Not in America

It all started with the pirate ship playground. It's one of the first things I saw when we came into Luxembourg City on our house hunting trip. Adam parked the rental car and we were headed into the city center to get some lunch. Across the street was the behemoth ship and I went over and took a picture to send to Adam's parents who were watching our kids. I knew they'd die with excitement to play on it when they got here. After I got over the shock of the ship, I saw the slide. It was at least three stories high. And my America alarm went off. "That would never fly in America."

It was at Sienna's school during the morning of the doctor check up. I went just because I didn't know what they were going to do and I didn't want Sienna to be uncomfortable. The doctor check up was fine, nothing different than what we'd just had when we registered here a couple weeks ago. But then I went back to her classroom and all the kids had stripped down to their undies. They were ready for their check ups! "That would never fly in America."

It was house hunting and finding that each and every place we looked at had doors and windows that opened into nothingness, even several stories high. There were glass barriers up to my waist but that was it. "Do these have child proof locks on them?" I asked. The real estate agent didn't know what I was talking about. Also, screens? Are there no bugs here? So far there actually aren't that many bugs getting in the house ... or flies. And absolutely no child proof locks."That would never fly in America."




It was at the Vianden pool last weekend. We were ecstatic to be in the shadow of an incredible castle and the pools themselves were pristine, the hillside of picnickers so serene. We all four ventured into the big pool where the big, tall, twisty slide was shooting its slippery sliders. We three talked number four, the trepidatious Noah, into going down the slide together. "Is that even possible?" I thought. In Seattle you have to pay a dollar per slider, they must wear a wristband, they must pass a swim test or ensure that someone is at the bottom to catch them and under NO circumstances will any sliders get to go together as something fun like, say, a "train." And the slide is super wimpy. On the Vianden slide, mayhem and fun ruled. Nobody regulated anything. People did whatever they wanted. When someone landed on someone else at the bottom, they yelled it out. The two lifeguards at the helm? Sitting out of sight, ignoring most everything. "This would never fly in America. And I freaking love it!"

It's at the playground outside our apartment window. I let the kids go back and forth as they please while I stay inside and work on my to-do list. I have no fear of kidnappers. I have no fear about anything! "That would never fly in America ... or at least in my neighborhood in Seattle."

It was Adam's co-worker who said he showed up to drop off his kids to school on their first day here and kids were wrestling rambunctiously on the playground. He wondered why nobody was stopping them. "That would never fly in America!"

It was the suitcases left outside the bathroom at the Luxembourg airport. "Never leave baggage unattended," nagged my inner airport loudspeaker voice. Don't they know about terrorists here? "That would never fly in America!"

It was at another pool today. Men and women shared the same locker room. Same thing at Adam's work locker room. "That would never fly in America." Also, men and boys in Speedos. "That would never fly in America." 

It's the shopping carts at the malls filled with already purchased food (there are giant grocery stores inside the two malls here) and clothes left outside other stores in the mall. The owners needed to stop inside a store and didn't want to be bothered with their carts. Don't they know about thieves here? "That would never fly in America!"

It's the two times I've heard moms in public yelling at their kids and also looking away right as they swat them. On the behind? On the face? I'm not really sure. But it's out in the open and nobody is flinching. "That would never fly in America."

It's when I see people on bikes and motorcycles not wearing helmets. Laws? What laws. "That would never fly in America."

It's when I smell second-hand smoke, yep, just another smoker lighting up. Also, the dude with the huge stogie just walking around. "That would never fly in America ... or at least not out in the open so much."

Is this what it feels like to live in the 1960s in America? If so, I want to go back to there. But I don't have to. I can do it in 2015. Here.