Hitting the Road - and anything else that happens to be on it!

One thing you quickly discover about America is that the car really is king.  Americans do not walk - yes they might go on a power walk at 6.00 am every morning or yes they might walk for half an hour on a treadmill at the gym, but walking somewhere to do something? Walk to school? Walk to the store? It just doesn't happen. 

I had insisted on a small car - after all there might be parking issues - stupid idea really as most of Los Angeles has been built since the invention of the car and there are car parks everywhere - individual spaces are at least half a size again bigger than back home. Parking was never going to be an issue.  A small car would be more economical - another fallacy - gas is so cheap driving a bus would be economical!

Neil had already bought his car and knew the process was extremely longwinded. We spent three hours in the car showroom completing the necessary paperwork, and came out, ten pages of disclaimers and documentation later, proud owners of a silver Ford Focus (oh didn't I have one of those back home?!). We had offered to sign everything in blood if that helped to speed up the process but unfortunately, American humour doesn't extend to sarcasm, and we were told that wasn't necessary.

So, I now had my car.  I could go anywhere.  I could go on the freeway.....maybe not.

Driving in America is a whole new ball game - you really do take your life in your hands everytime you get behind a steering wheel.  I'd never driven an automatic before - Neil's helpful advice of "it's like driving a dodgem" is pretty accurate - "dodge them" is also a pretty accurate description of driving in LA full stop. Never mind small car, I think an army tank would probably have been the wisest mode of transport.

But I persevered.  I read my highway code.  I knew the etiquette at a four way stop.  I knew I could turn right on a red light and run a couple of pedastrians over who had been told by the walk sign it was safe to cross.  I knew I could only drive at 25 miles an hour in a residential area or outside a school - but only when there were children present.  I was ready to take the Californian driving test!!

And if I passed my test then I might feel confident enough to take the freeways...maybe not.

So I joined a long queue at the Department of Motor Vehicles, took my test and passed.  I could now have official "Californian" ID (I could apply for a store card!!!). However, I do wonder why I even bothered.  I don't think half the population of LA has ever passed a driving test - the standard of driving is atrocious.  Don't ever expect anyone to ever let you in when you get stuck in the wrong lane and want to get out; don't ever expect anyone to let you out of a junction, or a car park, or to wave you on head, or even indicate before they turn.  It just doesn't happen.  Do expect traffic to come at you from all sides, undertaking as well as overtaking is perfectly acceptable here; do expect a car to come and fill that safe gap you left between you and the one in front.  Do expect the driver behind you to beep their horn impatiently if you don't move forward the minute the traffic signal turns green.  Do expect moms on the school run to aggressively compete to park as close to the school gates as possible (they double park on the dual carriageway here rather than let their kids walk the extra 100 yards to school) and do expect to see tiny little girls of 16 driving daddy's brand new SUV into the parking lot.

But don't expect me to the drive on the freeway.  I'm not that stupid!

Learning to Live the American Life Part 2

America loves to shop! And shopping in America can be good fun - we furnished the house in a day - it's amazing, you go to a shop, choose your furniture and it's delivered that same evening. I  did my best to make our house as light and airy as possible - keeping the patio doors wide open was also an option but it did get surprisingly cold in winter! I also did my best to fill up my closet! Shopping for homewares and clothes is easy - there are a multitude of TK Maxx style shops selling household items at remarkably low prices.  Clothes are also generally cheaper - sometimes the quality seems a bit lacking and there is a surprisingly high amount of polyester and spandex but shopping for named brands and designer labels is a positive money saver!

So, shopping for household items is good.  Shopping for clothes is good.  Shopping for food is bad.  Very bad.  No - I must remember our mantra - not bad, it's just different.

On my first trip to an American supermarket I took over an hour and a half to fill the trolley with less than a week's worth of groceries.  We could have been in and out of pizza hut for five nights in a row in less time than that!  It was very depressing  Food that looks the same, isn't the same.  Everyone knows that a biscuit is a cookie, and that sweets are candy, but a kitkat is a kitkat - it looks like a kitkat, it's in the same wrapper as a kitkat but it doesn't taste anything like a kitkat.  Talk about disappointing.

Americans have an incredibly sweet tooth (I am still convinced that food production is generally financed and sponsored by the American Dental Association - rot their teeth, send them to the dentist, collect the check!  It's a win win situation!).  Shop bought cakes, desserts and cookies are unbearably sweet, and  as for  sliced bread - try finding a loaf on a supermarket shelf that doesn't have tons of added sugar.  Jars, cans, and packets of all manner of processed food and ready meals line the shelves - literally you just have to add  hot water!  It's amazing I need never cook a proper meal again. Who said anything about being tasty?!

Organic and free range produce is not widely available - you have to seek out specialist farmer's markets or visit Whole Foods stores - lovely shops but expensive compared to the regular supermarkets.  Fresh fruit and vegetables are also surprisingly pricey - I could pick a grapefruit out of my neighbour's front garden but it would have been cheaper to buy it after it had flown half way round the world back to Tesco than it is to buy it here in the local supermarket.  How does that work? And of course, everything comes in very large packages. America doesn't do small. Great if you are a family of Mormons but when there is only the 3 of  you.....wastage seems prevalent. 

So, the house was furnished, the cupboards were finally stocked.  So what next on our learning curve? School. Daughter No 2 braved the inoculations and had her health check.  Once declared germ free she was eligible to be thrust into the American education system.  Again several mornings spent chanting  "it's not bad - it's just different"  as we experienced the wonders of public (state) school.  And then? Well I was home all day, by myself; I'd gone from being a working mum of two, to a "stay at home mom" of one.  I was lonely, I was bored.  It was time to get out there and start exploring.  It was time to buy that second car and learn to drive American style.

And this where the mantra definitely changes. Trust me - IT IS BAD AND IT IS VERY DIFFERENT.

Learning to Live the American Life

So, what do I like best about living in America? The weather is the obvious answer.  It really is wall to wall sunshine; it's warm - even in the winter we rarely needed a coat during the day - it doesn't rain, there's no wind - the met office here release a "wind advisory" if the wind speed is more than 25 mph - that wouldn't even get your washing dry in the UK! I love having the opportunity to get out and explore new places - we've had weekends in San Diego and San Francisco; we've driven up the Pacific Coast Highway, been to the Napa Valley, had a week in Hawaii. We're an hour to the beach and an hour to the ski resorts.  Of course we've done Beverly Hills and Hollywood - but they are probably the least exciting places we've been to.  There's so much more to see - America is vast!

And so are walk-in closets.  Now that is one thing about living here that I really will miss when I have to return to the UK.  My walk-in closet.   My first walk-in closet came with our first US home - a 1950's 3 bed detached "ranch" (large bungalow) complete with swimming pool, and a one bedroom guesthouse which had been built in the backyard without a planning permit - basically it was illegal and we had to sign a disclaimer in the lease promising not to use it!  Our house also came complete with a poolboy and a gardener.  It had looked great on the internet and we were very excited! It was situated on one of those attractive, wide leafy avenues you see in American TV programmes, beautifully manicured lawns - very desperate housewife-ish.  I imagined the neighbours popping in with their welcoming boxes of cookies....

It was all fantasy of course.  The neighbours barely acknowledged our existence.  The poolboy was a 50 year old Chinese man who spoke no English; the gardener was Mexican, and although he was very friendly, his command of English was just slightly above that of the poolboy.   He wasn't  actually gardener either - he was a "mow and blow man"- ie he was only paid to mow the front lawn and walk up and down the drive with his leaf blower. It was all a great disappointment.

The interior of the house was depressingly dark - dark wood flooring (Americans love their hardwood flooring), dark wood panelling, original dark 1950's fitted kitchen, and an original 1950's bathroom, with, yes you've guessed it "dark" green tiling. Yes all this darkness made it cool and shady- but I'm a Northern European on a two year holiday - I don't want cool and shade, I want light, airy and sunny!

Depression set in.  There appeared to be only one solution - I had a large walk-in closet and I was going to use it.  Shopping - bring it on! Oh yes, we were quickly learning how to live the American life!

Fitting In

So, I'm here in my bubble. What  more can I do to fit in? Do I even want to fit in? Surely I will be a happier person if I can just learn to shrug off and playfully dismiss my current bugbears as mere idiosyncrasies of living on this side of the pond? Remember the mantra - it's not bad, just different, and after all the weather is gorgeous which makes up for an awful lot.  Yes of course it would be easier to count my money if a twenty dollar bill was a different size and colour to a ten dollar bill, or five dollar bill, or one dollar bill, but hey, I'm an intelligent person; I can cope.

Surely I can get used to lightweight TV programmes  interrupted every seven minutes by five minutes worth of commercials? Of course I can - the commercial break is an excellent opportunity to stock up on snacks or make a cup of tea (every seven minutes?!!). Will I get to appreciate those lengthy commercials for pharmaceutical products that list every single contra-indication including death?  Well I suppose it's good to be so well informed - after all, I had no idea half these conditions even existed  let alone were curable (at a risk of course!).

Will I wake up one morning, eager to watch those local TV channels to get my dose of LA style news? After all, who wants to hear all that grim stuff about the global economy and worldwide humanitarian disasters anyway. There's a bear stuck in a tree in Glendale? That's so much more interesting!

And what about this "car" driven society? Will my legs really seize up if I don't walk for at least 20 minutes everyday? Of course not, and with gas prices so low why wouldn't you want to take your car everywhere with you?  Pedestrianisation - that so's European!!

But what about our carbon footprint? I suppose we might as well go for it and leave a big one - after all, it'll be good for the grandkids to have something to remember us by! 

So - all these minor irritations can be coped with. I will learn not to be bothered by the wanton waste as garden sprinklers water the sidewalk - after all it's not my water bill literally going down the drain and who am I to tell homeowners how to irrigate more efficiently and adjust their sprinklers to water the lawn not the pavement? So what if there is a lack of awareness and regard for the environment and the world's limited natural resources? Should I let that bother me?

And then there is fast food and oversized portions in restaurants - yes I know I can take it home in a box but if I don't want to eat it tonight, will I really want to re-heat it and have it again tomorrow? And don't get me started on political campaigning, health care reform, gun laws, dogs in bandanas, dogs in T-shirts, dogs in handbags, dogs in pushchairs....

You see, that's why I doubt I'm ever going to fit in and really feel at home here.  Take the dog in the pushchair incident.  So you could say: good idea, if your pet is sick or has failing back legs.  But this wasn't the case.  This dog was perfectly healthy, it was sat in a custom made pink pushchair - the ideal way to take your dog shopping.  No! A dog is an animal with four legs that should be running around  a field chasing a stick - it doesn't need to go to the shopping mall.  Unless of course, it was heading off to the pet boutique for a doggie T-shirt fitting....

Now when I think that's perfectly normal, I'll be thinking like a true Californian - until then, I'm staying put in my bubble thank you!

Why The Bubble?

I've been in Los Angeles for nearly a year, and when talking to people back home, I'm frequently asked, how does it feel to be living in LA?  I have got into the habit of replying "It's a bit like living in a bubble." It is exciting - but not all of the time; it is in adventure, but not seven days of the week; it can feel surreal but at other times mundane.  It's a bit like living on the outside and looking in.  We're part of American life, but perhaps not quite in tune with everything as much as we should be.  Sometimes I take refuge in my bubble; sometimes I feel trapped in my bubble, and sometimes I just think, what the heck, I'm in a bubble - enjoy it!

The move to LA seemed such a good idea at the time.  Neil had been offered a two to three year work assignment in California.  We saw it as a wonderful opportunity to experience a totally different lifestyle. We could rub shoulders with celebrities, socialise with the stars, and failing that, whilst hubby was at work all day I could sit by the pool, top up my tan, read every book I'd ever wanted to read, listen to as much music as I could fit on my Ipod, and just chill out....Doesn't it all sound wonderful?

Realistically we knew it wouldn't be that easy.  But we were ready for a change and new challenge.  We threw a huge going away party, kissed eldest daughter No 1 goodbye and set off, with daughter No 2, to the bright lights of LA.  Goodbye reality and hello......

Even though this was only going to be a short term assignment, we did plan on integrating as much as possible.  We looked forward to embracing US society, exploring our new homeland and making new friends.  It was only as I was setting the home page on my new computer nearly a year on, that I realised by opting for a UK website, mentally, I'm still in England.  Physically I'm 5,000 miles away living the American Dream.  Psychologically I'm in denial.  I'm still in my bubble.  So much for integration.

I keep a hoard of Sainsbury's Red Label tea bags in the back of my cupboard; there are jealously guarded bars of Cadbury's dairy milk chocolate stored in the refrigerator, along with very expensive jars of Branstons Pickle, HP sauce and Coleman's mustard.  We drive an hour and a half to stock up on orange squash.  I hide British magazines in a footstool and ration them out at regular intervals, lovingly reading them from cover to cover.  Every evening we tune into BBC America or we watch DVD's of old British sitcoms and detective series.  A year on I am still comparing our life here, to our life back in England. "It's not bad, it's just different" has become the family mantra.

So how do we break out of the bubble of Britishness; this sanctuary we have created in the madness of living in America?  And it is mad.  I miss the "normalness" of my life in England.  Obviously I miss my family and my old friends, but it isn't just the social aspect - we have made friends here.  In England I always knew what I was doing.  I had a routine.  I knew where to go when I needed something - I knew how to find a plumber, or an electrician, I knew what bus to catch where, what shops to go in.  Here you turn up and you start with nothing.  You have no history and nothing in common.  You think you speak the same language - you don't. You think you have been raised in a similar society with similar values - you haven't.

Sometimes I really feel I'm missing the point.  I'm constantly asking myself "why do they do that?" or more often, "why don't they do that?"

So how long will it take before we fully embrace our new American lifestyle? When will I ever find Two and a Half Men funny?

When will our bubble burst?