living, thinking and writing
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| PRACTICE living, thinking and writing |
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Friday, September 12, 2003 Welcome to LA The first person knocking on our door since we moved in was our neighbor next building. The only thing separated our narrow patios is a thin red wood fence with a couple of slits. Primed by traditional movies, I thought a welcome from neighborhood would be some fruit basket or home-made muffin. However, the mid-aged lady looked really troubled. Here is exactly what she said: “You moved in last Sunday. Every night, you came back after midnight. I could hear the talk, music, phone-ring…I am an accountant…I got up earlier…but now I could not sleep every night…the people upstairs also complain about you” Bin and I got very nervous. We’ve never been complained by neighborhood whatsoever since we came to this country. And we felt so guilty to make this lady look so tired. I swear we did not do anything fancy or yelling at each other (We did it a few times after midnight in Buffalo, but no one complained). But our normal movement troubled her. Then our promise to her sound so funny: “I'm very sorry...We will come home earlier and go to sleep earlier…ok, we will keep our window closed…” After we saw her off, after we blamed each other for making the accused noise, we came to realize how ridiculous it is. Who she is that want to change our life style because of her weak nerve? Then I got guiltier, am I becoming the merciless city people? The second day I got relieved when David, our maintenance man told me the lady complained around a lot. He asked me if I told her there is no such “shitty house made of paper in Buffalo, (House in California built in light material to prevent damage from earthquake) When we were in small city, when there is not too much excitement (come home early, sleep early), privacy costs nothing because the sturdy building and ample space. But in LA, such a liberal and exciting place while people valued privacy; we can not enjoy carefree life, because so many neighborhoods share this small and vulnerable space. We tried to keep our doors, windows and blinds closed most of time, but still we hear the people talking, toilet flushing, glasses and bowls clinking. This is a very good neighborhood, people are well disciplined, so as babies and pets. Cats never mew, dogs never bark, babies only cry at daytime. It is so quiet most of time that any normal sound turns out so noticeable. We kept our voice down, I only played my new Kawai (piano) when I stepping on the muffler pedal, and I cook Chinese food in microwave (losing all flavor). I wonder sometime if that’s the city life I want. Fun and privacy do not come together, unless you are rich, I guess. When we drove on I-405 towards South last night at 8:00, the traffic moved at about 25mph. When we drove on I-10 towards East tonight at 7:30, the traffic move at about 5mph. Bin decided never drive out of Westwood again except in weekends. I said we were the inmates of Westwood during Weekdays, Saturday is our parole. Prisoners of the city: now I taste the helplessness. When we were in Buffalo, we can drive wherever we want, however there is not much to go. LA, there are so much to see, so many friends to visit, we could not go anywhere most of time. Freedom and fun does not go together, unless you have a personal chopper, I guess. posted by lmeimei @2:48 AM| permanent link| | |
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