Coming back home after living in Spain has brought plenty of little adjustments, but one that hit me right away? The police. They’re everywhere!
I can’t even go for a peaceful drive through my small Tennessee town without spotting at least three cop cars lurking. It’s not that I’m doing anything wrong, unless listening to my music too loud is suddenly a federal offense, but the constant presence makes it feel like they’re always on the hunt for something, anything.
In Spain, especially in the cities I spent most of my time in, the police weren’t invisible, but they also weren’t omnipresent. You might see them during big events or in busy tourist areas, but you didn’t get that “they’re watching me” feeling every time you merged onto the highway.
Even on long road trips, the focus was more on enjoying the ride than checking your rearview mirror every 30 seconds to make sure a pair of blue-and-red lights isn’t creeping up behind you. Back here? It’s like a game of “Where’s Waldo,” except Waldo has a badge, a radar gun, and the ability to ruin your afternoon with one ticket. The irony is, this is a small town; it’s not exactly the crime capital of the world, yet the police presence feels bigger than the population itself.
In Spain, it feels like the police aren’t really around unless they’re needed. You might see them having coffee outside a café, chatting with each other, totally unbothered. But if someone screamed or there was an actual emergency, they’d spring into action without hesitation. They’re present, but they’re not hovering.
Now, to put it in perspective, with American cops, it’s a whole different energy. Imagine you’re the one sitting at a café, minding your business, enjoying your latte. Out of nowhere, one or two officers stroll up, standing tall and serious, and hit you with, “Evening, ma’am. Your shoe’s untied.” Not a crime, not a crisis… just an excuse to be in your space. It’s like they’re always looking for a reason to insert themselves, even if it’s something as harmless as your footwear situation.
And it’s not that I have anything against seeing police; safety is important, but the contrast is wild. In Spain, their presence feels relaxed, almost invisible until it needs to be visible. In the U.S., it feels like their presence is the main event, and you’re just an accidental extra in the scene.
You also can’t forget how American cops love to post up in random spots, sometimes in plain sight, like a parking lot, just waiting to pull someone over. My personal favorite? When they go full hide-and-seek mode. I’m not kidding, on my street, they’ve literally gone off-roading and hidden in the woods around a certain curve like it’s a stakeout in a crime drama. And yet, ironically, I still feel safer in Spain. Again, nothing against cops, it’s just an observation.
Reverse culture shock lesson? In Spain, I rode the train through mountains, coastlines, and sleepy countryside without a second thought. Here, I’m dodging potholes and side-eyeing every white SUV just in case it’s not a soccer mom, but a state trooper in disguise.
Love always,
American Girl Meets World
