Friday, June 22nd- Monday, July 8, 2012
Upon arrival back in the states, I was presented my new car (2010 Volvo C70 convertible in white), an iPhone 4, and many opportunities to shop. I am spoiled. Why? I understand that my parents have gone a long time without the physical ability to present something to me, but at the same time, I have been viewing my entire 11-months in Europe as a gift, a HUGE blessing.
I do not require all of these expensive, material things. However, I am still enjoying them…
For instance, it is because of my iPhone that I have been able to record all of my thoughts while driving, and now I have the time to transcribe them to you.
Just now, as I was driving on the freeway a truck was driving on the on ramp and gave me a little whistle. And I just started thinking back to Italy, when I got the same smirk. It was never a form of flattery.
However, the honking here, there isn’t too much of it. But it means something completely different: a cry out for worry, for help. That something may or has already gone wrong. I miss it just being a gesture, a welcome.
In my summer History of Modern Art class, during discussion on Viennese art, I hinted of my recent presence in Vienna, and no one seemed to really care. It was strange to me. I’ve been so used to other travelers telling me, encouraging me that I have accomplished so much. And yet, my pride is not in the fact that I accomplished those things, but in the fact that I was in those places. And I can’t seem to learn about those places on a screen, in a textbook, or from lecture. I crave the in-person experience. I have it in me to go back, a grand return. I miss it.
I forgot about the homeless people. As I was entering the freeway, there was a man holding a sign on the on-ramp corner. He may have been a veteran, lost his home in escrow, or wasted away his money on drugs and is now in recovery. Whatever it was, homelessness is different here. I am used to homeless people having a gift: sharing their musical abilities or showing their need for amputation, their ailment. Never necessarily asking for money, but encouraging you to give for what you see.
But here, it is their job. Homeless people carrying signs here make more money than businessmen in some cases. And that, I cannot support. I will give food, but the money doesn’t go to the same place as it does in Europe or in the Middle East. There it is to the talent or skill, they are really working for what you give. I don’t feel that way here. Here I fear supporting their drug or alcohol addiction. And deny myself the ability to act as Scripture says is right.
Even the border crossings are different. In Europe you are stopped only when entering into specific countries (i.e. Switzerland), but in California, as you drive north into Camp Pendleton, you may be stopped completely based off of a racial profile. The goal is to stop illegal immigration from Mexico, so they are trying to see if you may be smuggling any aliens. But if they see you are caucasian, driving a nice car without any extra space in the vehicle they just wave you on by. But without registration, or something like that, they stop and search. The funny parts of America; it wasn’t even that bad in crossing from Jordan to Israel.
I remember driving around Israel, in proximity to the Dead Sea. It is not necessarily a lonely dessert, but it is still: just sand dunes under a dark sky. Driving through Camp Pendleton at 4am, it felt just like that. The only place where you can’t see anything off the road. It made me think, I remember America as a place that is independent from the rest of the world. Although other country rely on our ability to give, our ability to aid in disaster, and to produce, and to adopt, it is different. For me, now, I see America as this place with a facade. Right now, Obama in the G8, has no influence, for no one cares for what he is able to provide. A leader can’t be a leader without any followers. It is the followers who define a leader. Right now it doesn’t seem like America has a leader. However, with the rest of the world breaking, economically, it isn’t the worst timing for such a political disaster. Italy, Spain, and Greece are even worse off. However, I do want to consider the fact that I feel isolated in America. We are isolated in America. Not only does the United States almost cover the entire North America continent, but we share it with another country that is also very much independent. Therefore, we are not tiny countries like the states, sharing borders with Austria, Switzerland, Germany, Czech Republic, and the rest of Europe. Instead, we share borders with two countries. And even then so, we reject Mexico, as we are controlling the border.
And I am left wondering: where is the relationship? where is the trade? where is the respect and the knowledge of what goes on around us and how that influences our daily living? I can’t even see that China has an economic influence in America. Yes, nearly everything we buy here is labeled, “made in China,” “made in Japan,” “made in India,” “made in Thailand,” or “made in Philippines,” but it stands the same. You can’t identify the fact that America chooses these partnerships. We don’t give credit. We don’t allow for a true partnership,but a power-striving, influential gesture from the kindness of our dear ole’ hearts. That America in my eyes.
I forgot that while you are driving in the morning, or just walking around waking up. Sunrise doesn’t really exist here. During June gloom it is gloomy all throughout the day in “Sunny California”. But in the morning, there is a marine layer. The ocean literally causes it to feel like you are driving through the rain in the morning: a think haze. But it remains only along the coast. When you are driving inland, in San Bernardino or L.A., it is really foggy and then all the sudden the light appears. Within an instance, the sun rises above the ridges to your right and there is no more light to bare, it is all there.
The palm trees, they’re everywhere. We even began disguising our antennas in plastic palm trees. Right now I’m looking at one: a bunch of speaker-box looking things hidden in a fake palm tree. Yup, we really care about image here. We even use palm trees to make us look prettier, or at least, our location prettier.
Driving along i-5 to orange county, it smelled like rotten cheese. Like the pre-sliced, packaged Gouda I purchased at a grocery store in Austria. Rotten, poor-quality Gouda. It wasn’t until that moment that I remembered the distinct smell of dog food as you are driving on i-25 in Denver.
Even parking lots are strange to me. Not only is their land marked for the storage of cars EVERYWHERE in America, but even our transportation routes look like parking structures. Whereas in Europe, most cities are viewed on foot or by public transportation, here every single person is driving their own vehicle. We even made a Carpool lane to applaud those who drive in twos.
The L.A. freeways remind me of Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities, where he described Venice through indirect imagery, I see freeway on-ramps tangled as a spider’s web, not a mess of freeway bridges. Everyone is stopped, not moving an inch. It is a multiple layered parking lot. There I was taking trains, not worrying about time constraints in traffic or anything like it, and now, I sit in the worst of it: L.A. traffic hour–from 8am thru 1pm all the way to late evening. It never seems to clear.
I am not used kids missing the toilet, to toilet seat covers, to people not honking out of impatience, to kids not having responsibility, I’m not used to hearing English everywhere. It was so intriguing to hear an Australian accent come from an oriental family at Legoland. Meeting people from Montreal and knowing that their French isn’t from France, but from French Canada. The ability I have to identity people’s heritage, and the joy accents, new languages, and world travelers: families traveling together, these are the joys that make me appreciate my work at Legoland, but these are the things that continue to make me feel as if I do belong somewhere else, I know something from somewhere else.
I forgot about one-liners. It has been a while since someone has tried to get my attention through a stupid little line. A pick-up line, if you will. I got used to the flattery, the truth, the depth of a conversation, or a particular eye look. But it is definitely different.
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