I’m just beginning my five-month study abroad in Valladolid, Spain, and I’m sure my reasons are much like anybody else who stays in another country for an extended period of time — to learn about the culture, the people and the language. With my limited grasp of the Spanish language, I expected the biggest barrier to be understanding the culture here. To my surprise, I’ve run into a much bigger dilemma: I have a constant compulsion to compare Spain to the United States.The feeling is inescapable. I’ll be walking to class, surrounded by an incredibly beautiful city scape filled with historic churches and quaint city plazas.Suddenly I’ll notice a woman’s shoes. “Oh my God, those are, like, so 10 years ago.” The thought pops into my head before I can even try to stop it. It doesn’t matter that I know Europeans dress different than Americans; I still wonder what compels some Spaniards to walk in public wearing purple leather coats with what looks like dead raccoons draped on the collar. Fur is apparently stylish here.My Spanish home life is also constantly held up to an American standard. I live in the apartment of Inma, a Spanish woman who has hosted students in her home for 22 years. I also live with two other American students, Chrissy and Tiffany. Immediately the comparisons began in my head as we hauled our bulky luggage up four flights of stairs: “This would not happen in the United States. Buildings have to be handicap accessible.”Then, as I hopped in the shower after unpacking: “Cold water? Yeah, in America, we have hot water for our showers.”And after having to pay to use the Internet in a store that had half-naked comic book characters pasted on the walls: “Hmm, in the United States, land of the free, home of the brave, we have a great thing called free Internet access.”The longer I’m here, the more these thoughts subside. But the problem with being the rookie in a country is that I don’t know what is normal behavior. What Inma does may be a quirk, not a reflection of Spain’s cultures and customs. Without talking to and observing many people, I can’t tell what makes a Spaniard, and how they as a whole comprise Spain. And here’s where language is especially irritating – I comprehend 25 percent of what is said to me (on a good day), so it’s extremely difficult to ask Spanish people what the traditions and beliefs of the country are. This forces me to rely on less reliable methods.My favorite unreliable method is when we American students gather and compare horror stories. For a while, Tiffany and I were winning with the cold showers (other people actually have hot showers), but another student, Fateem, is ahead right now. Her family keeps a pig leg, complete with hoof, hanging in their kitchen. Her family cuts pieces of meat off the leg whenever they feel like it for a snack. The comparisons could go on all day, but whoever finds the weirdest difference impresses us all and makes us long for the normalcy of the United States.Another thing I tend to do with my very American viewpoint is to make extremely broad generalizations. So far I haven’t met too many Spaniards other than my Inma, professors and store clerks. This means that whatever they do, I automatically assume all Spaniards must do. For example, Inma is a wonderful cook. Her food is delicious, but I’ve got a feeling she’s giving us the most Americanized food she knows how to make to keep us from calling home crying about our empty stomachs. During our daily comparisons, the other Americans said they’re eating the same food, but I figured they must be coddling us when I went to the grocery store and saw squid, octopus and sardines on ice in the meat section. Although it’s fun to pretend all Spaniards must act the same way, I’m hesitant to keep making assumptions just from what I see of the American culture in Spain. Basically, whatever’s popular in the United States will eventually make it to the Spain, and our professors said the pop culture in the United States is what’s popular here. This means that Spain is inundated with the music of Britney Spears, dubbed-over episodes of “90210” and “The Simpsons,” and movies like Little Nicky and the Grinch. It almost makes me afraid to be American, and it makes me understand when people don’t like me based on my nationality.I’ve never considered myself a patriotic person. Sure, I vote in elections and stand during the national anthem, but I’ve never really thought too much about how I feel to be American. Yet I too have been brainwashed with a steady dose of red, white and blue. The more I’m immersed in the language and the culture, the easier it is to see Spain as it actually is instead of through an American lens. So as uncomfortable as it is, I’ll go without my daily dose of Internet and take cold showers until I’m as proud to be in Spain as I am to be in America.

Amie Van Overmeer is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Rock Rapids.