USA

Summary

The following is a collection of emails describing my experiences on returning to the US after 5 years overseas. 

Things I have learned in my first two weeks back in America

In my first two weeks back in the US, I have learned the following:

1. Mexican food rocks, I am an addict, and my body was slowly withering away to nothing (by American standards) without it.  There are obvious benefits for an American to live overseas: learn new cultures, visit beautiful places, and the opportunity to be hated by new and interesting people. However, one thing the rest of the world seems to be notoriously lacking is Mexican food (with the notable exception of Cafe Pacifico in London and some random place in Garmisch Partenkirchen in Germany). Note to all Mexicans reading this: move overseas and open Mexican restaurants. You will be heros. We will have parades for you and give you the key to the town (after we steal it--we're Americans after all, it's not our key to give out). To Adriana, my Mexican friend living in London: quit investment banking and open a Mexican restaurant. Trust me, London needs one more Mexican restaurant more than it needs one more investment banker.

2. International experience is intriguing to people outside of America. Inside America, it's a conversation killer. Example from last night at the bar: Some guy: "You're new in town, huh? Where did you move from?" Me: "Germany most recently, and China before that" Guy: "Oh yeah? So do you speak Germany and Japanese? Or all three of them?" Me:  Totally and completely speechless. Now, I love America, and there are a ton of great things about my country, but let's face. This conversation could only ever happen in America. There were so many thing wrongs with his question, I don't know where to start. First, learn what an adjective is. Second, Japanese?!  Why did you get the adjective right here and totally screw up the country?! Third, all three? What, are there only three foreign languages in the world to learn. After Germany and Japanese, there's only one left to learn?  Anyway, this is clearly bad news for me. Given that 55 seconds out of every minute of conversation are spent in the past, and usually the recent past, if I can't talk about overseas, that leaves what I had for breakfast and what I do at work. (I skip breakfast, and my company does high volume scanning. Just call me Mr. Socialite.)

3. Many Americans have been allocated more than their fair share of flesh. Why is this?  I mean, we're not bears. We don't hibernate for the winter and emerge from sleep four months later.

4. Some things that signal fashion in Germany signal dork in America (or gay).  Example, my Pete the Cat (Goofy's next door neighbor in Goof Troop) t-shirt from Dusseldorf (a city noted for fashion). I can wear this in Germany without getting a second glance. In one day, I got hit on by the guy at the stereo store, got several stares, and then received a bunch of straight up retarded comments at a bar.  And in my own defense, this is actually a nice t-shirt. It's a nice simple green, and it shows my figure well (not in the ass-hugging German male pants way, it just looks nice). I will not be wearing this t-shirt again in America. And I was hugely disappointed to find that nobody likes my Dusseldorf t-shirt (though they can kiss my @$$ on this account--I'm wearing it anyway--Ich bin Dusseldorfer).  Fortunately, my jeans and suits from Germany are too sweet to disparage. Though everyone at my work is giving me crap for actually dressing nice now. This, after 5 years of shorts, t-shirts, and walking barefoot around the building. Fair enough, I'll be working in just a pair of shorts at home in Miami. I am so gonna hang up a hammock when I get there.

5. I really feel my roots here. I never did before, but having come back (by choice), I really feel my home in me. I realized this while listening to the radio while driving from Orange County to San Diego one night. There is so much fantastic rock and hip hop music that never gets out of the country. This is problem. In Europe, you hear the common joke, America has no culture. Which is crap, obviously, just because you can't define a thing, doesn't mean it doesn't exist and isn't totally palpable when you're there. In Europe they get all of our big bands (and Britney Spears), but not all the smaller stuff that makes you really feel the culture. To anyone outside of America, I recommend listening to the following CD's: Deluxe by Better than Ezra (great for a lazy sunny afternoon BBQ) and Jimmy Eat World by Jimmy Eat World (great high energy music for driving along the coast--and they're new album Futures is really good too), and the following two songs: "Kickstart my Heart" by Motley Crue (this is a classic) and "Sweet Emotion" by Aerosmith (make sure you get the version where he makes his guitar speak the words "sweet emotion" at the beginning of the song--it's unreal).

6. Lastly, living on Pacific Coast Highway is so sweet. The week after arriving I found a room for rent in a house right on the docks in Newport Beach. If you don't know PCH, it is the scenic highway (Highway 1) that goes right along the coast up California. My address is 4423 Pacific Coast Highway. The downside is, I don't think I'm likely to live in a place this nice ever again. Yeah, the cockroaches falling off the door handle in Egypt had that special little, as the French would say, "I don't know what", but the Californian coast is pretty sweet too.  Best of all, my commute to work goes along PCH for 12 miles. It is so gorgeous!  I was driving along the coast, with my sunroof totally open and window all the way down at 7:15AM (try this in Munich or Shanghai in the winter) grooving down to my music, watching the rising sun shine down on the Pacific (needed my sunglasses on), totally and completely stoked to be back in California.  The only thing that would have made it better would have been to pull over, buy a big fat breakfast burrito, and sit on a bench for 20 minutes just to take it in.

California, I am back.

Matt

From "The OC" to "CSI: Miami"

Well I've been back in America for about 7 months and I've moved from a lame TV show full of beautiful people to an interesting show full of weird people. :)

Actually, truth be told, Orange County has a surprising dearth of attractive people (excluding my friends on this list--don't kill me!). The funny thing is, I don't know if there are any areas in America that have more advertisements for cosmetic surgery than Orange County and Miami. Pick a local free magazine in either place and about 20% of the pages in the entire magazine are going to be advertisements or articles on cosmetic surgery. Fair enough, I guess. Who said beauty had to be a birthright?

Anyway, now I'm living in Miami and I have to say I feel really at home here. The area I live in, Coconut Grove is such a mellow place. I walk or ride my bike everywhere. I almost never use my car (unheard of in America). Now admittedly, I've seen a few too many people urinating in public here. I was at the beach one time and this Cuban lady walks away from her friends to go to the ocean and gets sidetracked. While standing on the sidewalk talking to them, she simply urinated through her swimsuit. The sidewalk was dry, then you just saw liquid pooling at her feet. And then another time I was at the Beach (aka, South Beach) and this enormous homeless lady squats down and...well, either she was doing more than just peeing or she was a man. My neighbor almost walked into a lamppost in an attempt to avoid looking as she walked past. I just walked passed and patted her on the back and told her to keep up the good work. (No, not really.)  Actually, to be honest, there are things I've seen in America since I've been back that even the Chinese couldn't compete with. Of course, public urination is a national pastime in China, but in retrospect they did usually manage to keep their privates private. And I don't recall ever seeing someone actually go _through_ their clothes. And then there's Bourbon Street in Nawlins (known to the rest of the world as New Orleans). Cool place. Just smells like piss. In all of  China, and believe me I saw a lot of China, I never went through a place that smells as bad as Bourbon Street. And China's not exactly a French salon de toilette.

Okay enough on Americans soiling themselves. There are really a bunch of cool things to do in Miami. I drove 45 minutes out of the city and then went bike riding through the Everglades. Now, the Australians on this list will of course be raising an eyebrow right about now. But yes, actually there is an area called Shark Valley (don't even get me started on that name) where you can ride your bike for about 15 miles and cruise past endless alligators snoozing on the rode. The funny thing is, they really don't want anything to do with people. We're too big for them to want to mess with. Granted, there are some that get really big, but they're rare, and mostly they just want to nap all the time. Kind of like Australians watching cricket really. Big, lazy, mostly asleep, and they only want  to get up to eat. I haven't actually decided who is lazier, Australians or Californians. I once had a competition with my friend Kurt in Queensland, and I have to say, it was a really close call. I vaguely recall both of us stumbling around in a semi-comatosed state snoozing on various pieces of furniture, occasionally falling over. The worst part was there was no alcohol involved. It was just laziness. The heat and listening to Creedence Clearwater contributed a bit, but other than that, it was just natural talent.

So my first experience at a night club in South Beach was at a club called Score! with the dude who sold me my couch and the hostess he worked with. My sales guy Alvaro, though flaming, had not in fact told us he was taking us to a gay club. I have to say though, apart from the obvious lack of straight women, gay clubs are actually way more fun than straight clubs. But only if you like to dance. If you don't dance, go hang out on the "take me home tonight" wall (Alvaro pointed this wall out to us when we walked by it). If you do dance, gay clubs go off. The best part is that you can dance as scandalously as you want and no one will pay attention, because there's always someone doing something way worse. Trust me. Go to a gay club and try to dance in a way that you think you'll get kicked out. No one will even bat an eye. Straight people just don't have it in us (unless you're a porn star). Okay, guys dancing well will get checked out, but it was never bad enough that I felt how women probably feel at straight clubs. Okay, so I've covered cosmetic surgery, laziness, and gay clubs...what else has America got...oh yeah, Elvis! I was on a business trip in Memphis, home of Elvis, and I was making jokes about white trash and velvet Elvis tapestries to my coworkers. Once in the customer's building, I walked to the project manager's cubicle and, no joke, velvet Elvis tapestry with candles and beads. I swear this thing was a shrine. If he had had 12 arms, it could have been a Hindu temple. I assumed this was in jest, and casually made a joke. It wasn't taken well. I never broached the subject again. Apparently Elvis is not a laughing matter in Memphis.
Speaking of which...I've got a great joke! If a husband and wife from Arkansas move to Texas to get a divorce, are they still considered brother and sister? Oh yeah, you all know you're gonna be telling that joke the next chance you get. Okay, the Aussies might substitute Tasmania for Arkansas, but basically it will still be my joke.

So it's strange living in an apartment I'm actually going to be in in a year. It's actually a really nice feeling after years of wandering around. But I'm afraid I'm getting a bit domesticated. I actually bought shower curtains for the first time in my life. Shower curtains, people. I've washed myself in rooms in China that were basically a toilet with a hose in the ceiling. I could have crapped and washed my face at the same time. And now I'm buying shower curtains. And what's even worse, I've actually _enjoyed_ painting my apartment. I even used faux painting techniques! Oh well, I guess we all lose our edge at some point. However, for all my domestication, I don't own a television. I wasn't really aware of it until a friend of mine almost went into anaphylactic shock when she noticed I didn't have one. (She is convinced I have rejected society, brush my teeth in puddles, and comb my hair with rocks. Actually, she admitted this.) I never really thought much about it though. I just have never owned one, and I didn't bother buying one when I came back.  The only time I notice it is when my friends call me to tell me that I've missed the Simpsons. (Lili, you are so mean!) And I certainly haven't rejected society. I actually own a George Foreman Grill (and for the record, George, your grill sucks). It's just that I've never passed a television in a store and thought about the fact that I don't own one. Oh well, someday I'll probably get married, and she'll probably already own one. Until then I'll stick to writing emails about my strange but entertaining homeland.

Let me end by saying how much I love Miami. Even all the urinating locals trying to turn it into Bourbon Street couldn't make it less cool. The weather is always great (though hurricane season starts soon, which reminds me, I gotta make a trip to Wal-Mart and stock up in true trailer park style). The atmosphere is laid back, it's full of impossibly green vegetation everywhere, and reggaeton is blaring everywhere, and it has the second best fast food chain in the world called Pollo Tropical (sorry, Rubio's Baja Grill will always be number one). And lastly, it is the city in which I have an apartment that I hang up shower curtains in, paint the walls with frou frou faux techniques in outrageous colors, put my bike after riding it around town, and go to sleep in a bed I bought five years ago after using it for three months. Yeah. Miami rocks. Come visit. I've got room and I've got time.

With love from funkytown,
Matt