Self-Reliance

If I only had one word to characterize Americans “self-reliance” would be it.   It describes the heart and soul of America – as well as many of its (current political) excesses.

okay, a climber on a mountain top is plenty cliche but still expresses the idea quite well. Pic: skyscanner.net

Self-reliance is defined as “reliance on one’s own capabilities, judgment, or resources” and that is what I observe here every day and what attracted me to this country from the very start.  Back then it was more of a gut feeling, I left business school and just knew that the US would be the country which offered the better opportunities, that this would be the country where I could be successful and people would applaud me for it, not begrudge me my success.

As annoying the whole “everything will be alright” mantra is when heard too many times -especially in situations where things appear so hopeless that you can’t believe anything will ever be alright again – it is by far a better attitude then complaining, whining or surrendering.  As cliche the “glass half full” saying might be it is nevertheless true.  In America the glass is always half full, the sun will always rise again and – eventually, you just believe me – everything will be alright.

Overall this is an endearing quality that might come across as a tad naive to jaded Europeans when in fact it is just the expression of a very strong and fundamental belief that, indeed, everything will be alright.  It is not just lip service but in its core the conviction that everybody can get up and start over.

That is the good part of self-reliance.  The part that made it possible for this country to be settled by immigrants who crossed snow peaked mountains in rickety wagons and trekked across endless deserts with not much more than their determination to make it (leaving the discussion about how native American were mistreated aside for the moment).

Then there is a very dark side to self-reliance.  The one we are seeing now so openly and unabashedly displayed by the Republican party.  The point where self-reliance crosses the line to social Darwinism (interestingly enough often the loudest proponents of Social Darwinism by whatever name are the same people that call Evolution “The Monkey Theory” and insist their kids are taught creationism in school).

As much as I applaud self-reliance and the will to get up and try again one cannot cast aside everybody who for some reason or another is unable to do so as “unworthy”.  There is historical precedent for it and as I German – although even my parents where too young to have any part in that period of our history – I know a thing or two about it.

A society is only worth that label if it is willing to take care of and support its weakest.  Even after 200+ years history of living, breathing and preaching self reliance not everybody has the health, education, or strength to get up and try harder.   Not everybody can be an entrepreneur, investment banker (God forbid) or run Bain Capital.  And it is okay, we don’t need that many people who run Bain Capital but we need many people to do the ordinary stuff in life and we need to provide them with enough security that if they stumble and fall – which is entirely human – there is a cane to help them get up.

Self reliance is a valuable and admirable quality – taken to the extreme it is a vile and inhuman philosophy which, I had hoped, would never rear its ugly head again.

Seasons

One of the things my German friends and acquaintances tell me they would miss if they lived in California are seasons.  Now mind you, Silicon Valley ain’t LA: we do have season.  We have colorful fall leaves in October and November, we have rain in late fall and winter, we have tulips and daffodils in spring – and what says spring more convincingly than daffodils and tulips? – and then we have the hot days of summer.

Love it, enjoy it and then leave it: winter (here near Truckee in the Sierra Nevada), pic: http://serene-musings.blogspot.com

But somehow they don’t seem to count in the minds of the Germans.  As long as you are not freezing cold for at least a few weeks somehow they do not accept it as winter.  And if you don’t have winter, then, it appears, you don’t have seasons.  For me the rain and short days here are more than enough for me to get mix  fix of seasons.  I once established the rule for a decent climate the following way: I have to be able to go to the trash container (about three steps from my back door) barefeet any time – day or night – any day of the year.  If that is a given, the weather is acceptable.

I am frequently asked whether I don’t miss the crisp freshness of a brilliant nippy fall day or the beauty of a sunshiny snowy winter day and my answer generally is “naw – you know – not really.”  I can certainly appreciate either – for a day or two – but not for weeks.  The more important issue is that the brilliant, nippy fall days, just like the sunshiny snowy winter days are but a legend.  There is one per year, sometimes two, sometimes none but by and large they are a fidget of our imagination.  One such day, especially if it is a weekend day and can therefore be duly enjoyed – is remembered for years, talked about and conjured longingly and lovingly.  The reality is quite different: rain, freezing cold, endless gray days, fog (no after two days it is definitely no longer romantic), slippery ground, storms in one word: yuck.

If I need a snow fix: there are the Sierras, drive there, enjoy for a few hours or days, drive home to a place safe from snow and all the inconveniences associated with it.

Man, I have become such a Californian 🙂

Fernweh

Fernweh seems to be a uniquely German concept.  I should actually rather say that there is no word in English for it-  and I don’t speak any other language well enough to know whether a good translation exists.  Still, it is sort of a weltschmerz, gestalt, weltanschauung type of word – somehow it makes sense in the context of all things German.

Fernweh on my mind, pic: zazzle.com

The closest translation in English, ironically, is another German word: wanderlust.  The fact that this is the closest “English” translation, does not mean it is a good one.  Fernweh is a yearning  to be someplace else – the polar opposite of Heimweh or homesickness (funny how there is a pretty good word for this in English).  And therefore it differs from wanderlust which indicates more of a desire to travel, to see the world, have adventures.

The two words are sort of like hunger and appetite.  As in “hunger for life” and “appetite for adventure” – one a deep rooted desire, part and parcel of a person and the other more capricious, more of a mood.

Saying that the word is uniquely German does not mean that the concept is not found in other places.  In fact, I think Fernweh is one of the essential characteristics of an expat.  As long as I can think I wanted to be somewhere else.  I always waned to go on vacation and never did I want to return.  I never was homesick a day in my life.  Wherever I went I (almost) always (there are always exceptions, like Paris in my case, believe it or not) thought I could live there, in fact, have a better live there than at home.

Weird, though, how this kind of loops back on itself when you live somewhere else for a long time and what used to be home becomes the “Ferne” – the distant place.  Now I sometimes find myself  – longingly – thinking of my hometown in Germany – and for the life of me can’t figure out whether it is Fernweh or Heimweh.

Change in Attitude

When I moved to the US in 1997 everybody back home (pretty much) was envious.

“Wow, great.”, “I wish I could come with you.” “So cool” were the standard responses I got.  of course there where people who thought I was crazy, not so much because I moved to the US but because I went back to school to add yet another graduate degree.  But secretly many of those who made negative comments did so because they were envious – and not the good kind of envious.

These days that is no longer true.  I mainly now saying that I live in California which most people equate with beaches, nice weather, extended road trips in cool cars, famous bridges and celebrities.  Still, people do know that California is part of the US and so increasingly the reaction is

“Really??” in the sense of “How could you” rather than “wow”.

Two words: politics and religion.  Although most Germans do not know the situation first hand enough information about the US can be be found in the news over there for people to realize that things are, well, different here.  For example, the notion of teaching creationism in school is nothing but ludicrous over there.  The idea that a country will not elected a leader unless that person publicly celebrates his/her religion – unthinkable.  The whole health care debate, having people go all their life without health care – I am running out of words for unthinkable.  A presidential candidate who has no foreign policy experience and offends people abroad right, left and center – not an option in smallish countries needing to get along with the neighbors and beyond.

Germans know enough about the US to find a lot of what is going on here frighting and weird.  And the enthusiasm which greets me when I say “I live in the USA, actually California” has markedly diminished over the years.

Parents

Every expats greatest fears evolve around their aging parents (and other relatives).  We live in fear of that 2 am phone call that can’t bring any good news.  My father just had a very big birthday and since I had just spend the entire summer in Europe and the prices for flights hadn’t dropped as I had hoped  I wasn’t there for it.

No, that’s not my mom. I picked the Queen because my mom sure wouldn’t like to be shown on the Internet, but the Queen should be used to it. Pic:britannica.com

He is doing very well for his age, mind you, but just that: for his age and the questions I am inevitably facing is “how many more will there be?”, “How many good years will there be?  Years where he gets around, is mentally sharp and able to enjoy life and his only grandchild?”  Of course, I am facing the same questions for my mom, but she is a fewer years younger and hasn’t had a big round birthday recently so it is easier to ignore the concerns around her for the time being.

And it is not just birthdays that bring the inevitable to mind, everyday problems they are having, with paying bills, cleaning the windows, painting the bathroom ceiling and visiting friends who can’t easily be reached by public transportation, etc.  So fear and a bad conscience at some point are pretty much a constant, albeit low level, companion in ones life. The question of what happens when the parents can’t take care of themselves anymore is best repressed, as there is not answer to it.  There will have to be one, some day, but right now there isn’t.

I have a sister who lives close to home and takes care of things.  She resents me for being so far away and not helping out.  If I think about it, I understand that position.  But I didn’t run away from my responsibilities because they were too much, I left long before old age was an issue, and I left for what I thought would be a better life for me, not to avoid taking care of my daughterly duties.   That gets hard to keep apart at some point, though.  Problem is that by then one is so enmeshed in a new life and new responsibilities, for example towards a child who for all practical purposes is a little Californian, that one can’t just up and go forever.

I am thinking that spending a year there will give me the opportunity to paint and clean and file bills like a mad person – but I do know that it will not be the solution, just something to appease my conscience.

Starting the Process

When our son was 3 1/2 we took a six month sabbatical and traveled to six different countries (the blog for that adventure is here) around the world.  We rented our house and rented apartments, houses wherever we went – so one should think that I know exactly what to do when it comes to planning long-term absences.  Yes, I do – and that’s exactly why I am, well, scared of the task ahead.

I am afraid that soon, this could be me. pic: acccbuzz.wordpress.com

It took me months the last time, literally, to get it organized and a lot of it was on the home front, so to speak.  Just getting the house ready to be rented out was a major undertaking in painting, fixing, cleaning, tossing, organizing. Then finding renters and doing things like canceling what ended up being 20 magazine subscriptions, dealing with the DMV over the driver’s license renewal which was due smack in the middle so I couldn’t do it before or after, paying property taxes, dealing with the cars,  health insurance, etc.

Abroad the situation was both easier and more complicated than it will be this time.  Easier because wherever we went, we didn’t really move there, we were visitors on a somewhat extended stay, we needed visa for India – and that was an annoying day in the embassy in San Francisco but it was just that an annoying day and then it was over – but no other paperwork was required.  This time things will be different, since we are going to spend a year and the Germans are somewhat anal when it comes to paper work and permits and such like.  For example, you can’t just up and leave and move to a new place in Germany (even as a German) you have to go to a special city office and hand in paper that you don’t live there anymore and then in your new place you have to do the same, you have so to speak, enroll in the new city.  And don’t even think about not following that rule, if they catch you it is going to be really expensive.

This type of stuff used to be normal to me but after 15 years here the mere idea of having my name and address in some computer at the local authorities makes me nervous.  What the heck are they doing with that?  Why do they need to know?

Bad thing is I have forgotten a lot of that stuff and new rules and regulations are now in existence.  I will have to do some real research on that – and the mere idea virtually puts me to sleep.

So, and now I will return to the garage where the cleaning activities have begun.

Once you are gone …, part 2

I argued before that after 10 years (or so) one doesn’t belong to the place where on came from anymore but somehow 10 years (or so) aren’t enough to truly belong where one moved to either.  This, too, is sad but true.

When I moved to Boston in 1997 I felt I belonged within three days.  Almost 15 years later, I know I never will.  I can’t quite say why or how that is, just that it is a fact.  In school I belonged because we all somehow did through our shared experience but later I realized that I am not an American, never will be and that this will set me apart forever.  Despite 15 years here, 12 in the Bay Area (admittedly more than many Americans spend here) I am lacking the cultural background and experiences people who grew up here share.  Sounds trivial?  Maybe, but somehow it is important to be able to talk about the girl scout days, that TV show in the 70s, and crack those jokes so much based in the culture of a country that I can learn, but never truly understand – or pull off.

I can simply not speak about my cheer-leading days not just because I never was a cheerleader (which I wouldn’t have been) but also because something even remotely like cheer-leading simply did not exist (and still doesn’t to the best of my knowledge whatever that is worth these days), not did homecoming or formal dances.  I wore my first long gown at the wedding of an – American – friend in LA.   I can of course, crack jokes about Star Trek – but only in German as I have hardly seen any episodes in English (and my English is very good, if I do say so myself, so it is not lack of vocabulary).

Where does that leave me – an observer, an astute one able to learn but still an observer.

So maybe that is just who I am, an observer, somebody who doesn’t really belong anywhere and for that reason might be the perfect person to live in the Bay Area, a place where most people who live here didn’t grow up and therefore don’t belong.  maybe the sense of not belonging makes us kindred spirits.

This realization makes me nervous about spending a year in German, what if I really don’t belong there and find few people who likewise don’t belong.  I guess, we’ll see.

The Great American Outdoors

and it is great.  Of course, I can mostly speak to California but even just considering California the outdoors is simply spectacular.  We have it all: the ocean, the desert, the lakes and rolling hills, the mountain peaks and foothills, the plains, the green and browns – everything from rough and unforgiving to gentle and lovely.

The central Pacific Coast after sunset. My pic.

There is nothing like a late summer day in the Sierra hiking, well maybe a spring day spend by the Pacific ocean, or a summer day boating on Lake Tahoe, or a winter day skiing or another spring day rock climbing in the high desert.  For me I feel that I am truly in California and in some basic sense home when I smell the Sierra, that mixture of fragrant trees and dust warmed by the sun, when I get out of the car and smell the fresh, clean air, hear the humming and chirping of birds and insects and know that I could encounter a bear.  And then I start hiking up the mountain to some little lake, nestled between the peaks of the Sierra Nevada.  This, for me, is California as it should be, was meant to be.

Europe has the Alps – and they are splendid – no but…

… but the Sierra for whatever reason is different.  Maybe because when I started hiking in the Sierra I did it because I wanted to, not because my parents made me  (as in the Alps).  Maybe because the sky is bigger.  I don’t know.  But I do know that I will miss the Sierra probably more than anything else, more than San Francisco – dream of tourists but a hard and expensive place to live in – more than LA – juggernaut of a city that I never liked.

But then there is the Pacific with its wild force and huge expanse that makes me feel almost as small as the night sky.  Just thinking about it – if I take a boat and continue straight on the next firm land I’ll encounter is Japan, the Philippines, Australia.  Awesome.  I’ll miss you, too, Pacific.

Little Things

It’s the little things that end up making live hard when one first leaves the comfort of the world one knows.  With me it was – correction is – bread.  German bread is just awesome, bread making is an art there and the variety and different flavors available there I have never found anywhere else, not even close.

German bread is the best in the world … prove me wrong. pic: http://www.rlv.de

The late 90s on the East Coast was a particularly dire time for bread.  What was served there under this name didn’t deserve it.  It was some white, spongy material that tasted of nothing and could be compressed to about 10% its size and would then spring back to its original shape.  California of the 2010s is a lot better, we even have a German bakery with good bread – if one can afford it.

Chocolate was similar, German chocolate is okay, Swiss chocolate is great and Switzerland is closer to my home town than the next school district for us now. So I grew up on awesome chocolate and found Hershey’s inedible.  I missed bread and chocolate and quark which simply does not exist in the US  (for an explanation of this diary look here).

Banking was another almost insurmountable issue when I moved here.  Back then (as now but less) people wrote checks.  They would go to the drug store, buy a bottle of shampoo and pay with a check.  I had never seen anything like it.  People don’t pay with checks in Germany, they pay with cash (or debit and credit cards, but much less than here, cash rules supreme in your friendly neighborhood supermarket).  When I moved to San Francisco my bank of choice  sent me what must have been several 1000 checks (no kidding).  I moved out of my SF flat 11 years ago and the occasional check I write still shows my SF address – and I am not even half way through the stash.

What I will miss most about California I don’t know yet but I have a suspicion that not being able to go shopping on Sundays will be a biggy, and where will I get those yummy little yellow mangoes from, and the Mexican spices?

Left Coast of the Country

California – the beautiful “left coast” of the country, pic: geology.com

I live in Silicon Valley and that choice of location seems to reflect my political leanings very well: I am a liberal from the left coast – and with that tend to fall into the category “socialist” or even “commie” for most of the rest of the nation.  When I go back to Germany my political views put me squarely with the CDU, that is, the center-right party, not the social democrats (this realization came to me as a shock as all my life I considered myself a social democrat but the reality just does not support that claim anymore).  I say “center-right” with the utmost caution because that party is still to the left of where the modern day democrats are in the US, at least on things like social welfare issues.

So every time I cross the Atlantic somehow I am morphing – mostly unbeknownst to me – into a different person, the bleeding heart liberal turns into a social hard ass who thinks, for example, that it is unfair and counterproductive to provide as many incentives as Germany does for people to remain unemployed and to exploit the system.

When here in the US,  on the other hand, we get in trouble for voicing radical opinions like that a society should be able and willing to care for its weakest and most frail without asking “What have you done for me lately?”, without telling them to get their shit together and stop being a parasite on society and without any hint to any religion.

Maybe that explains why our answer to the question “where do you live?” when somebody in Germany or actually Europe asks us always is “California”.  Occasionally – when I have the impression I am dealing with somebody geographically advanced – I will say  “San Francisco Bay Area” or “Silicon Valley”.  However, never will I say America or the United States.

It would just raise too many questions.