Bittersweet
That's how you have to feel, when you leave a place where you've been rather happy for the best of five years, for, as they say, bigger and better things. So here comes the mandatory reflections well known of other expats all across the world, on having stretched your heart between two countries (or, in my case, two continents separated by the Atlantic Ocean — yes, I've been watching Eddie Izzard again.)
People have been lovely to me. They've certainly conveyed the message that they were sad about my leaving. (In some cases, jealousy might be involved. Cue the labmate who tells me "You guys are all moving away! I'm left behind on the fucking West Coast! I want to go back to Boston!") Since my final defense, I've barely had an evening on my own, and people have been wonderful at helping me having a fantastic time. It's been a whirlwind of celebratory and goodbye lunches, dinners, dancing (and when all the best dancers on the floor come ask you for a farewell dance, it would be hard not to be on cloud nine), bowling...
Saying goodbye is never exactly fun and I won't pretend there are no tears involved. Of all the people I've been close to, some are moving (or planning to move) to the East Coast or even, in one case, Europe; some will remain part of my professional circle, increasing chances to cross paths again at meetings and conferences; some have never been in my field to start with; and some are remaining on the West Coast indefinitely, while I have no idea when I'll make it to this side of the country again.
My closest American friend is planning to stay in Southern California, just traveled to Europe this summer which tends to preclude another similar trip in the near future, and works for a company that tends to send him to Japan rather than the old continent; we, quite obviously, plan to stay in touch, and although we all know what can happen to this kind of promises, I am pretty sure it will indeed happen, but who knows when we'll actually see each other face to face next.
Of course I am also making lists of what I will and will not miss. Here are a few pointers:
Things I will miss : People, people, people. A lab with a fantastic atmosphere and resources (almost) aplenty. Speaking English all day long (with fluent speakers, that is). Pumpkin pie. Thanksgiving. Hummingbirds. Being part of an extremely international community. My favorite dance club. The weather in any season other than summer. Reading the Governor's twitter feed, a source of endless entertainment provided you're in the right mood (although, of course, this will be due to him stepping out of office rather than my leaving). And for the next few months, having my own place (and my own super comfortable bed).
Things I will not miss: Orange County. Politics (although, who am I kidding, I'll keep hearing about Glenn Beck and anti-abortion murderers and racist Republicans and trickle-down economics and free-market this and that and what not). The lack of public transportation. The lack of health care. The anti-intellectualism. The terrible, terrible state of education. The management of my housing community. Being 9 time zones and 6,000 miles away from my family and European friends. Thinking to myself almost every single day that there is no way I can keep living where I live for very long. Equating personal worth and money. Atheism being abnormal, frowned upon, and equated with lack of moral standards. Communism being mixed up with socialism and both words being slurs. The whole "dating" system (about which I should probably write more in details some day, because it is, as far as I can tell, particular to this country). Oh, and writing my dissertation.
Don't get me wrong, though. I am very, very excited about what's awaiting me; I am happy with my choices; I am getting what I wanted, and moreover, I still want it. I am still convinced I could not be happy staying in the US. The trick is to focus on that rather than on the good things I'm leaving behind.
