I was actually in Europe for three weeks last October. A relative died and left me some money indicated for travel, so I went to Norway. I went in a modest way and budgeted carefully, because I am poor in the US. Not fully impoverished, because I have stable housing and a car, but poor, because I have been physically disabled since birth and my health is now so bad that I cannot work full-time.
The differences still stagger me.
The people selling knickknacks on the sidewalk all looked healthier than I am. They had better teeth than many of my fellow poor friends, all of whom work.
The trains, trams, and busses were all regular, inexpensive, and easy to access. The only time I had to have a car was while spending a week on the tiny island my family emigrated from. There was a bus, but the walk was farther than my disabled body could tolerate.
Even with my physical disabilities, I was able to.walk more than I ever have in my life. I could actually get around and still find areas to rest and recuperate.
I expected the prices to be higher, but they were only about 5–10% more than in the US. If I had not budgeted in special activities, I would have spent less overall, because I didn’t have health insurance payments or sin taxes.
I declined to get my sales taxes refunded, because I could see with my own eyes what my meager contribution was funding. I saw public works projects actually progressing! I also saw the clean and efficient public transportation, the cleanliness of the public commons, and the well-maintained roads. I didn’t feel like the taxes were a scam, because I knew what they were paying for.
I actually needed to go to the hospital after having a dystonic attack in Oslo airport. I cried and protested that I didn’t want to go, because I knew from American hospitals that there is no medical treatment for paroxysmal dyskinesia except low-dose anti-seizurals and time. I already owed my local ER $3500 (with monthly insurance) because I had had an ovarian cyst burst and could not stop screaming. The hospital is also uncomfortable at best – a writhing body on a gurney under incredibly bright lights, with the knowledge that you are going to be paying for months, is not conducive to rest. Imagine my shock when the room had comfortable lighting, the bed was comfortable, and the doctors and nurses looked at me like a patient instead of a nuisance. Imagine my shock when the full price bill worked out to $40.36.
I did not feel like complete strangers hated me and wanted me dead.
No one yelled a slur, insult, or come-on at me.
When I found myself talking to strangers, they were all genuinely curious and polite people. None of them tried to tell me what my life as a poor, disabled American was REALLY like because they had heard a news report saying my life was different.
The arrogant surety that other people are not the experts over their own lives was just not there. I hadn’t realized how intrinsic this is to the worst part of the American character until I didn’t have to deal with it.
I felt calm and peaceful and relaxed. I wished daily that I lived THERE and not HERE. Hell, I would honestly like nothing better than to grab my husband and our cats and emigrate right back to where Grandfather left.
I heard a 72 year old American female the other day telling of how she had nowhere to live but luckily a long-time friend offered to let her stay with her. She said she realised if her friend were to die or move she would be “homeless on the street”. She also said she was trying to get a job as she had “no money”. All she could find was work as a waitress which she knew would be tiring (bearing in mind she is 72).
I was astonished that she lived in a country that apparently did not provide her with a pension or enough social security to live on. In the UK she’d be housed for free (making use of housing benefit) and receive either a state pension (if she had qualifying years) or universal credit to cover her living expenses. I felt sorry that she lived in such a backward country that left a 72 year old female penniless and homeless.
Honest question, have you ever lived outside of the US?
I was born and raised in the Netherlands, spent 24 years (most of my adult life) in the US, and moved back to the Netherlands 10 years ago.
While I certainly miss the California beauty and weather, my quality of life here is SO much better. We have a much better live/work balance, don’t have to worry about getting fired on a whim (like in an at-will state), and getting sick won’t make me go bankrupt.
Yes, my taxes are slightly higher, but I still manage to save a lot more money every month than I did in the US. I don’t have any credit card debt, either.
Oh, and I don’t have to worry about gun violence, at all. I don’t have to worry whether or not my kids will come home from school every day.
I truly believe only people who have never lived outside of the US would think their lifestyle is better.
