A few weeks ago I was ambling through the De Young Museum when a security guard smiled and made a comment about the exhibit I was viewing (the charred remains of a church hanging in mobile-fashion). We chatted a few moments, and when I said I'd recently "moved back from the UK", he responded that his colleague in the corner was also from that part of the world. I walked on and eventually the other guard appeared to introduce himself. Turned out he was from Ukraine. We both laughed. Then I asked, ex-pat to ex-pat, which he preferred. He said Ukraine. He could afford it there, and the weather was better than in San Francisco. Home is home, even Ukraine.
What strikes me about my neighborhood in Marin county is how friendly the neighbors are. Only seven months as a resident and already I've met most people on the street and around the corner, all who've made an effort to welcome me and introduce themselves. Having a dog I walk four times a day helps, but even when I leave the house solo, people extend their greetings.
Earlier this month someone hosted a community social event at their home, offering a chance for neighbors to meet each other.
All of what I just described was pretty much unheard of in every neighborhood I ever lived in in Britain.
That includes:
Notting Hill Gate, London
Stockport
Cambridge
Pontcanna, Cardiff, Wales (two homes in different sections)
Clifton, Bristol
Charlton/Greenwich, London.
I can count on one hand the number of neighbors I met during that time. The two I've stayed in touch with were also born outside of Britain and part of the ex-pat squad.
Once in a while an immediate neighbor (sharing the terrace wall) would make an effort for reasons of safety/neighborhood watch, but suspicion flowed just beneath the surface.
I got used to it after about three years. I learned whilst living in Wales that the only way to make friends on the street is if you are a mother with a kid who meets another mother. I'm not part of that squad.
"Keep themselves to themselves" is a common expression in the UK. When a crime story hits the news, neighbors are often interviewed. "Did you know the Taylor family, ma'am?"
"Well, it's an awful shock - we didn't really know them - - kept themselves to themselves, mostly".
Seeing the same faces day in, day out - at the bus stop or riding the tube, no one dared extend a "hello, again". People buried themselves in their Metro papers or faffed around with their iPhones like security blankets. I imagined those internal thoughts, "Musn't make eye contact… too complicated! Ah, relief, here comes the 108".
Of course, here in Northern California we pedestrians may be friendly towards one another, but give us four wheels and an engine and we become foes competing for asphalt space.
I am by no means popular in my home state. I know more people, but my friends got used to me as their friend abroad, and I became relegated to annual visits. Despite my residence in the same region as many of my old friends, not much has changed. Folks have their own lives and patterns with their local friends they're used to seeing. I was a novelty for a few weeks. It's even weird for me that I'm back. I can't blame them, but I am glad I got a dog.
