My Image of America Before Leaving

Growing up in howling fjords and rivers of ice had hardened my features. Like most nords, my eyes are bright blue, my flesh is pale with a trace of freckles and my hair is a disaster of blonde and light brown. I have a split tooth, don't talk much and, frankly, look mean. I'm not soft or elegant, and look nothing like the young women that I imagine live in America. They have poise, beauty and many other redeeming qualities that I lack. I steel my nerve and tell myself that I'm strong and that it doesn't matter...but sometimes I catch myself wondering what it would be like to look like them.
It can't be overcrowded, like it is here. I hear they even give land away for free. I'm sure it's easy to get a job too, and the people must be friendly. Unlike here, they are equal, I am sure. Why else would tales of America travel so far? I will savor the moment I can look a rich man in the eye and not be spit upon.