When returning to California in November, I absolutely expected the above remark and decided to fully play into the role granted to me by Californians. So, I bought new clothes that I could label as a 'European look', asked my hairdresser for a 'European haircut' - and as a result, felt very European.

As a young au pair in New York in the 1970's, I learned pretty quickly that it was useless to mention Finland as my country of origin to most average Americans. In a typical instance, I had to explain that this unknown place was in Northern Europe. Oh, European – that they knew. Admitting to being Scandinavian was not advisable in some circles in the 70's. Invitations to all kinds of disreputable places abounded from the mouths of my au pair neighborhood's respectable fathers in record time.

So I became a European. Much later, when I moved to California, people I associated with usually had a better familiarity with the world map, but European is still an easy answer. I also quickly learned of the definite benefits of  'Europeanness'. A sc. European accent in English, probably just meaning good grammar and vocabulary, in addition to decent pronunciation, almost always brings up the response, you Europeans are so well educated - we just really don't compare at all. According to my California friends, our house looks European, our kids' good manners are a tribute to their European upbringing, and the fact that we cook most meals at home and hang our laundry on line is European. Yes, some of these claims are true to some extent. The most irritating incident took place after we had chosen a new practice with two pediatricians for our second baby. We had only met one of the doctors, but when the baby had an earache, the second one got on the phone. He listened to me attentively and requested that I repeat the information – making me wonder about my English skills. When I finished the second time, he sighed, Oh, I just love your European accent! Could you say something more? I looked at my sick baby and just shook my head in disbelief. Yes – many American men find European women –and their accents - attractive, but this was a bit much. The most ridiculous incident, on the other hand, took place on a family camp, on an island, in Southern California. On the final night, when a big dinner would be served, mostly local women  (to me stereotypically Southern-Californian) were getting ready for the occasion in an outdoor washroom by shaving their legs and painting their toenails. When I walked in, a chorus sighed, you're so lucky! I was just trying to figure out what on earth gave me the lucky status when one exclaimed, you're so lucky: you don't have to shave your legs since you're European. Oh, yes, yes, you're right  . . . was all I could think of replying. Another unexpected benefit of being European!

On my recent trip back to California, my family had a dinner conversation on the subject as we sat down to eat around 9 PM. Johannes laughingly reminded me that we have always had dinner much later than most other families. He further elaborated that when he was little, and friends called at dinnertime, they would usually remark, Now? But it's 8 o'clock! Supposedly my explanation had been that we're Europeans - that's why the later dinners. So, that's what Johannes repeated to his friends. He said he only realized the irony when living in Finland where dinner was usually eaten at 5 PM. What Europeans?

After 30 years, the 'Europeanness' has become part of who I am. Alternatively, I might call myself Scandinavian since I teach at a Scandinavian Department. Having now lived in Finland for three months, I have yet to hear a real Finn call him/herself European. This interests me greatly since Finland has been a part of the European Union since 1995 and used euro as monetary unit since 2002. Why don't Finns comfortably identify themselves as Europeans? Of course, I have also become an ex-European and a FINN now. But I will no doubt return to my European role when back in California.

I can spot the exact moment of my identity shift from a European to that of a Finn in September 2007, on my trip from California to Finland. Due to the many flights this year, I had decided to experiment on airline cuisines. On that particular trip, I had gone Muslim. On the first leg from San Francisco to London, I was happily enjoying my tasty Muslim dinner while downing two little bottles of nice Spanish Rioja. I hadn't even thought about the meal selection applying to all legs of my trip, so when the kind Finnish stewardess on a Finnair flight from Heathrow to Helsinki marched to me, announcing quite loudly, Tuomainen – your Muslim lunch, the French Merlot I was sipping suddenly went down the wrong pipe, and while coughing, I automatically glanced around nervously to see what the fellow Finns around me might be thinking of this Finnish, wine drinking Muslim, before hiding behind Helsingin Sanomat – the largest Finnish newspaper, luckily in every meaning of the word.

. . . and here's the European look . . . from an American perspective. Go Drew!