I moved from Brazil to the Midwest at 19. My parents were born in the US, but I still wasn’t prepared for the culture shock.

When my friend said he lived “just outside Detroit,” I assumed his town — Lake Orion — would resemble the neighborhoods of a dense city.

But when I arrived, I learned the township about 40 miles outside Detroit was filled with woodland and expansive, open backyards. This vastly differed from the high walls and gates that surrounded almost every home in Brazil where I grew up.

I expected my Michigan neighborhood to be like those in the movies and TV shows about New York City, complete with sky-high apartments, bustling subway stations, and bars and restaurants on every corner. Needless to say, adjusting to the quieter township was a challenge I wasn’t expecting.

In Curitiba, my parents, who had been granted Brazilian driver’s licenses when they moved, both drove. We usually had a working vehicle (always purchased used), but gas was expensive, and we have a big family.

So, like the many Brazilians who utilized Curitiba’s bus system in the early 2000s, we often relied on public transportation or walked to get where we needed to go.

But, in Michigan, driving seemed to be a requirement for everything. When I got a job at a nearby mall, I didn’t think walking the mile and a half from my new home would be an issue. However, my coworkers thought my idea was absurd — and they stared at me in astonishment when I asked about a public bus.

Learning to drive in the US was a pleasant experience, though. My friend’s dad taught me free of charge, and I even bought my 1997 Toyota Corolla during my first year in the US.

When I moved to the Midwest, I knew the winters would be colder than those I was used to. In fact, I saw snow for the first time while living in Michigan.

But, between heated houses and cars, my first taste of a real winter was surprisingly warm.

In Brazil, I lived in a home with little insulation and no indoor heating. Unlike my heated home in Michigan, the only sources of warmth were fireplaces, blankets, clothing, and occasional space heaters. 

I was also shocked to learn that many people in the US wear thick coats for the short walk from the car to the store when it’s cold out then immediately remove them after stepping inside. In Brazil, most people I knew wore the same clothes outdoors and inside.

Throughout my first two years in the US, I learned from supportive professors and mentors, made lifelong friends, and met the person who would eventually become my husband.

I still fondly remember Michiganders looking out for me, whether it was coworkers answering my questions or older women calling me “hun.” Though more reserved than the Brazilians I remember, people were actively kind, often going out of their way to be helpful.

As I settled into my life in Michigan, I eventually altered my perspective of the US as a temporary home.

Today, I live near the Washington, DC, metro line and walk alongside 20-story apartment buildings with other pedestrians — a scene that makes me feel at home. Still, I’m glad I first landed in the Midwest.