San Fran­cis­co

Report - In the San Fran­cis­co Bay Area


Note: This is tem­po­r­a­ri­ly only an auto­ma­tic trans­la­ti­on.

In the San Fran­cis­co Bay Area

In Janu­ary 2012 I was working in sun­ny → San Fran­cis­co, Cali­for­nia. In the win­ter with tem­pe­ra­tu­re around the 18 degrees around the city (as San Fran­cis­co is cal­led col­lo­quial) the­re were some nice motifs. In this city, it was real­ly only the → Gol­den Gate Bridge - this mas­ter­pie­ce - that I real­ly lik­ed.

What con­nects San Fran­cis­co to the sili­co­ne?

Now I had lan­ded in the “Land of Unli­mi­t­ed Pos­si­bi­li­ties”, in which one’s own churches can be foun­ded and abo­ve all is exal­ted. Ora­cle has a head­quar­ters here in the Sili­co­ne Val­ley, and others of the appoin­ted grand­mas who fit into my pocket in the busi­ness card for­mat. What the hell. Actual­ly, I wan­ted to show up here as a reti­ree to mea­su­re High­way 66 from North to South Ame­ri­ca. The lat­ter is a dream of mine - and dreams one should have.

The flight las­ted over 11 hours north of the Polar­krei­se, then over Green­land, Cana­da and the snow-capped Rocky Mon­ta­ins along the Paci­fic coast to the south. Four hundred kilo­me­ters south of here lies Hol­ly­wood - the dream of every acting super­star.

After the landing here began my tour by ren­tal car on one of the huge high­ways. Watch out! Ever­yo­ne dri­ves here as they wish, on the trail of his trust. And it is con­stant­ly going in all direc­tions. A Garmin-Navi wit­hout lane assistant is no good. On equal crossings does not dri­ve right befo­re left, but who was first the­re. Turn right at red traf­fic lights even wit­hout green arrow. The traf­fic lights stand behind the cross­roads and not befo­re (!).

A “rene­ga­de” Ger­man met me - the hotel mana­ger - from Erlan­gen and 30 years ago emi­gra­ted. Nice to hear Ger­man words some­ti­mes. Accor­ding to the Ame­ri­can dream of the dish washer, the Ger­man has work­ed to beco­me a hotel owner of a luxu­ry hotel. Money is ever­y­thing here.

It is not a ste­reo­ty­pe - most Ame­ri­cans have in the first place the life set­ting to work for vir­tu­al money. On avera­ge, you work here as long as one’s feet wear a day. Holi­day takes you only 1 week to 10 days a year. The Ame­ri­cans have their holi­days and exten­ded weekends. Lea­ve is frow­ned upon, as long as you are not reti­red. It is not cal­led Holi­day, but you are in Vaca­ti­on, becau­se you just clean up. But, the­re can not be purcha­sed. Money and for­tu­ne - wha­te­ver it is meant to be - must come from.

Apart from that, the Ame­ri­cans are most­ly nice and, moreo­ver, quite as you see it in Ame­ri­can ever­y­day films. If one belongs to the beggars, it goes so. But woe to him who falls through. The American-Way-of-Life offers very fast traps. Then it goes under the bridge - fas­ter than you know. Who then wants to help you. And bridges are enough here. How the images then resem­ble each other - as in the midd­le of Euro­pe. Here, too, they exist - the dam­ned of this earth under the bridges with the signs to the breast “Help me!”.

The abun­dance seems to swell from all cor­ners and ends - at least it beco­mes so clear to the out­side, if one does not look under the bridges, behind the sce­nes or into rural regi­ons. Ulti­m­ate­ly, the enti­re sys­tem as well as the indi­vi­du­al lives only on pump.

The streets are end­less, the public and com­pa­ny buil­dings are huge. Most­ly ever­y­thing is spread out - per­haps also becau­se of the ear­th­qua­ke dan­ger. Miles-long bridges and many high­ways can be found in all parts of the lar­ge Bay of San Fran­cis­co. A lot of being, but also appearance ever­y­whe­re.

Huge pre­fa­bri­ca­ted indus­tri­al are­as, whe­re a com­pa­ny has its head­quar­ters here and the­re. The “For Sale” sign is always pre­sent. Infi­ni­te­ly long malls (shop­ping cen­ters) ever­y­whe­re. They are also most­ly visi­ted - after all, the avera­ge citi­zen has bet­ween five and ten cre­dit cards. You do not have to have any mice in your account to spend money. Vir­tu­al worlds crea­te unli­mi­t­ed pos­si­bi­li­ties.

In the shops I am inte­res­ted in only one - a Levis shop, per­haps an out­let shop for par­ti­cu­lar­ly cheap. San Fran­cis­co is the home town of Levis - or “Liveis”, as one says here.

North of the City and Gol­den Gate Bridge, the­re are beau­tiful tra­di­tio­nal wine-growing are­as towards Sacra­men­to. Stran­ge sights are also popu­lar here: From the zoo for bise­xu­al ani­mals to the most noto­rious high-security pri­son in the USA (on the island of Guan­ta­na­mo) on the Alca­traz pen­in­su­la (in the Bay of the City). In 1964 it was clo­sed. It was later occu­p­ied by Indi­ans, who were for­ci­b­ly expel­led in 1971 - not­hing new in the West. To date, no one has apo­lo­gi­zed for the geno­ci­de of Indi­ans.

Even the Steak­house is over­si­zed. In it a huge fire­place - for what actual­ly - win­ter is not here. What’s for lunch? Of cour­se - an Ame­ri­can blee­ding catt­le steak. The nice ser­vice tried to devo­te mys­elf com­ple­te­ly still to the ser­vice still ever­y­thing to the steak for sale - from the iced tea to the paper bas­ket for the used nap­kins. Busi­ness is legi­ti­ma­te - not just in Ame­ri­ca.

On the second day of the stay it was very quiet in the hotel four o’clock in the mor­ning. I could not sleep any­mo­re. I still do not get used to the nine hours time shift. Out­side you can only hear a dark, deep rumbling of the engi­nes of the over­si­ze, PS-strong, sprit­auf­sau­gend off-road vehic­les at regu­lar inter­vals.

Loca­ted in the south-west of San Fran­cis­co Bay in Sili­con Val­ley, the Sili­con Val­ley. Modern IT and semi­con­duc­tor tech­no­lo­gies began here. Major gra­dua­tes of the local Stan­ford Uni­ver­si­ty and for­mer elec­tro­nics engi­neers foun­ded com­pa­nies such as Intel, Goog­le and Apple. Of cour­se they all took their start wit­hout any means in scrap­ped gara­ges.

All in all, the west coast seems to be some­what dif­fe­rent from the east and north of the USA. Here one is less dog­ma­tic, among other things. San Fran­cis­co is sup­po­sedly the most beau­tiful city in the USA. The popu­la­ti­on is a colorful mix. Of the natio­na­li­ties and reli­gi­ons of this world, almost ever­y­thing is repre­sen­ted here.

One under­stands and lives with each other - well so.



Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *