I've become increasingly curious about the notion of identity. There seem to be now more than ever, so many different ways to proclaim one's identity. Nationalistic, religious, gender-based, familial - we've all known people who, upon first meeting, present themselves as "first" something.

Am I first an American? When I travel abroad, the force of my "American-ness" seems to be in the forefront of my mind. Then, I can't seem to lose the curious awareness that appears to me to be peculiar to American thought.

I'm not talking about the "ugly American syndrome", either - at first meeting, or at least until I open my mouth and betray myself by my accent, I'm never initially identified as an American - that at least informs me that I don't betray myself by outward behavior.

It's more akin to mental baggage, as it were - I'm constantly reminded of the unique forces that have shaped my thoughts, my worldview, my perception of myself and of others. The personal freedoms I automatically take for granted, the overall optimism I inculcated at birth, the political realities naturally held dear simply by virtue of where I was raised - all are examples of thoughful discovery.

Often, the daily cultural differences - represented in one way by the notion of personal space boundaries - are a huge difference between the US and Third World countries and one, notwithstanding my many trips there, I can ever seem to deal with adequately. The inability to queue properly never fails to drive me bonkers.

I am extremely fortunate that I have many and continuing opportunities to travel in places, and in circles, that most Americans have not. Through marriage to an Algerian who spent his childhood and youth in Morocco, I've been able to travel several times to both countries and, due to family ties, experience genuine life there as opposed to merely tourist destinations.

Even though subsequent trips have enhanced my understanding of the complexity of those societies, and the initial culture shock of the first voyage has long worn off, I still find myself identifying more with my country when I'm there, and only feeling dissastifaction when I return home, sadly more than willing to express despair at a new batch of Fresh Hell.