United Kingdom, and all the Aggie football games I normally follow religiously, in person at Kyle field, were seen not in the student section of that familiar football stadium, but on my computer screen. All of these I managed to still celebrate, still managed to feel like I was a part of, but the American event that I felt strangest not being in the United States was…the Super Bowl.
That’s right. More than turkey and cranberry sauce, more than electing the 44th President of the United States, I miss the Super Bowl.
This year marked the first time that I can remember NOT celebrating the Super Bowl. Usually, every year calls for friends, chicken wings, unlimited chips and salsa, and a television binge of hilarious commercials and watching grown men hurl themselves at each other in a bloody race for the ultimate American victory. I never really follow the NFL all that closely, but when the Super Bowl rolls around, I’ve always had to watch the game.
I think it was the strangest American thing to ‘miss’ because of the lack of international following. That may seem obvious, but let me explain. The Presidential election was not limited to the States in terms of audience reach; friends of mine from all over the world tuned in the night/early morning to see the outcome, to participate in the discussions, and to either celebrate or not celebrate the result. Even though I was across the Atlantic Ocean, I felt like people around me were still engaged. Thanksgiving was less so, but still part of the cultural calendar in the United Kingdom. No, there weren’t Pilgrim and Indian plays, and not everyone made turkey dinners, but a fair number of my British friends wished me a “Happy Thanksgiving” and turkey dinners did pop up around my friend circle.
The Super Bowl was another matter. I have perhaps two friends over here who even follow the National Football League at all—these friends did watch the Super Bowl, but didn’t throw a Super Bowl party. The International Office at the University of Edinburgh was rumored to have thrown a party, but I never saw flyers, signs, or any Facebook advertisement for anything whatsoever. With Thanksgiving and the election, I at least felt like I wasn’t the only one participating—the Super Bowl was almost completely absent from conversation this year. Which was weird.
It got me to thinking—how much of ourselves is defined by where we grew up and how much is defined by where we are now? At what point do we lose our old habits, cultures, and traditions and take up those of the new place? Is there ever such a thing as true integration, or is it one or the other? I don’t know if there’s a simple answer to this. I’d like to think that I’ll always have some pretty strong Texas parts in me, but if I end up somewhere where no one around me knows about or is willing to hear about my home town or home country traditions, I’m worried those parts of me might disappear.
I haven’t met a single Aggie (people who attend or attended Texas A&M University) in Edinburgh yet, and still, when someone mentions something exciting, I whoop, much to the surprise of those around me. "Whooping" is an Aggie tradition, in which we loudly and in a high pitch "whoop"--pretty much exactly what it sounds like. If you visit the A&M campus, you can randomly hear whooping all around. I’ve been away from Aggieland for over 6 months now, and I’m still whooping—but will I be audibly whooping in another year? I guess we’ll just have to see, but maybe it’s about choice, about making the definite choice to retain or let go of old parts of yourself.
Anyway, that’s the latest in my series of pseudo-introspective insights from living abroad. More to come!
Peace, y’all. 
