Returning to Palo Alto after three years' absence was not difficult. Speaking English all the time is so EASY. A no-brainer. I feel totally comfortable. I'm "in my sauce" as the Spanish expression goes (estoy en mi salsa). I belong here. I understand EVERYTHING. It's a relief. No more social anxiety about who I should sit next to because they speak clearly and slowly, or need to plan what I should talk about because I know how to say everything I want to express!!! Hallelujah! Maybe that is why I no longer feel the need to take a siesta around 4 in the afternoon as I did in Spain. I'm just not as exhausted by the effort of living in a foreign culture. Or is it the weather? It feels like there is air conditioning outside every morning until 9, and every evening starting at 6. With such low humidity, I hardly perspire. It's much more comfortable than the stifling humidity of August in Barcelona.
We came back to our old familiar house and our battered Prius was waiting for us in the driveway. Everything seemed more or less the same-- the businesses, the neighborhood. Only grass was dead and brown, thanks to The Drought. We have traded La Crisis for La Sequía.
In the Silicon Valley, the economy is booming. The house across the street sold for over two million dollars, and it's nothing fancy. A tiny lot in an average neighborhood, but located in the heart of Google and Facebook land. A can of soup at Safeway costs $2.50! In Barcelona I stuffed my two-wheeled grocery trolley to the brim and never paid more than 40 euros. Here, even at Trader Joe's I never leave with less than $135 worth of groceries, usually more like $150. And a takeout meal at Chipotle for 4 people totals $45, without drinks. I've got serious sticker shock!
Prosperity has it's costs. For example, we are bummed out by the Bay Area traffic-- quite a shock after three years of living without a car and taking public transportation everywhere. We're really lucky that we don't have to commute like so many people. Congestion has definitely gotten worse. The cars are certainly larger here. I've taken to riding my bike as much as possible-- much more than I ever did before. It's wonderful how flat and wide the roads are, and there are so few cars and people. For longer trips, sadly, there are few buses, and train service to San Francisco takes over an hour, only runs about once per hour, and costs $8 each way! How I wish we had a public transportation system that worked. I loved the way public transportation in Barcelona was a great social equalizer. Old, young, middle class, lower class-- everyone jumbled together and forced to interact, to be civil, to live together and recognize each other's humanity. Here in Palo Alto we all drive around in our big metal boxes, isolated from each other, only rubbing shoulders with the working class cashiers in the stores or the maintenance technicians who cut our lawns, clean our houses, fix our sinks, paint our walls, or deliver our furniture. All short, transactional encounters. I wish there were not such a great divide in wealth between our city and the one which lies just over the highway, East Palo Alto.
The work of moving just sucks. I had just spent the last three months going through and packing, sorting, and selling off every last item in our apartment, emptying cabinets and purging. Then returning home, we had to unpack everything we had carried, mailed, or stored and go through the entire process again of purging, sorting, filling up drawers and cabinets, and buying new things. It's enough to drive a person mad. We had forgotten we even owned half the things we discovered in our attic and storage shed. One box was cleverly labeled "Surprise! Crap." The sheer quantity of items we own is oppressive.
On the other hand, I am happy to back in the land of efficiency, where the internet is king. I can register for school, buy health insurance, setup cable TV, refinance my mortgage-- do virtually everything virtually, with a few clicks of the keyboard. No need to schlep across town during the limited office hours to do everything in person! I love it.
I also am thrilled to be back in a multicultural, multiracial environment (although there are no black people here) where a variety of authentic Asian cuisines are at close hand. And great Mexican food. Pho, how we missed you! Tofu House, my old friend, you are my comfort food. Chipotle, we'll never leave you again. What a joy it was to go to the Korean grocery store and stock up on seaweed, kimchee and frozen dumplings, and next door to it was the Indian grocery where I bought mangos by the box and killer samosas. Vegans are well-fed everywhere in the Bay Area, no explanations needed.
Sadly, we rarely drink beer or wine anymore. The days of cheap Catalan champagne (cava) are gone. Now I drink Philz divine coffee, but there is a line out the door for it. Good French bread is harder to find, and more expensive, but delicious bagels are plentiful! Produce is great here as well, and more varied, but also more expensive.
Of course, it's been wonderful seeing long-time friends. They haven't really changed, but their children have turned into giants. Catching up takes all of 15 minutes, and it's great to be able to fall back into comfortable friendships you know you can rely on. And of course, being closer to family members is a big win.
Despite the long absence, I MIGHT get a hug from friends, if that. Apparently there is no physical contact allowed here in the U.S. Man, I used to get two cheek kisses from complete strangers in Spain! I really miss the warmth of the Spaniards, the effervescence of their personalities. I miss the way they text messaged daily with jokes and well-wishes, and their effusive use of emoticons, even among men. People here are more serious, more distant. Is there an undercurrent of competition I feel? There's some kind of tension that comes with the faster pace of life here.
The physical environment is very different here in the suburbs. Each house separated by fences and lawns. I love the expansiveness of the sky and the trees everywhere. I missed that about being in the city. There is so much SPACE here, and so few people. It's very quiet and you see almost no one walking on the sidewalks.
The kids have adjusted beautifully. They are content riding their bikes to and from school by themselves, having a shorter school day (out at 3pm instead of 5 or 5:30!), reconnecting with old friends. Their public middle school is 20 times bigger than the private school they attended in Spain. It has a pool and grassy fields and they are free to eat lunch wherever they want with whomever they want. No more three courses and table manners! The campus is sprawling and they have to run to their lockers to change their books multiple times. They have two locker combinations to remember, two usernames and passwords, student ID numbers, PIN numbers, and more. Assignments are more computer-based. Every day they have to log in to the school website where assignments are posted. They email their teachers assignments. They are thriving.
Mark still watches the Catalan news online. We've met a surprising number of Catalan or Spanish families at school or through Trevor's soccer. I am delighted to speak Spanish every chance I get, and Mark is always practicing his Catalan. Trevor chose to read a book in Spanish last week, which made me happy.
We are content, but coming home is a little anticlimactic, because it is not accompanied by challenge and adventure. A month after moving back, it feels almost as if we never left. There's a kind of time warp where our time in Barcelona has folded onto itself, making it feel small and distant, more like a dream than a reality. Still, I hold it close to my heart.
