4.

The Best of Each World

To be a stranger in a strange land has its advantages. Having moved to the US at the age
of 21, I had the opportunity to take in experiences with an open mind and a full heart.

Though I have lived on both coasts of the USA, I believe it has been California, out West,
and Georgia, down South, what really made an impression on me so much so that, not
being able to make up my mind, I must say life in both places has never ceased to amaze
me. If I were to choose, I will let you in on a secret: I would take the best of both worlds,
as living abroad has taught me that in the end it is life’s little moments what keeps you
going forward, straight ahead and on course.

PART I: The West

At the beginning, California was the place to live it all up. Beautifully set up, San Diego,
in Southern California, is one of the coolest cities to live in. Planned out at first to be a
navy town, San Diego has blossomed into a cosmopolitan place where lots of young,
upwardly-mobile couples are moving in. Their intentions are to start out their lives from
the ground up; and by that I mean these young people take on responsibilities one at a
time so they will not miss out on anything they have written down on their wish list. At
the time I relocated to San Diego I, being young and single, had written down a fairly
long wish list which included things such as meeting as many interesting people as
possible, going out with people from some other cultures and, indeed, eating out at the
city’s finest restaurants. I carried out every single wish I had in mind and even a few I
had never thought of seeing come true. But, as too much of a good thing does not last
forever, after 8 wonderful years of ‘taking it easy’ in Southern California, I moved away,
this time to Northern California where my life turned around ever so unexpectedly.

San Francisco took me in with open arms, yet what this city had to offer was quite
different from San Diego’s delectable, fun, outdoorsy, and simply wholesome lifestyle.
San Francisco was, without doubt, cast out of a different mold, quite unique and
sophisticated. I am not saying that this is either better or worse; what I am getting at is
that the city, as it is known among its inhabitants, did not have to do its best to blow the
visitor away with its charm and beauty. For, nestled between the mountains and the
Pacific Ocean, San Fran (another of its adorable nicknames) had it all: from natural
scenery where to go hiking, mountain climbing, surfing, or air balloon riding to intricate
and fascinating places in downtown; places that would reach out to passersby by putting
on their best shows and performances. Indeed, when nostalgia sets in, Finocchio’s or The
San Francisco Opera House come to mind: no other ‘Nutcracker Suit’ had sounded so
beautiful to my ears than the one I showed up to just by chance (I happened to stumble
upon an old crumpled up ad, tossed out on the street, that truly won me over).

Though life in Northern California was filled with wonder and high expectations, taking
on a decent paying job did not come about that easily. In addition, California’s pace was
fast, and Californians, more often than not, went about their own business. Being the cost
of living so high, those of us who were barely making it, found ourselves wondering why
we ended up in Northern California in the first place. Undeniably, life in San Fran was
for the glamorous, carefree and the very wealthy indeed; after a while, it became clear
that people like me, working their hardest to make ends meet, had no business living
there. It was right there and then, as in an epiphany moment, when it dawned on me I
would be better off leaving California and moving East. With not a minute to lose, I set
off for the East Coast where life felt similar to the Old continent of Europe. After
California, I tried out different places to live: Arizona, Maryland and Washington D.C.
were next on the list until I finally landed in Georgia, one of the most representative states
of what is known as the Old South. The idea of moving down to Georgia, already married
and with two kids of my own, looked terribly attractive and very exciting. Not only were
my husband and I head over heels with it but our children were ecstatic to know they
would make lots of friends and lead a life ‘Little House of the Prairie’ style. We waited
for the ‘D’ day with anticipation.
PART II: The South

I still remember as it were yesterday my first impression of this state. Luscious green
covered the peanut fields on each side of Interstate 75 as we rode down to a small town
USA three hours south of Atlanta. Being awarded with the title of “The Reading Capital
of the World,” such place sits conveniently located right on the freeway, the main artery
that connects all small population centers to the real world.

Life stands still in the Old South. Besides its climate, this land down south offers
numerous perks to the outsider. Housing is affordable, schools (especially the private
enterprises) tend to focus on the human side of learning, and the people do offer you
“southern hospitality.” Being a foreigner (I would later find out) granted me the
opportunity to move about town with the eyes of an unintended observer who quickly
caught on with the local jargon and enjoyed new expressions such as “as cute as a bug in
a rug,” “tickled pink,” and “down yonder.” My learning process went on smoothly and
uneventfully. A new exciting world opened up before my eyes: perfectly manicured
neighborhoods shied away from the interstate and found refuge in secluded residential
areas where a sort of “Tom Sawyer” lifestyle could safely come true. Downtown was
reserved for businesses and government buildings, yet as you stepped out of that handful
of streets, a different atmosphere took hold of the immediate surroundings where more
modest housing was seen everywhere. All in all, life was, indeed, orderly and peaceful.

After the excitement of moving wore off, I found myself picking up on things never
noticed before. Surely life was easy, but as the children grew up, more quickly than I
expected, I began to think back to the times when schools, work, and mountain hikes gave
you enough freedom to roam around without being looked on. And California popped up
in my mind, stronger than ever before. It was no longer fun for the kids to walk down to
the lake fishing rod in hand, all charged up with the idea of the best catch in the
neighborhood. The kids were no longer interested in fishing, nor were they up to an
evening at the movie theater. They wanted to go out on dates, spend the night over at
someone’s home, and drive the truck over to the county line. As it was, life in a small
town turned around and became life in a fish bowl, dull and monotonous. As years pass
you by at the speed of light, so did life in the South. My children grew up to become fine
young adults who were elated to trade small town living for university living. They turned
out to be wonderful human beings, ready to stand up to anybody who would be in their
way and ready to stand up for their own convictions and ideas, out of which came the
decision to move to Europe…. It was time to pack up and leave once again…

We made our move across the ocean in 2005. Need I say that after being absent for 27
years, life in the South (this time of Spain) also required some getting-used-to. All of us
had to learn that in order to take in one must give in as well. The transition went well
though and other than a few minor adjustments, life now feels gentle and easy going. The
children have each their own jobs and have no complaints about living in another place;
on my end, I took up piano and French…

It has been ten years since I left South Georgia and yet I find myself, at times, thinking
back to those lazy summer afternoons when I would hear my children shriek with joy as
they jumped into the lake or dove in the pool. At times I cannot help but remember the
days when living (in California, of course!) was all about letting your hair down and
relaxing over a nice meal by the bay. It is then when I think myself so fortunate for having
lived some years of my life abroad, and with my eyes half closed, I go back in time with
real delight to reminisce what it was that I loved so much about each place I lived in. And
any time I do this, new and better memories pop in my mind; for, most importantly,
having lived abroad means always to hold on to the best of each world.