Across the Pond

White on white, hard to capture: iceberg roses Mid January, and we just cut the last roses: Icebergs, a burst of fullness but serene and still, white on white, hard to capture in a photograph. Years ago, when I was in high school in Innsbruck, my good friend L. used to give me the last roses from her mother's garden. It was an annual ritual I looked forward to, always reserved for the end of October. Unlike mine, L.'s roses came in colors - red, yellow, a washed out orange. Their stems were  often scraggly, the leaves a little smaller than they might have been two months before, at the height of summer. The memory of the recurring gift includes that of the giver: L.'s green eyes, quick and sharp, the big yet humble smile as she passes the bouquet, three or four flowers, thorny, wrapped in aluminum foil and a damp paper towel. L. was the smartest in our class, an honor student through all grades. After graduation she enrolled in vocational school, to be trained as...

Paper or plastic? Bag from South Africa. My friend recently came back from a trip to South Africa and brought me a reusable grocery bag. It is from Woolworths, one of the largest retail chains in South Africa; it is made by a community project and serves as a symbol of the company's commitment to sustainability and social development. I will think of this whenever I use my new bag. Thank you, dear friend! The Woolworths bag is not my first reusable bag. I carry two baggies which fold up into packs smaller than a deck of cards in my purse and a bunch of bigger ones in the trunk of my car. To me this feels like an easy way of making a difference environmentally. Others seem to have a harder time. When the county of Los Angeles recently introduced a ban on plastic bags for its unincorporated areas the new ordinance was met with resistance. Shops bemoan that paper is more expensive than plastic. They charge customers ten cents for every paper bag. Shoppers complain about ...

The rest stays the same.  Café  Prückel, Vienna It's been almost a year since we returned to L.A. from our two-year stint in Vienna, Austria. It was time to go back - albeit only for a visit: to see friends and family; to hang out at favorite cafés; to eat the food that tastes of home (Wienerschnitzel! Apfelstrudel!); to browse book stores, flea markets, and museums and to walk the streets of Vienna, hike in the mountains around Innsbruck. It was time and we went. We had a great two and a half weeks but guess what? Vienna hasn't changed since we left there last August. Neither has Innsbruck. In one year? Duh?! How would a city change as fast as that? You're right. I know. And yet. Here's what it feels like, here's the theory of relativity, as learned by emigrants and expats: when we leave one country for another everything is all of a sudden different. Language, culture, landscape, humor, daily routines, the job, the friends, the food. Everything around us c...