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Published: March 7th 2015
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I'm finding it hard to know where to start when looking back at our time in the US. I'm writing this from Mexicali, Mexico, having crossed the border in a friendly exchange of poor Spanish (mine) and poor English (the border guard) and the usual form filling and stamping. Being about an hour and a half away from the California border, America has clearly made its mark on this part of Mexico yet simultaneously, 'we're a long way from home, Toto'. Dorothy's words to her trusty companion rang true to me at a number of points in the US. It's probably helpful to say I never wanted to go to America. I had the rather arrogant but common view that it took the worst bits of English culture and made it louder, brighter and bigger and resented the ongoing repercussions their foreign policies have had on the world. Little did I appreciate how I would be taken aback by the breathtaking landscape, some of the insightful people we met and how easily the country can feels that it's a whole planet in itself.
Glen has written about our time in Washington and Oregon, so I'm tasked with the surreal and
slippery place that is California. California is VAST. A map of Los Angeles- California's biggest city- when lain over a map of London, covers all of London and goes on to stretch across to nearly touch Bristol and up to the lower part of Suffolk. While most people may have cars (it cost us just $90 to drive 800+ miles in a rented car with large engine), the public transport is ace. It may take 2 hours to cross LA, but the bus is reliable and the drivers are cool, for a fantastic $1.75 all the way. San Francisco has the BART which is handy and goes to and from Oakland and after weeks of being largely lost in India and Nepal, its near impossible to get lost in the vast, signposted, open roads of California. We began to miss the feeling and opportunities that being truly lost can bring.
The transition from India to USA hit hard in a dream-like fashion. The level of material comfort in the US felt heightened and often unbelievable. To be able to order a Starbucks coffee via an app while you're still in bed, to be ready for when you walk passed
on the way to work. The constant illumination of shops after nightfall. The never-ending range of diet-specific foods and fads. It felt sort-of-enjoyable but surreal. Contrasted with the high level of homelessness and sick people; San Francisco having a street homeless population of 6.5k, with rows of street tents being a feature of the cities we visited in California. Protests and grumbles about gentrification/regeneration (depending on your point of view) followed us down the West Coast as people moving in push house prices up and the existing communities out into suburbia, where services, jobs and transport are slimmer. Oakland being the home of the Black Panthers, we met a group who are demanding reparations, partnering up with Native Americans wanting the same. In each city we visited, in the few days we were staying, at least one person was shot dead by police. I felt particularly fortunate I'd made contact with a number of Buddhist centres along the way, that were a thread of consistency through the changes. Staying with generous people in each city, we were able to get their local perspective on a situation which, as an outsider, sometimes felt ready to blow.
Seeing the glimpse of
the spectrum of wealth and poverty reached its peak for us in LA. We stayed in a storage trailer in North LA in the frontyard of a man who has street kids and others who live on the road, from city to city, out in his backyard. We all converged in the kitchen to chat, share travelling stories and generally connect. Here we met two 18 year olds, travelling the width and breadth of the country getting by and whatever and whoever came their way, helped along by their charms, common sense and incredible ingenuity. In the evening, we met up with my cousin who'd recently move to LA after making it pretty big DJing. Here we got free passes to a party in Hollywood that overlooked the hills, the drinks broke our banks and the waitresses were models. Sitting in our grubby travelling get-up, watching my cousin DJ, having known him all my life and smiling at how on earth we'd both ended up in this city in a situation so far out of my previous experience. We got the two hour bus back to the mattress in the trailer.
The US felt like an interim; a bardo
between states where at times I spaced out, feeling I was in a dream or a nightmare; a range of songs and films swimming around my sugar-intoxicated mind as I walked the roads and places I grew up hearing on the radio and seeing in films. And feeling I'd been so, so wrong; it's not just a bigger, louder, brighter version of home but a whole mix of cultures within a culture in itself. And all set in front of the most stunning landscapes I've ever seen.
So back to the here and now. We skipped over the border, excited to start the next leg of our trip. We withdraw some money, it was gone within 10 minutes, either fallen out of my pocket or pickpocketed- who knows. More importantly, who cares; either way someone will enjoy it. Back to feeling slightly out of our depth with language issues, the 30degree celsius sun beating down on our necks and meeting kind strangers on buses. Our couchsurfing host, who teaches English in what she describes as 'the Mexicali Bronx', has asked us to go into her classes on Monday to talk to the teenagers in English. A class of pissed
off, ambivalent Mexican teenagers- I can't wait.
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