You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave….

Last week we received a letter, formally requesting us to be back to L.A. for some important documents. I’m not going to explain all the details here but the sound of this letter didn’t leave too much room for rejection or dismissal.  We had to go. Let’s just say that booking an international trip with only three days notice was not exactly in our budget plan… In addition, Josh had several quarter tests right before school Fall Vacation week-off, which all needed to be re-scheduled a couple of days in advance (much to his delight…). Fortunately, in the end Josh skipped only two days of school. With just one hand baggage each and an empty checked in suitcase, off we went!

The first impression from the airplane, while flying over L.A., was that of an unrecognizable panorama: the lush vegetation and the thousands of green front yard were gone. Everywhere I looked, plants and gardens were shriveling up and dying. It reminded me of when, as a young child, I landed back home in Jeddah after my Italian summer vacation: a limitless, deserted, dry city. 

Aerial view of Los Angeles

Then, as soon as I was able to identify the plethora of turquoise dots that represent the endless backyard pools, so characteristic of the city, I knew I was most certainly in Los Angeles! 

I understand that, during a historic drought as the one California is experiencing now, having a dead lawn can be seen as a badge of honor. Of course I am against the deeply ingrained habit of of watering environmentally unfriendly plants..such a money-wasting cycle! Nonetheless, this out-of-the-window aerial view of a golden landscape was striking, especially for someone who has spent the past 6 months surrounded by a green forest.

Aerial view of Berlin

As soon as we jumped on our rented car, I was reminded that L.A. has the worst traffic in America anytime of the year, rain or shine. Unpleasant memories are ephemeral; they tend to fade faster, at least for me. So I forgot, as soon as I left, what an appalling ordeal is to drive in L.A., especially during the rush hour. It’s only 30 miles from LAX to South Pasadena…nonetheless; we arrived at our yearned destination after 2 hours!!!! Going by bike would have been more effective… 

Indisputably, after experiencing both Paris and Berlin's metro systems...

 

... I am now more than ever persuaded that in order to resolve the monstrous traffic problem in L.A. (and at the same time reduce the pollution), the L.A. Metro Rail plan has to be carried on and hastened. 

Perhaps, one day, a tourist who lands at the LAX will hop on a metro and check in his Pasadena Hotel after only 20-25 minutes ride, as in Paris or Berlin…Keep dreaming!

We parked at the corner of Josh’s former Middle School is South Pasadena, right in time to see his astonished old mates get out from their class!

Afterwards we went to Etta and Nico’s house and from that moment on, it was all warm hugs, emotional tears, and familiar, passionate laughs with each and every friend we met: Nicky, Christina, Ben, Max, David, Sandra, Will, Isotta, Joern, Oliver, Mimi, Elena, Martino, Nicolo’, Jill, Paloma, Beck, Coco, Ubli, Abigail, Charlie, Simon, Fred, Giulia…It was a week filled with play dates, dinner, lunches, attractions and relax time. I felt blessed that so many dear friends made time to meet with us, even just for a couple of precious hours. 

 

 

During the weekend Giuseppe was able to join us for a short time. He arrived just in time to attend, completely jetlagged, Josh’s ceremony. Now I am married to an American and I have an American son. Hard to tell my feelings…

Before he flew back to Berlin, we went shopping in Santa Monica as customary tourists: I had several colleagues in Berlin asking me to bring them back items which are not easily found in Germany. 

 

In addition, we did something I believe only tourists actually do: we ate at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co and we took a roller coaster ride on the Santa Monica Pier ! It’s never too late…

Needless to say, when we were packing our suitcases to fly back home, my son began his unrelenting whine. It’s still hard for him to consider Berlin as “home”. As my dear friend Etta told me, “You can checkout any time you like, but you can never leave…” It’s true. I’ve been in California only 9 years, I still speak with a strong Italian accent, I make several grammar mistakes and I still cook mostly Italian food…but it’s hard for me to think of “home” without immediately picturing South Pasadena….