I had a surprising new sensation on this trip to America; it all felt a little bit foreign.
This is a case where the English language fails. A lot of other languages have two ways to say "I know", one that means to understand something as a fact, and another that means to be familiar with something. I know America, but it doesn't feel familiar anymore. I don't know if it's because I have been away for over 16 years now, or that I haven't made contact with the mothership in several years due to covid, but from the way people spoke, to the news coverage, the ads on TV, the neverending incessant need to get into a car to do almost everything, it all felt a bit a world apart. Other than the car dependency*, I don't mean this negatively. There's nothing wrong with the way people speak or the ads on TV per se (though I do take exception with pharma promoting directly to consumers), I just noticed things in a different way than I had before. Or more precisely, I noticed them; they never stood out before. I felt a bit like a stranger in my own homeland.
But that did not detract from the intent of the trip, to see family and friends, some of whom I hadn't seen in decades. It was great to see them in their local contexts, to understand a bit better what their lives were. It's one thing to know someone's moved to Memphis, El Paso or Albuquerque, another to see their homes and favourite haunts in their new cities. I got to kick back at Rachel's new beach house, be part of Natasha and Chris's rewedding, and see Russ's Summer retreat in Lake Tahoe. Surprisingly, the one regret I have was not spending more time in LA; that was truncated due to complicated reasons, and I didn't get enough time with my friends there.
Still, by the end, I was ready to come home. Ready to be back in our flat, walk to the store, wear a jumper in September, and ready to get back onto my course. My next placement starts on Monday; I will have four weeks at a hospice in East London, followed by three weeks in a same-day emergency care unit. It's good to be back to my London life.
Cheers,
Shaun
*The need to drive for everything started to feel oppressive by the end. As my friend Kimb'uh, who was also on a long return to America at the same time, remarked, "Feels strange walking amongst all the cars in an American parking lot - kept wondering where the people were meant to go. There’s no place for me."
Going native at Maruca's, Seaside Heights, NJ.
With Todd and Lady at Pieces in the Village, NYC.
Outside the Breakers, Palm Beach, FL. A lot of wedding history here in the Coley/Rankow/Watkinson circle.
With cousins Sara, Jodi and Tommy at the family-famous Poncho's, Dade City, FL.
Spanish moss and brick roads Savannah, GA. Now that it’s in a blue state, it's a definite must-visit.
Charleston, SC - nice, but seemed poorer and less charming than Savannah. It’s also much more heavily-touristed - and overrun with hen parties - it’s the (prettier) Newcastle of America.
A happy unscheduled stop, Asheville, NC. This town is like catnip to me: up in the hills, walkable, midcentury architecture, craft beer, localvore dining, and gay bars absent of hen parties.
Sushil picking out a souvenir in Memphis, TN. A lot of hurt in this city, still. It’s missed the urban renaissance of the coasts and interior cities like Austin, Chicago and Nashville, but that’s left the perverse upside of some really great city-centre space - rich in history - that’s neither been demolished nor hyper-developed. I wonder if Memphis might be the city that gets it right. It’ll be a tough ride either way. My cousin has built a very nice life for herself here, however - just outside of Shelby County.
"Sister Cities", El Paso-Juárez, TX-Chihuahua, Mexico. This city pleasantly surprised us. From the negative press on Juárez (across the Rio Grande), I’d inferred the worst for El Paso. While it’s not gleaming rich, it’s certainly not poor. It’s a nice little city, with a generous microbrewery and food culture, a visible artistic streak, and a strong sense of community and civic pride.
Breaking bad, in Albuquerque, NM. As a child of the desert whose firmest desire was to leave it, I’ll never quite get the appeal, but our friends have a very nice life here, and it was great to see that. It was also the very successful climax to our Mexican/Southwest foodie tour.
Bollywood meets Hollywood, CA.
We're all born naked and the rest is drag, right down to the facemask. San Diego, CA.
Art in Santa Ynez, CA.
On the pedestrian- / accessibility-friendly streets of Reno, NV. Lesson (re)learnt: there’s tragedy, and then there’s Reno.
Sun through the smoke in Tahoe City, CA. The smoke waxed and waned depending on the winds, and 3/4 Lake Tahoe was under an evacuation notice of one sort or another while we were there. Thankfully our little corner was not, and it often felt like we had the North Shore all to ourselves.
Mr. Lee died while I was in Las Vegas, NV. I am pretty sure Russ, Mike and I put several of his children through university.
And in local news, Sushil became British this week!
