When we were visiting the UK's territory, I was able to sit down and talk with one of the employees of the base. The man's name was Euros. We spoke for a long time. We ended our conversation with a handshake and him signing his name in my travel journal. Our conversation was diverse in topic, but one aspect of our conversation stands out to me, and that was the emphasis on speaking about our hometowns. Euros, a man in his early 50's, has lived a short distance from where we spoke his entire life. He declared that he would never leave, for that he loved the sea and his home. Euros had a type of affection for his hometown that I believe is rare to find in the United States. I have met very few people who plan on residing in the community they were raised in.
Reflecting on my own hometown, I can remember the resentment of the community well. It was common to bash my hometown. At parties, school or even practice, the topic of escaping our town was a requisite of conversation. It was a common ground in high school and remains a common ground in college. These trite phrases of our teenage angst were never truly outgrown. It's strange. Examining the relationship between people and their communities, I do believe that Americans have a very clear distinguishable difference in their attitudes compared to certain countries in Europe. Not only in the conversation I had with Euros, but with several other individuals I have met over the past month have a certain tenderness in their heart for their home.
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