Back to the Land of Hugs and Handshakes

When I was staying in the UK as a student in 1992-93, I was greeted in various ways by the locals. Sometimes a single kiss on the cheek, sometimes a handshake or light hug, other times a controlled nod. They seemed to do the same among each other. 

So it felt as though something was a little strange when I resettled in 2004 and people, whether new in my life or old friends, were all greeting me with the double kiss, comme les Francais. 
Qu'est ce qui passe??
I didn't remember people greeting each other in that manner when I was living there in the previous decade, but I went along with it. Since I was in Wales at the time I thought perhaps that was a regional custom. It followed as I moved from Cardiff to Bristol to London.
Apparently the European left-right-smooch custom had swept the nation and there was no going back. 

I suppose I went along with it, but it felt contrived and, in this age of germ-phobias, swine flu and noro-virus, it was just plain hazardous. 

The only place I didn't feel under threat of the left-right-smooch was in Scotland where I was traveling regularly for work in 2010. Their smile-and-nod greeting felt more relaxed and genuine.  

I laughed out loud at a party in London last year when a Frenchman who'd been living in the UK for several years expressed his ennui with the custom. When the British lunged at him with the left-right-smooch he accommodated, but not without saying, "Oh, you want to kiss both sides, now? I never know what they are doing here!"

If a hand-shake feels too formal, there is something that feels very false - even remotely stand-off-ish, by the British-style left-right-smooch. It reminds me of the similar move spoofed in films of wealthy housewives in Beverly Hills. Going through the motions while sizing each other up. "Oh, hello darling - smooch smooch - we must get together soon."

Very few people in my home state of California attempt the left-right-smooch, and most of those who do were raised in Europe and moved here as adults. My own father, aunts and uncles from France and Italy do not partake in the double-kiss. They seem to have let that go during their acculturation to the US, yet they remain demonstrative and cuddly. 

As I start a new job here and meet new neighbors, the interactions between people feel more natural and less pretentious. I know there are some English who disagree and believe most Americans are arrogant hand-shakers. They're certainly entitled to their opinions, though I won't pay any attention until they've actually lived here in the US for a decade -- try that, first - then we'll be on a level playing field to compare notes on culture. 

Cheerio and au-revior, awkward left-right-smooch. 

The Return

It's true, I returned to the UK four months and five days after I left. 

I was greeted with "Welcome home!", and "At last, you've returned to us."

People kept asking, "How does it feel to be back ?" 

I feel as though I have been on a summer study holiday in California and have just come back to the reality of cold air, angry commuters, high prices and traffic congestion. It feels like only a few weeks have passed - those months I spent sequestered studying and passing the clinical licensing exams in California are all compressed into a smaller memory block. 

As I sat on the old familiar fuzzy seats on the Piccadilly line from Heathrow, I felt grateful for the comfortable flight, the empty train car, and my old functioning Oyster card.

It was only a short visit (3 days in Bristol; 7 in London). I wasn't able to see all of my friends, or even half of them. But that is what I have encountered for the past decade of traveling back and forth to the US. I am well rehearsed in the art of short-stay-meeting-up coordination and inevitable sacrifices. 

Nothing much seems to have changed in the UK. The air, chill, and hard water were always hard on my skin and sinuses, and that all came flooding back within a few hours of landing.  

While I miss the ability to see friends here more regularly and eating at my favorite restaurants, I can't say that I really miss the UK yet. If anything, I was reminded of the reasons I left. 

For now, I am very confident I made the right move. I felt reminded of this when seeing the overflowing display of bags of crisps in every shop, adjacent to the rows and rows of chocolate bars. The free 'news' papers with melo-dramatic headlines. The hideous UPVC windows everywhere. The passive-aggressive anger on public transport. The "should" and "should not" attitude. Jon Snow still on Channel 4. The bureaucratic red tape of trying to sort my pension transfer. The mediocre dental care. Royals spending money, reproducing, and adding nothing. Separate hot and cold water taps....

The things I take pleasure in, such as my favorite parks in decent weather, my favorite galleries, seeing friends, dining out, and knowing that Paris is only 2 hours away on the Eurostar are the brilliance of living in London for me. 

What was most wonderful about my return visit was seeing friends and feeling welcomed home - like I belonged there.

I am grateful for and proud of my citizenship. I did, after all, spend a decade of my life there (plus my student terms abroad in the early 90s).  

Towards the end of my visit, I realized something that stopped me in my tracks: the UK is still 'home' to me now, more than California, where everything is still temporary (and I don't even know if I will settle there).  I realized that I will never feel like a tourist in a place where I lived and worked for so long.

So I enjoyed the visit as a citizen and recent resident whilst still looking forward to the future, wherever that might be. 

Here's what happened while I was away: I GOT OLD

I guess a decade will do that to a person, especially when you come back to a place when you are over 40.

I have noticed that on the television news programming, both network and cable channels, the news readers and pundits are all suspiciously youthful. I don't remember it always being like that. Sure, Generations Y and Z might have a few interesting contributions, but I like my news readers varying in ages and prefer pundits more on the sedate, mature side. (Actually, pundits are often annoying at any age; what am I saying?) I'd better stick with National Public Radio.

Here's what else happened:

A group resembling a quasi-rabid pack of small, irate chihuahuas has gripped a corner of American politics and are attempting to contaminate the country. So far they seem to be successful in giving most people a caffeine-related headache. Thank goodness I have always stuck with herbal tea.

And finally, picking up one of the free local newspapers, the last four pages are covered in adverts for weed. Now that's definitely new.

Catching up with California

"While California is not perfect, it is in our nature to try new things."
~Bill Maher

While I am admittedly catching up on things here from the past decade, Bill Maher sheds light on why whenever I was asked where I was originally from whilst living abroad, I would always specify California (and never generically the US). I suppose a lot of us from the Golden State consider ourselves a sub-culture of the rest of America, and those in certain regions may consider ourselves from yet another sub-culture within the state.
So for as many stereotypes as there are out there about Americans, and Californians, this 'New Rule' segment highlights some of the better things about my home state.  If you scroll down past the text you can view the video.

From another ex-pat recently moved back to the US:

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/08/18/opinion/sunday/ta-ta-london-hello-awesome.html?smid=pl-share

I didn't experience 100% of what she describes in her commentary, though most of it was very familiar to me. I admired her for putting it in print. 
Going through the re-settlement process is not easy and it is helpful to find these little gems of validation from others. 


I will refer to it when I elaborate on my own experiences in a future post. Stay tuned. 

~Em

The California Sun!

OK, most of my friends back in the UK would say they are so jealous that I was going to be in California for the summer. It is true, California weather is amazing. But they don't know.... it lasts for four months!!!! In all honesty, after so many days of +93F/34C to me it is just really hot.  

Yes it is beautiful, sunny and blue skies everyday, which really is quite nice, I won't lie. I haven't seen so many cloudless blue skies in years. Seriously... years... this is not an exaggeration. Yet, maybe this is too much of a good thing?  

It is so hot that I can't be outdoors in certain times of the day, I think I am melting! And then at night it is lovely and beautiful outside, but inside my room is a sauna. 

Of course I do know that I just need to get accustomed to it. Get used to moving outside in the heat. For goodness sake I could handle it when I was younger. I tell myself I can do it again, it's in my blood!

But I must be honest...I miss London weather. The gloomy cloudy, rainy summer days. Those days when we'd all get excited because the forecast said we were going to have a nice weekend. Then seeing everyone out there in the park getting lobster red as they had their first exposure to real sun that year. Mind you the high would normally be about 77F/25C and if we were lucky a few days may even be about 86F/30C.

Oh how I miss wearing layers and never knowing what to expect weather wise. And always having a cardigan and scarf in my bag for when it got cold at night. 

Ahh well... I suppose this year I may actually get a bit of a tan :) 

What has this really taught me these last two months? ... I need a proper California summer wardrobe! I do not have nearly enough summer clothes :) 

~T

The Floating Dock - How do I anchor myself?

It "feels like I've been dropped on a floating dock in the middle of a familiar lake.  I see the shore and know it, but don't really feel like swimming towards it." 

I love what Em has said here as it really captures what returning home is like - the conflicting emotions of familiarity, loneliness and isolation.

Like Em I was 17 when I left and I too only returned for weeks at a time. I won't lie, there was a year and a half that I did have to return home in between my time in Zimbabwe and Washington, DC. However I refer to this as my rebuilding year as I prepared for the next step - grad school. I even managed to get a grant for Chinese language study, so I felt OK because I was still pursuing my goal. I knew where I was going (grad school) and why (to eventually become an anthropologist - this did not happen).

That's why I like the Floating Dock analogy. It's been about 2 months since I've returned back to California and I am struggling with my attachment to this place. Which is interesting actually as my PhD dissertation was going to look exactly at these issues within resettled populations in China (crooked smile). I've realised it is not only about an attachment to place but also the experiences that you associate with those places. I am having to reconcile the two very different versions of myself - before and after London.


There is a part of me that finds solace in my being a floating dock. It is safe. Until I swim to shore and anchor myself I am not really here, haven't really returned. I can imagine that I am still abroad.

Of course, I can't remain floating out there in the middle of the lake. I have to find a way of becoming attached again. Until I do I won't figure out what's next. For me, that is the secret of returning home. Having to navigate the integration of my experiences and this new identity I have created abroad with my past life here.

(Oh and considering the length of this post, I've taken another cue from Em and had a bit of fun with the colours)

 
~ T