本文发表在 rolia.net 枫下论坛"Exchanging Lives Down Under"
by David Hochman; Los Angeles, California
It all started with a list on a ketchup-stained napkin: "Portugal, Spain, Greece, Australia, Buenos Aires, Tuscany, Provence…" They were the dream trips. The fantasies. The sunny, happy, far-off places where we wanted to be more than just tourists. Of course, we had jobs at the time, but we also a sense that the time was right to do something truly dramatic with our lives. And so we did: we registered at HomeExchange.com.
Almost as soon as we listed our Los Angeles apartment, we started getting offers - and our hearts started pounding: A weekend apartment in the center of New Orleans' French Quarter. A four-bedroom villa on an island in Greece. A 27-acre ranch in Oregon! "Ever thought about South Africa?," one potential exchanger asked. Another began, "Interested in a house on a thermal pool in Iceland?" Iceland!
We held out, though, and I'm glad we did. A few weeks later, we got a note from a couple from Sydney, Australia. They emailed to see if we'd like to exchange our place for their art deco apartment down under. We felt an immediate connection. Malcolm is a journalist; I'm journalist. Wenona loves to cook; my wife, Ruth, is a born foodie. As the emails skipped back and forth across the planet, we found out we're the same ages, have similar backgrounds and like the same books, the same music, the same movies. If Malcolm and Wenona lived in L.A., we'd have a new pair of best friends. Naturally, we wanted to do the exchange.
But we still had those jobs of ours. After lots of talk (and more than a few therapy sessions), Ruth and I decided to take the plunge. As a writer, I could leave my magazine job and focus on my burgeoning travel-writing career. Ruth was only too happy to get back-to-back summers, courtesy of the southern hemisphere; and she also wanted to try her hand at travel photography. Once we made the decision, there was no turning back. We handed in our resignations, rolled over our 401Ks, set up some online bill-paying accounts and booked the flight to Australia.
Originally we thought we'd go for three months. Longer than a vacation, but not so long that we'd feel like Rip Van Winkle when we got back. There was only one little problem. As soon as we got settled in Sydney, we felt like we could stay forever. Yes, it was tough at first. We didn't know anyone, it was hot, we felt far from our friends and family and we saw an enormous spider in our bedroom I was sure was deadly (it wasn't). But Malcolm and Wenona were kind enough to share some of their secrets, and even some of their friends. We did the same for them, emailing lists of our favorite restaurants, hikes and weekend getaways. We weren't just exchanging homes, we were exchanging lives.
Being in another country for a limited time was also doing something wonderful for our social life. It was making us more outgoing. "We're only here for a few months," we kept telling ourselves, "we better make the most of it." So we reached out to people, cold-called strangers, knocked on our neighbors' doors and took any invitation we got for dinner or drinks. We ended up meeting some amazing characters. Our upstairs neighbor, Kambiz, turned out to be the great-grandson of the King of Iran, and though he called himself a recluse, he would astound us with his collection of friends at his Saturday night singalongs.
Our downstairs neighbors, Sue and Paul, were as different as could be, both from Kambiz and from each other. Paul was an artist, an introvert with the calm manner of a zen master. Sue was a lawyer and talked a mile a minute about every subject imaginable - religion, food, Aboriginal culture and, more than anything, fitness. She introduced us to her trainer, a 77-year-old Australian legend named Les Grownow, who allowed us into his invitation-only workout class. Three days a week, we would drive Malcolm and Wenona's little Toyota Corolla to the neighborhood of Woolloomooloo (a name we never got tired of saying) to an old police gym, where Les would teach us his old-fashioned fitness routines, exercises he worked out while living amongst the animals of the Australian bush. They don't make guys like Les in America.
We were really digging in. Even the most mundane excursions were turning into adventures. We'd spend a day looking for some exotic ingredient - kafir lime leaf or laksa paste -- for one of Ruth's new recipes. Or we'd drive around looking for the best view of the Opera House. Or we'd find a picnic spot in one of the nearby beaches or gardens. Sydney was everything we wanted it to be.
Three months came and went and we all decided to keep the magic rolling. Malcolm's career was doing well in the States and I was getting all sorts of assignments in Sydney. We started travelling around the country on assignment and Ruth was taking pictures to accompany my stories. Back in Sydney, she started baking madelaine cookies to bring to parties. Everyone told her they were so good, she eventually began selling them to one of the local cafes. In many ways, we were operating at full capacity and loving every minute of it.
After six months, we'd built ourselves a nice little community of friends. Walking around town, we'd run into people we knew on the streets. We were cooking more, and, thanks to Les, we were in the best shape we'd been in in years. But we knew, sadly, that our time in Australia was coming to an end. The days were getting shorter as the Australian fall turned to Australian winter. Our families started getting a bit impatient with us gallivanting around the world. And there was the little matter of our visas running out shortly. One morning, we got a note from Malcolm saying his newspaper wanted him to come back home. We could see the light at the end of our life exchange.
We're back in Los Angeles now. Our apartment was exactly as we left it and the city looks pretty much the same. Yes, there've been changes over the seven months. A few of our friends are pregnant now and some others bought homes or got promoted, but we feel richer and wiser in many ways for having taken the big leap. Malcolm and Wenona still keep in touch via email, and now we send them suggestions on what to do in their neighborhood. We've even agreed that if we can coordinate our schedules again, we'd happily trade places for a few weeks; as Ruth keeps telling me, "We'll always have Sydney."更多精彩文章及讨论,请光临枫下论坛 rolia.net
by David Hochman; Los Angeles, California
It all started with a list on a ketchup-stained napkin: "Portugal, Spain, Greece, Australia, Buenos Aires, Tuscany, Provence…" They were the dream trips. The fantasies. The sunny, happy, far-off places where we wanted to be more than just tourists. Of course, we had jobs at the time, but we also a sense that the time was right to do something truly dramatic with our lives. And so we did: we registered at HomeExchange.com.
Almost as soon as we listed our Los Angeles apartment, we started getting offers - and our hearts started pounding: A weekend apartment in the center of New Orleans' French Quarter. A four-bedroom villa on an island in Greece. A 27-acre ranch in Oregon! "Ever thought about South Africa?," one potential exchanger asked. Another began, "Interested in a house on a thermal pool in Iceland?" Iceland!
We held out, though, and I'm glad we did. A few weeks later, we got a note from a couple from Sydney, Australia. They emailed to see if we'd like to exchange our place for their art deco apartment down under. We felt an immediate connection. Malcolm is a journalist; I'm journalist. Wenona loves to cook; my wife, Ruth, is a born foodie. As the emails skipped back and forth across the planet, we found out we're the same ages, have similar backgrounds and like the same books, the same music, the same movies. If Malcolm and Wenona lived in L.A., we'd have a new pair of best friends. Naturally, we wanted to do the exchange.
But we still had those jobs of ours. After lots of talk (and more than a few therapy sessions), Ruth and I decided to take the plunge. As a writer, I could leave my magazine job and focus on my burgeoning travel-writing career. Ruth was only too happy to get back-to-back summers, courtesy of the southern hemisphere; and she also wanted to try her hand at travel photography. Once we made the decision, there was no turning back. We handed in our resignations, rolled over our 401Ks, set up some online bill-paying accounts and booked the flight to Australia.
Originally we thought we'd go for three months. Longer than a vacation, but not so long that we'd feel like Rip Van Winkle when we got back. There was only one little problem. As soon as we got settled in Sydney, we felt like we could stay forever. Yes, it was tough at first. We didn't know anyone, it was hot, we felt far from our friends and family and we saw an enormous spider in our bedroom I was sure was deadly (it wasn't). But Malcolm and Wenona were kind enough to share some of their secrets, and even some of their friends. We did the same for them, emailing lists of our favorite restaurants, hikes and weekend getaways. We weren't just exchanging homes, we were exchanging lives.
Being in another country for a limited time was also doing something wonderful for our social life. It was making us more outgoing. "We're only here for a few months," we kept telling ourselves, "we better make the most of it." So we reached out to people, cold-called strangers, knocked on our neighbors' doors and took any invitation we got for dinner or drinks. We ended up meeting some amazing characters. Our upstairs neighbor, Kambiz, turned out to be the great-grandson of the King of Iran, and though he called himself a recluse, he would astound us with his collection of friends at his Saturday night singalongs.
Our downstairs neighbors, Sue and Paul, were as different as could be, both from Kambiz and from each other. Paul was an artist, an introvert with the calm manner of a zen master. Sue was a lawyer and talked a mile a minute about every subject imaginable - religion, food, Aboriginal culture and, more than anything, fitness. She introduced us to her trainer, a 77-year-old Australian legend named Les Grownow, who allowed us into his invitation-only workout class. Three days a week, we would drive Malcolm and Wenona's little Toyota Corolla to the neighborhood of Woolloomooloo (a name we never got tired of saying) to an old police gym, where Les would teach us his old-fashioned fitness routines, exercises he worked out while living amongst the animals of the Australian bush. They don't make guys like Les in America.
We were really digging in. Even the most mundane excursions were turning into adventures. We'd spend a day looking for some exotic ingredient - kafir lime leaf or laksa paste -- for one of Ruth's new recipes. Or we'd drive around looking for the best view of the Opera House. Or we'd find a picnic spot in one of the nearby beaches or gardens. Sydney was everything we wanted it to be.
Three months came and went and we all decided to keep the magic rolling. Malcolm's career was doing well in the States and I was getting all sorts of assignments in Sydney. We started travelling around the country on assignment and Ruth was taking pictures to accompany my stories. Back in Sydney, she started baking madelaine cookies to bring to parties. Everyone told her they were so good, she eventually began selling them to one of the local cafes. In many ways, we were operating at full capacity and loving every minute of it.
After six months, we'd built ourselves a nice little community of friends. Walking around town, we'd run into people we knew on the streets. We were cooking more, and, thanks to Les, we were in the best shape we'd been in in years. But we knew, sadly, that our time in Australia was coming to an end. The days were getting shorter as the Australian fall turned to Australian winter. Our families started getting a bit impatient with us gallivanting around the world. And there was the little matter of our visas running out shortly. One morning, we got a note from Malcolm saying his newspaper wanted him to come back home. We could see the light at the end of our life exchange.
We're back in Los Angeles now. Our apartment was exactly as we left it and the city looks pretty much the same. Yes, there've been changes over the seven months. A few of our friends are pregnant now and some others bought homes or got promoted, but we feel richer and wiser in many ways for having taken the big leap. Malcolm and Wenona still keep in touch via email, and now we send them suggestions on what to do in their neighborhood. We've even agreed that if we can coordinate our schedules again, we'd happily trade places for a few weeks; as Ruth keeps telling me, "We'll always have Sydney."更多精彩文章及讨论,请光临枫下论坛 rolia.net