I am back.

I am back in a place where the nights are chilly, the sky not really blue and sunscreen unnecessary.

Here no road smells like fig leaves, no cicadas nor crickets chirp so loudly that conversation is useless, no fields of olive trees adorn the flanks of otherwise bare mountains, no tree bends under the weight of lemons or oranges, no one uses donkeys to carry heavy loads.

No one has lunch at 2pm, no one sells watermelons from the back of an old truck, the fish does not come to the market still alive in large buckets of water, peaches are imported, pastry shops don't smell like honey and almonds and cinnamon and don't remind me of my great-grand-mother saying mange, c'est bon pour le mariage, ma fille.

There are neighborhood parties, where no one comes to with their own musical instrument, where nobody grills meat, where no one drinks coffee, and where the longest food line is always at the tried-and-tested wurst place.

Old men aren't playing cards or backgammon in the streets; old women don't gather on the benches in front of churches or mosques; men don't wear silver bracelets.

Cars are well maintained, the streets are clean and there are rules and schedules to follow, failing which someone will get red in the face and complain loudly.

Cats and dogs don't go far from their home and owners and none of them are strays. Nobody pets an animal that's not theirs before asking for permission first. The permission is not always granted.

Music never departs from the minor and major scales.

There are no impossibly blue waters, no palm trees, no bougainvillea, no pomegranates, no oleander, no pine trees. Little here reminds me of my hometown, of the Riviera backcountry, of the streets of Tel-Aviv or Casablanca, of the mountains of Andalusia, of the bazaars in Istanbul, of the sea shore in Tangier.

I am back from Greece, where I felt, through a concentrated exposure to a startling number of elements of what I consider my culture, more at home than in my hometown itself, and I weep.

P.S. I'm actually much better today than I was a few days ago, when I was alternatively crying and positively fuming at being back in Germanland. I have, however, confirmed that one of the best answer I can give to the "Where are you from" question is "the Mediterranean".

I went to get my hair cut and the stylist who welcomed me in had me sit at a table with nothing else to entertain myself than my reflection in the mirror, the radio blasting I Won't Give Up (and who's singing I don't wanna to be someone who walks away so easily I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can maaaaaake at the top of her voice now ?), and the April issue of Maxi.

So I started browsing through Maxi, my first German women's mag ever I think. By the time she was ready to butcher my hair, I had actually read most of that thing. So here's some of what I encountered today:

Many people, knowing me well (or having had a glimpse at my schedule the previous year), wished me "many travels" for 2012.

The year started a bit slow, with eight or so weeks in a row spent here in Germanland, fighting the cold and darkness with music, hot chocolate, and budding friendships. I enjoyed the homeliness of it, enjoyed anchoring myself in this place, making it mine as I had never taken the time to do it before.

Still, as early as mid-January, I was already starting to plan a few trips, and by the time the end of February came, with its few days in Paris and holiday in Rome, I was feeling antsy and more than ready to travel again.

Then somehow things precipitated.

At the end of March I was in London, via Paris once more. Two weeks later I was back in Paris, on a stopover to spending Easter with family in the South of France. Less than a week after I was back, I was out of the door again, heading this time to Munich, where I have spent the last three weeks (minus a weekend back here in the place I do laundry, cook dinner with and for friends, and can cast a vote in the French elections) visiting colleagues.

Munich was good, work-wise and after work. We had a few days of excellent weather that made the parks so much better; I got to see a friend who is living there for a year (and hang out with Brazilian law students at the same time), visit the zoo, see some modern art, walk around a city big enough to do so for hours without getting bored. I can't say I really love it, though, in spite of what the raging comments from my German lab mates, most of whom either grew up or studied there, could have let me expect. In spite of its long tradition of SPD mayors and high rate of inhabitants non affiliated with any religion, the capital of beer is also that of Bavaria, with its deeply ingrained conservatism, catholicism, and Bayrisch-speaking, Lederhose- or Dirndl-wearing patriotism; as a result it feels too clean, and the life that a hundred thousand students (walking in the path, for instance, of the White Rose movement) could give it just isn't... there.

I am back just long enough for a few loads of laundry, careful repacking, and a final say in the presidential run before boarding the plane that will take me back to America. This is a long awaited trip, one that I have imagined almost since the minute I left Los Angeles eighteen months ago, one that I have planned for months, and that I am so excited to take that I sometimes have a hard time falling asleep at night.

I will stay there three weeks, visiting first good old Southern California, then Boston, the Chicago area, D.C., and New York. (The traveling does not look optimal, especially the part where I head back West a thousand miles or so just a few days after flying from the West Coast to New England, but it had strong constraints. I don't think you could find a better solution.) I will see dear friends, good people, and places I have missed so much despite the unshakable confidence I have that they are not what I want for myself, long-term. I will do science, talk science, breathe science in great settings where to do so. I will mix the old and the new, as I discuss new projects, visit my current boss in the institute that is welcoming him for a few months, hang out with people I met in Germany, meet with collaborators I have gained since leaving the U.S. I will go to the beach, have a barbecue or three, go out dancing. I will walk the path down memory lane and make more memories as I so do, and I will love every single minute of it.

Then I'll be back, at the end of May, most likely with an aching smile on my face. And instead of cooling my heels off and incurring the risk of wallowing in the pain of leaving, once more, some amazing people thousands of miles behind me, I'll fly out to Barcelona for a week of friends, sun, and music at Primavera Sound.

I don't think it too daringly ambitious to claim that this is going to rock my socks.

I had Ethiopian food for the first time. In the train back to Germanland, I realized I do recognize some of the people who seem to commute between cities on either side of the border. I wrote and debugged a whole lotta code, and had a board marker fight with my officemate. I painted my nails yellow and orange. Colleagues outlined a new lead to explore for a project that was in stand-by. I listened to my recording of La Traviata, with Maria Callas in the leading role, a total of six times. A friend invited me to go see Barbara. We discovered with surprise that movie theaters can be full in our lovely city, and settled for drinks, a long, long walk along the rivers, and a conversation about religion and politics instead. I rediscovered Harper's magazine's Weekly Review^[1] and started vaguely emulating its style in everything I wrote, including my radio chronicle for Je m'ennuie bien^[2].

Hugged my grandma.

Met with a guy I hadn't seen in eight years. It was fun. We share a similar "and then I decided to try research, and then I loved it, and then I got my PhD, and six months later I started a postdoc, and I love it, but I still don't know what I want to do when I grow up" story, as well as a love of the Magnetic Fields. Many people share that story (probably more than people who even know of the Magnetic Fields).

Hugged my mom.

Flew to Rome.

Walked arm in arm with my mom. Ate cassatta ice cream. Watched a left-wing protest, with friendly people who smiled a lot and tried to explain to me what this was all about, and a right-wing demonstration for some obscure reason, with very organized, closed-off people. Laughed gently at a museum guard who tried to flirt with me. Got very, very excited at unexpected modern art^[1] and at Etruscan antiques^[2]. Got my mind blown by La Traviata, played in a church^[3], by musicians of the Rome Opera. Bought incredibly pink shoes. Drank cappuccino in the sun.

Flew to Paris.

Taught people some creative swearwords in French.

Listened to Louis Armstrong almost exclusively.

Made plans to go hike with some colleagues I like.

Worked real hard on a project I'm getting to really enjoy.

Crossed the Rhine.

Wondered why someone would call Concentric Circles a photo of some definitely non-concentric circles.

Had bread, cheese, ridiculously delicious beef bone marrow, lamb shanks, ramen, petit-fours, and White Russians.

Talked and talked and talked and sometimes just enjoyed sitting quietly there with someone I enjoy sitting quietly there with.

Smiled.

I am chatting with a friend from graduate school, who is a few days away from his final defense and fretting a bit. We talk about someone I've met in Germany who now lives in the same Pacific Northwest city where he, his wife, and their five-month-old son are moving to very soon.

Him: "It's crazy to me, that you've been gone long enough to know people who are now themselves gone from your current place. Seems only yesterday that you were here, and all the whole crew was there, and I wasn't even contemplating ever finishing my PhD."

Me: "What's crazy to me is that I've been gone long enough that you and R made an entire five-month-old from scratch. You were barely starting to think about a family and now you've created a whole human being, happily chewing on nylon books and all."

Him: "Point."

Him: "Also the last time I saw you I was giving you a ride to the airport to catch a plane to the very same city we're moving to. How crazy is that?"

Me: "... Everything will be better after you defend, I promise."

Work Prepared. Lectured. Tutored. Graded. Wrote.

Social life Instant messenger chats, conversations about Tom Waits, science, or politics with your officemate, long emails and phone calls totally count.

Cooking Lemmethink. Baked apples ?

Travels Bought tickets to the Vatican (as much as giving money to the Catholic church pains me) and tickets for a classical music concert^[1]. Started planning out my... wait for it... trip to the U.S. in May!

Others Mindlessly reading books of The Southern Vampires series. Because my brain was mush. Teaching is exhausting.

Social life Painted myself as some sort of boring prude for refusing to see the point of entering a bar with in mind the goal of finding someone in there to bang. Felt my cheeks redden and my heart flutter at the mention of a friend's irredeemable flaws, which as far as I am concerned are somewhere between the most adorable quirks and solid qualities. Drank a lot of tea (including pretty unimpressive herbal teas, my politeness be damned) with various people.

Work Lectured for the first time ever. Two good things happened: it wasn't horrible, and I clearly have a lot of room for improvement. Failed at getting much else done, which (together with events of the past few months) sent me on a downward spiral of self-doubt and impostor feelings. Deliberately banned myself from working and having any kind of thoughts in that direction for an evening and a day. Mixed results so far.

Music Listened to so much Bach I've been whistling entire movements of his Cello Suites. Practiced my viola some (including Bach's first violin concerto, which I have a transcription of, but none of the Suites, although I do have transcriptions of those as well — a violist's world is full of transcriptions). Went to see Mozart's Requiem being played by an amateur choir and orchestra (as a friend pointed out, we're not certain that the orchestra isn't professional; as I replied, if the orchestra had been professional, the horn solo in the Tuba Mirum wouldn't have made us wince). It was, all in all, pretty good, but I nevertheless got annoyed at the thinness of the soloist voices, the lack of dynamics of the orchestra, the weird rhythm that appeared at least twice, and the uncomfortable haste that cropped up over and over again and killed the Rex Tremendae. I'm sure they had tremendous fun, and I enjoyed myself in spite of my pettiness, but I can't help thinking the people who got a ticket in the upper price bracket got ripped off — although admittedly, seeing more than the soloists' heads and a slice of the choir might have been worth a few bucks.

Soup of the week Green beans, small peas and broccoli, with a dash of olive oil. Thank goodness for frozen vegetables.

Music Gave three concerts with my orchestra, each one better than the previous one. Thankfully, as venues were steeply increasing in prestige. The last concert was pretty good, in spite of the conductor almost starting off with the wrong piece at some point my instrument being so out of tune that I feared it would never stayed tune during the concert (it more or less did). Could have been better, but it was tremendous fun and my friends were still bright-eyed afterwards, so whatever.

Travels More or less decided on dates for a trip to Roma with la mia mamma. I'm ridiculously excited, as always.

Beverages Had an insane conversation about beers with German colleagues. Unfortunately didn't understand half of it and forgot the other half, but man was that long and complex. I still picked a bottle of Augustiner at the end. Also had somewhere around my volume equivalent of tea, to fight off both the cold weather and my increasing frustration.

Cooking Carrot-ginger soup with bitter orange peel. Apple Jewish cake.

Fashion Got slightly offended at colleagues remarking on the elegance of my all-black concert attire. "Wait, are you wearing eye make-up? It's nice." wins sentence of the week. Embarked on a whole lot of layering (stockings + socks + leg warmers, undershirt + shirt + sweater). Despaired at the blackness of my warmest coat (in spite of the orange scarf and hat I'm pairing it with).

Work Got insanely pissed off at some people's way of sloppily approaching science and wasting my time at the same occasion. Got even more pissed off it took me so long to realize said people were wasting my time. Prepared for my first lecture ever, mostly by screaming insanities at the slides that were helpfully provided by the person I'm covering for. And by helpfully provided I mean that next time you want me to cover a lecture for you please just provide me with a list of objectives and keep your slides to yourself unless they're self-sufficient and easy on the retina.