Photo of voting booths courtesy of nshepard on Flickr.

By November 4th, I suspect that a lot of people in America are going to be heartily sick of hearing about voter fraud.

Over the past week, the spectre of widespread voter fraud has been relentlessly pursued by various factions, most of them aligned on the Republican side of the bitterly divided 2-horse American political system.

So, do we really need UN Election monitors at the polls? Will this election be decided by shadowy “leftist” groups who manage to nefariously concoct millions of fake ballots nationwide?

In a word, no.

Most of the current allegations are centered around ACORN, an activist group who run voter-recruitment drives across the US. ACORN’s fundamental problem lies in their operational methods – they pay canvassers by the number of registration forms they bring in.

Obviously, for some canvassers, this offers a temptation – fill in a few extra forms with fake names, and earn some extra cash. ACORN claims that they try to vet these forms, but it’s almost certain that their vetting procedures can’t detect every fraudulent registration.

But, ultimately, none of this actually matters.

Fake names on the electoral register do not automatically mean that fraudulent votes will be cast. In actual fact, it’s highly unlikely that they would be, for a very simple reason.

Vote fraud is a felony, and in order to commit it (and get away with it) on the scale needed to tip an election, you’d need hundreds of thousands of fraudulent votes.

Logistically, any one fraudulent voter is unlikely to be able to vote more than 4 or 5 times in one day. They’d need to cast each vote at a different polling place (lest they were recognised casting a second ballot), and there aren’t that many polling places.

This means you’d need, at absolute minimum, 20,000 people in a state willing to risk multiple Felony conviction for their candidate. Now, it could be argued that the fake registrations some ACORN canvassers are turning in can also lead to a felony conviction (they have in the past), but the risk/reward dynamic is very different there – the (often fairly poor) canvassers are trading off the risk of getting caught against the reward of extra money.

Fraudulent ballot-casters would be extremely unlikely to be paid for their efforts, unless there was such a systemic vote-rigging operation in place that it had access to hundreds of thousands of dollars to pay off its fake voters. Without leaving a paper trail.

So where, exactly, are you going to find tens of thousands of people to participate, without reward, in what would be the greatest group-felony in history?

It’s certainly not going to be the one-size-fits-all “illegal immigrant” boogeyman.

I can tell you, as a legal alien in the US, that any felony activity will see a foreigner (whether here legally or otherwise) deported and refused entry for at least 10 years. Given that people are here because they have jobs, friends, families and partners, the risk of being torn away from one’s entire life is not worth risking for any kind of political conviction. Those “illegals” who commit crimes are a minority, and sure, some of them might crawl across a desert and sneak over the border again, but you’re unlikely to find 20,000 such people per state.

All in all, then, the existence of an enormous, rich, shadowy “underground vote-fraud cartel” seems highly, laughably unlikely. It seems even more unlikely, given that the allegations are all focussed on fake Democratic registrations, at a time when the Democratic candidate is showing a significant lead in every poll, and has been for weeks.

So, what’s with all the “voter fraud” news stories?

I believe that the GOP is fighting two fronts here.

On the one hand, casting doubt over millions of new-voter registrations in the lead up to election day could gum up the works enough that sizable numbers of voters aren’t allowed to cast their ballot.

Just this week in Ohio, it’s been ruled that the state must immediately enact a new system to check new voter registrations, of which there have been 660,000 this year. If it proves impossible to do this, it’s possible (and no-one really knows how likely) that many of those voters could be turned away on November 4th, a useful result for the Republicans, who are trailing slightly in a close race in that state.

Given the current state-of-play in this race, though, I doubt this would be enough to ensure a Republican victory on a national scale. McCain is fighting a rearguard action in several previously-safe GOP states, and has already pulled out of states which were once considered “swing”. Based on current numbers, even victories in Florida, Ohio and Virginia, as well as too-close-to-call North Carolina would still leave him well short of 270 electoral votes. He’d need to turn around Nevada, North Dakota, Missouri and then erase a 5% poll lead in Colorado to clinch the presidency.

It’s faintly possible, at an extreme long-shot, but it’s a hell of a lot of work to do in just two weeks across the entire Union, at a time when McCain is completely locked out of the chief dynamic of the race.

Which is why I believe that the RNC has another reason for pushing the ACORN-baiting hard, and pushing it now.

It’s all about November 5th, and the days that follow.

One thing that sustained Democrats’morale through their defeats in both 2000 and 2004 was the notion that their candidate had been “robbed” by partisan dabbling in the vote-counting. Whether it was Florida for Gore, or Ohio for Kerry, the popular Democratic narrative in both elections was that voter-disenfranchisement had led to their unfair defeat.

The rights and wrongs of either side’s claims in these matters are irrelevant. What was important was the story which could bring people together; hold them in, and keep them believing in their chosen party. In some ways, I think this was dangerous – the possibility of an Ohio miscount for Kerry overshadowed the fundamental problems with the candidate (that he was about as charismatic as a park bench), and probably held the Democrats back from a more careful, honest re-examination of their message and their electoral strategy.

Regardless, it’s ancient history now, but it’s a useful and informative lesson for GOP strategists who must be, at the very least, making contingency plans for a 2008 presidential defeat.

The prospect of a President Obama is particularly dangerous for the GOP, since his entire political style is one of moderation, consideration and pragmatism.

The Obama I’ve seen campaign seems to be (for all that this might make some more-liberal Americans wince) something of a centrist, and if he wins, and assumes the presidency with the same measured approach, it’s possible that he could win over some of the flagging moderate GOP base who are deeply tired of the reckless abandonment of Fiscal Conservatism, and the over-pandering to the far-right which have marked the Bush years.

A President Obama, in other words, could cause a small but significant shift in the two-party power balance. It’s not that likely – Americans support their Party the same way they support their Baseball team – through any number of missteps, mistakes and bad performances. Besides, whoever the next President is, his primary job is going to be keeping a sinking ship afloat, leaving scant time and resources for large-scale, political-landscape-altering changes.

But if you’re a GOP strategist looking 4, 8, 12 or 20 years out, you’ve got to be considering the possibility, and preparing for it by sowing the seeds of doubt and mistrust. It’s a lot easier to pull your party (or your sports team) together behind a “we did great, but the other guy cheated” message than a “we sucked” message.

A quick note: I’m a Brit who’s been living in the US for 4 years and watching this election cycle with more than a little bemusement. I’m a taxpayer who’s not eligible to vote, which means I’m viewing the whole electoral process from a weird, bystander position. Whilst I personally believe that Obama is the better candidate for President in this race, the intent of the above isn’t to lay out a partisan case, but more to examine the meta-narrative behind this particular piece of the campaign cycle. As with many things in life, the subtle details beneath the “surface story” are often more interesting than the story itself.

My earliest memories of America look like this. I must have been 4, and it would be another year before I’d actually visit the US on a holiday in Florida, but I had an overwhelmingly strong image of America that I’d picked up from the television.

Even though it was deeply American to its core, we got a lot of repeated 70′s episodes of Sesame Street on TV in the UK, and one of the features I remember most clearly were the filmed segments about aspects of the “real world” beyond a neighbourhood where the most esteemed resident was a freakishly gigantic talking canary.

I imagine that most of these segments must have been filmed in LA. The difference of it all from the semi-rural English “housing experiment” I grew up in was startling. I dreamed of big, chunky vans and beige garages. And the light (the thing that really made today a “Sesame Street day) – it was startlingly clear, almost painful, but somehow optimistic and beautiful.

My dad was always a big fan of America and all things American, and I think that some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on me. I never imagined though, right up until the moment the offer was presented, that I’d end up living here.

Like any society which is attempting to balance the prejudices, fears, hopes and dreams of millions of people, the US is far from perfect. Too much of the “culture” is based on conspicuous consumption (although the UK suffers from that malaise too); too many people talk of “making their peace with God” whilst failing to make their peace with themselves.

But somehow there’s space here. Space to be what you want to be; just a little more space than I ever found in London. It’s those “Sesame Street” days which really bring that home to me and marry my childhood dreams with my life as it is now. And they make me glad, at least for the time being, to call America (and San Francisco in particular) “home”.

But even after the initial hard work is done and you really feel like you’ve arrived, there are still areas where you’ll find that you need to ever-refine your behaviours and expectations in order to increase your “comfort zone”. Are there five areas worth exploring with this in mind? Youbetcha!

1.) The “Native”

I wrote about this last year in the piece “Expat vs. Native“, and there isn’t much to say here which isn’t already expressed in that article, so go read it. I’ll wait for you…

…

…okay, there you go.

Last time, I talked about needing “social seeds” when you arrive – co-workers, or existing friends in your new location – in order to kick-start a social network for yourself. If you don’t have any other options, then there are various groups and websites dedicated to Brits (or Aussies, or Canadians) living locally, and they’re definitely one tool to have in your “social seed” toolbox. Fellow foreigners have usually been through a similar integration experience to yours, and can be especially understanding and supportive in your first months here.

However, you should probably be wary of just how much you integrate with such groups. I’m not saying that you should actively shun your fellow countrymen (some of my best friends here are English), but groups who have “being British” as their core reason for existing tend to encourage a bit of a “gin on the verandah” isolated “ex-pat” mentality, and that’s something which can seriously limit your ability to truly enjoy being part of a different culture.

2.) The Dating Game

Maybe you’re already married, or moving out here with a partner. In that case, this section is of limited use to you. But regardless, understand one thing – your accent will get you attention. American men seem less engaged by it than American women, although some of them absolutely fetishise it. And thinking back, almost every American woman I’ve met has, at some point in the conversation, dropped in some variant of the classic line “I love your accent”…

Americans seem to have a very specific, complex vocabulary surrounding romance. The whole thing seems more formal than it is back in England – people generally progress from “going on a few dates” to “dating” (which means you’re a bona-fide couple), to using “boyfriend/girlfriend” to refer to their partner. There’s no set timetable on how this progresses, and I’m buggered if I understand the rules, but it all seems pretty quaint to me.

Americans also seem to marry younger, and sooner after becoming a couple, than most of the Brits I know.

If you’re single, then I strongly advise living in a city. The bar/club scene is so much more vibrant there, and people are generally more open.

3.) The Corporate Game

Americans are workaholics, and the prevailing corporate culture is set up to perpetuate that. You will have less holidays (“vacation”) than you did, wherever you move from, and in some cases you may need to press hard to be allowed to take it.

You may well find that your American colleagues spend more hours at their desks than you do, and it can be easy to get sucked into this, and let work take over your life.

My advice? Don’t.

American corporate culture is based entirely (and too much) on appearances. Meetings are a national obsession, seemingly regardless of their utility. “Process” is king, even where it really does little to help out.

A little secret – many people seem to spend 10 hours a day in their offices because they feel it “is expected”, and their actual productivity eventually drops, relative to the number of hours “on the job”.

Performance is, at least, measured on results – work done. You really are better off resisting the “long, wasted hours” habit, and instead work to get what needs to be done done – in a sensible amount of time.

4.) The Driving

Americans love cars. As noted before, when talking about suburbia, they built half their country around the notion of the car. For all that, though, the standard of driving isn’t fantastic.

A few rules I’ve learned whilst driving in California…

• Don’t trust other drivers’signals (or lack thereof). People fail to cancel signals, fail to give them, or give them late.
• Leave yourself room, lots of it. Many drivers are both slow to react and quick to tailgate.
• Stay off the freeways at the start of rainy season. Firstly, they get slick with oil which is washed up by the first rain of several months, and more importantly – Californians forget, every summer, how to drive in the rain. They maintain the same speeds and distances. The first rain in October or November generally seems to cause a rash of accidents up and down 101.

Speed cameras aren’t really used over here, but highway patrols using radar are far more frequent, and unpredictable. Don’t be complacently excessive with speed – you will end up getting caught eventually. If you’re a real leadfoot, it’s worth noting that radar detectors are actually still legal in most states, including California. The cost of a reasonable one is less than a single speeding fine, so it can pay for itself quite quickly. I’ve never invested in one myself, but I do have a couple of friends who swear by them.

Parking is at a premium in cities; abundant in suburbia. Try to avoid driving in cities unless you absolutely have to.

Driving is somewhat different because the roads are somewhat different. You’ll get a lot more used to 4-way stops, rather than Britain’s roundabouts – and you should get into the habit of really stopping at them. I know many people who’ve been fined for a “rolling stop” – not quite coming to a complete halt before proceeding. You’ll find yourself getting very used to doing u-turns on roads with medians, and you’ll also come to very much enjoy turning right at a red traffic light when there’s no traffic coming.

Despite the apparent disregard for foot traffic in many places, road rules in California (and many other states) do enshrine the idea that “pedestrians are king”. Yield at crossings and generally take care. Unless some fool has decided to walk across all 8 lanes of the freeway (and yes, it happens) you’re likely to be liable for injuring someone, regardless of whether it was strictly their right-of-way or not.

5.) The Recreation

A side-effect of America’s incredible geography is the wealth of leisure opportunities it provides. The Bay Area, in particular, is less than 40 minutes from good surf, and about a 3 hour drive from the decent mountain resorts around Tahoe. Add in the hiking/biking/offroading in various coastal preserves, Wine Country to the north, Vegas a short hop away, the breathtaking Yosemite, and the deserts to the north-east of LA, and you have a varied and interesting land to explore. Make the absolute most of it.

When I lived in London, the place seemed very much like a “gravity well” – somehow difficult to escape beyond the confines of the M25 to enjoy different leisure pursuits outside. Here, things seem easier; perhaps partly (and sadly) because of the prevailing car culture.

Music and Theatre are alive and kicking, particularly in San Francisco and Los Angeles. I found it took a while to get my head around the music scene, and get to know the many, many US bands who are all but unheard-of in the UK. If you’re a music-lover, check out Pitchfork, the Indie bible, for samples and reviews of countless artists. Get to know the smaller music venues nearby – they offer a steady stream of entertaining shows, often for as little as $10-$15.

If Stadium Rock is more your thing, there are venues for that too, although most of them are so cavernous as to render the experience more like watching a band on TV. The HP Pavillion in San Jose is the crappest music venue in the history of mankind, and with tickets at a ridiculous price, plus a huge whack of “convenience fees” courtesy of Ticketbastardmaster, you’re really better steering well clear.

Sports are obviously different – Baseball and American Football are the order of the day. Having been to a few games now, I’m quite into Baseball – besides being a good opportunity to sit in the sun with a beer, it’s a real American experience, and a cute little game. I still have no bloody idea of the rules for American Football – it’s utterly incomprehensible. But it’s fun when you suddenly feel like you understood a play…

I love living in Northern California, and am hugely grateful that I had the opportunity to experience it. There are a lot of pitfalls along the way, and some hard work to be done if you’re to get the most out of the move. But if you’ve been offered a chance to come here – congratulations. Whether you eventually decide to stay a year or never leave, you really should take the opportunity and run with it. I’m pretty sure you won’t regret it.

But that’s just the problem, too – what awaits you at the other end of the journey? There are some definite hurdles to jump. Here are 5 of the biggest ones you’ll face.

1.) The “Vacation Feeling”

When you first arrive in the US, you’ll be surrounded by that certain sense of “the other”. The differences between life in the US and the UK aren’t that enormous, but together they quickly add up. The pervasive smell of air conditioning, the different weather, the road signs, the different cars, the “wrong side” driving, the different supermarket layouts, the different fast food chains… and so on. You’re definitely not in Kansas any more, Toto… (well, unless you relocated to Kansas).

The sensation of difference wasn’t anything new to me – it’s the same feeling you get whenever you go on holiday to a foreign country. The difference that gave me trouble, though, was that this wasn’t a vacation.

The upshot is that your first month will probably feel pretty “disconnected” – you’re neither at home in your new situation, or “at home” as you’ve known it up until now.

The good news is that the feeling will fade, until you’ve forgotten it, and one day you’re standing in the DMV, or the Post Office, or a Supermarket, and you suddenly realise “holy shit! this all feels normal now.”

And the bonus good news? Going back to your home country to visit isn’t nearly as weird. For me, the disconnected feeling lasts for a few hours, if that.

2.) The Invisible Man (or Woman)

Get your head around this idea right now: when you arrive, you will not exist. Without a Social Security Number, you are not a real person. You can’t apply for a drivers’licence at all, and in theory you can’t get a bank account.

Getting a Social Security Number is relatively easy, but you do have to wait until Homeland Security send your arrival records along to Social Security. When I arrived they had a 10-day deadline to do this, and actually managed it in 7 days. Friends who’ve arrived since have found the process taking longer, up to a month.

It’s well worth asking your employer-to-be whether they have arrangements in place to pay you before your SSN is issued, and to arrive with a reasonable stock of cash and at least one current credit card, in case things get tight. Some employers will assign you a “placeholder SSN” in their payroll system.

But what good is this without a bank account, something which you need an SSN for?

More good news – banks are desperate enough for your business that they’re prepared to skirt the official rules to set you up with an account. You’ll almost certainly need to show them a letter from your employer, confirming permanent employment and salary, and take your passport along too. You’ll need it for ID anyhow, and your Visa can be useful in backing up your legitimate status. Smaller banks are less likely to accept such things, but I had no problem with Bank of America, and I know people who have had similar success with Citibank, Wells Fargo and Washington Mutual.

Sticking with banking, your credit record will be non-existent, and there’s no way I know of to get anyone to consider your foreign record. This can be inconvenient at times – you’ll be stiffed (relatively speaking) on loan rates, background checks for apartment rentals may be more stringent (again, keep that letter from your employer handy to smooth things over), and getting a new cellphone contract will likely require a hefty deposit (I had to pay $500 which seems to be the going rate – and after a year the sneaky bastards won’t pay it back; they’ll just credit it to your account).

As soon as you have your SSN, apply for a driving test. The test should prove laughably easy to anyone who’s taken a European test, or driven for any length of time, and official regulations state that anyone who is resident in California must apply for a licence within 10 days of arrival in order to drive legally. This is, of course, impossible, since you need an SSN (which takes at least 10 days). But sooner is safer, if you want to stay 100% legit. Rules vary from state-to-state, but are broadly similar. Whatever, you’ll need that licence.

Unless you’re looking seriously old and wizened you will regularly need to show ID to get into bars and clubs, or to buy alcohol. Carrying your passport around permanently isn’t a great idea, and is pretty inconvenient. If you can’t drive (and don’t want to learn), contact DMV regarding a non-licence ID card.

If you’re going to buy a car and drive, be prepared to be treated as a “new driver” – few insurance firms will consider your past driving record in assessing premiums. The only exception I know of is Farmers Insurance. Of course, if your past driving history is lousy, the opportunity to wipe the slate clean may be entirely welcome!

If you’re only going to rent cars, beware that most rental firms want a licence that’s at least a year old. For this reason, keep your current driving licence (some DMVs may want you to surrender it – try to reason with them on this). Also beware that DMV won’t let you take a driving test in a rented car without a specific letter of authorisation from the rental firm.

3.) The Urban/Suburban Divide

Many small American towns, particularly those in boom areas and those further west, are completely unlike European towns. Sprawl is frequently the dominant town-planning methodology, and it can be a shock to outsiders. Many heavily-built-up areas (such as Silicon Valley and the LA tri-counties area) consist of a series of towns which all merge into each other. If you miss the “welcome to Mountain View!” sign, you’d never know that you’d crossed a boundary.

Suburban America requires a car. Even in areas with relatively good transit networks, getting around at night or running many errands is virtually impossible without one. Useful amenities are generally scattered miles apart from one another. Where sidewalks even exist, the pedestrian is still very firmly a second-class citizen. The situation is improving, slowly, but it will take years to remove the car-centricity from suburbia.

I spent a year living in Sunnyvale, and the commute was fantastic (6-7 miles each way, about 15 minutes) but in all honesty, holding together a social life was hard work. Driving to bars means that evenings are short – after a couple of drinks, you’ll need to stop (do not be tempted by the relatively cavalier attitude a lot of locals have to driving drunk. Get caught and you’re facing mandatory jail time (only a token day for a first offence, but nonetheless…). The charge will also play havoc with any future application for a visa extension, green card or citizenship.

Sunnyvale is fairly typical of the utter disregard for walking (or cycling). Although the city is now pushing ahead with plans for a foot/cycle bridge, at present it is literally cut in two by the 101 freeway. There is no easy way to walk from the south of Sunnyvale to the northernmost part, and cycling requires several kamikazee dashes across the entrances to freeway onramps.

That said, some like the suburban lifestyle. It’s quiet and laid-back. On the West Coast, suburbs tend to be inland and get better weather for much of the year. And if you’re a tech worker, your office is likely somewhere in the Silicon Valley sprawl, so choosing to live in San Francisco means a long commute.

Nevertheless, my ultimate personal choice was to live in the city, where I can walk (or cycle) from place to place, where a social life is easy to maintain, and where the attitude is just more cosmopolitan.

It’s worth spending some time in both modes, if possible, before you ultimately decide where to live.

4.) The Linguistic Hurdles

There are some changes you’ll need to make to the way you talk. If you want tomatoes, you’re going to have to ask for “toe-may-doe”; tuna is “tooh-na”. You’ll find yourself talking about the “shed-ule” a hell of a lot, and the last letter of the alphabet will have to become “zee”.

These seem to be the worst culprits in terms of pronunciation. Then there are the things which are just a different word altogether; places where British/Commonwealth English simply isn’t understood. A “mobile” is a “cell” (although in tech circles, “mobile” is generally understood). What I always called “saloon cars” (the 4-door family variety) are “sedans” out here. “Coriander” means the seed of that plant only; the leaves are “Cilantro”. What the English call “Courgettes” are “Zucchini”, and the English “Aubergine” is “Eggplant”.

Sticking with your English spelling won’t cause too many problems – most Americans are familiar enough with it. And I find that if I try to “-ize” my “-ise”s I’m inconsistent in how I do it.

If you’re at all foul-mouthed, you’ll probably need to tone it down a bit. Swearwords which are generally milder today (“shit”, say) have about the same level of offensiveness, but in many circles “fuck” is frowned upon more than it would be in the UK. And as for the ‘c’word… it has a level of offensiveness here which simply doesn’t exist in England. Best to drop that one altogether. Some profanities simply aren’t understood. “Wanker” and “bollocks” aren’t in the American vernacular at all; “bastard” is known, but only really used in the context of a man who wronged a woman.

You will find over time that your accent will start to drift a little, depending on who you’re talking to. I “americanise” my vowels far more now than I did when I arrived, although I still sound ostensibly British (with the occasional “are you Australian?” thrown in.

5.) The Network

This is obvious, but in a way which makes it easy to overlook. Unless you’re pretty lucky, landing in the US will place you back at “ground zero” in terms of friendships and social circles.

When I arrived in the Bay Area, I knew three or four people who had made the hop before me, all of them through work. None of them were close friends at the time, but I got to know all of them better in the months that followed my arrival. Together with various team-mates at work, they became the “seeds” for building a network of friends on the West Coast. Without them, I would have been pretty lost.

In the past year and a half, a tech resurgance has meant that more of my London-based friends and acquaintances seem to be moving to the Bay Area, and they’re lucky since I’m already in position to be one of their social “seeds”. But individual networks and circumstances vary, and when you arrive, you may not know anyone.

It’s essential that you’re outgoing when you first arrive, and that you take some time to socialise with the people who you meet and like, whether they be at work or a local bar. Together with the initial hard work of setting up an existence in America, and the varied ways in which you’ll be disoriented, a network of people who you can have fun with (and get help from) is the single best way to make the transition into a new life an easy one.

There is a lot to think about if you have the opportunity to relocate, and unraveling all the knots can be difficult, particularly if there’s some pressure to provide an answer to the offer.

I’ll admit that it didn’t take me long to accept my own offer verbally, in principle. It was made on a stifling Friday afternoon in a Sunnyvale conference room; I accepted the offer on the following Monday. My reasoning was simple – this was potentially a unique offer. If I moved to California and hated it, I could always move back. If I declined, I was left with a potential lifetime of “what if?”s.

Nevertheless, the process of moving is a complicated one, and it’s worth being prepared for all the steps.

1.) The Discussions

First up, you need to discuss the opportunity with a variety of people. Some will be useful; some might make the decision harder. Broadly, there are a couple of conversations you really must have.

• Friends and family – you’re going to be moving a long way away; It’ll cost you around $700 each time to fly home, and you’ll likely have less “vacation” than you do now. People who see you regularly will likely only see you once or twice a year – a Christmas visit home, perhaps, and any visits which your friends/family make to see you. This needs to be out in the open. Likely, they will be supportive – a relocation generally comes with an amazing opportunity. But let them know what’s going on, and let them talk it through with you.
• Lovers and dependents – girlfriends, wives, children… if you have them. Moving a whole family (or relationship) will complicate visa issues, and might not be immediately possible. If you’re in a casual/short-term relationship and your partner is unable/unwilling to move, the relationship will probably not survive a separation of this distance, and the break-up will likely be painful. Think about it fully beforehand.
• Americans – If you have American friends, or friends-of-friends, talk it over with them. They generally have some useful perspectives on their own country. They won’t be entirely subjective about it, but their insights will give you a good feel for some of the unexpected quirks you’ll likely have to deal with.
• Brits who already made the jump – If you work for a large international firm, the chances are the American office will already have some ex-pats. Try to connect with them – they’ll have a bunch of advice which will be directly applicable to your situation. Failing that, you can search for blogs written by expats in California, and post comments which inspire them to write advice for you…

These discussions should mostly be approached as information-gathering. The final decision on whether to move is yours alone to take, but you need to know how it will affect your relationships; and you can always benefit from knowing more about the kinds of issues you’ll encounter stateside.

2.) The Package

What your company offers you should be paramount in your decision on whether to relocate. Without the right support you run a much higher risk of having a bad experience. What you’re offered will likely depend on who you’re working for (Yahoo! and Google have more resources to support employees than MyWeb2.0Startup Inc.), but there are some basics to consider.

First up, the items that are essential. If any of these are not offered, or flat refused, think very hard about running away.

• A reasonable salary – Cost of living in the Bay Area is slightly (but not much) below that of London. Rent is very similar (perhaps £100/month cheaper on average), food (particularly eating out), clothes and electronics are cheaper. At a very informal estimate, I’d say my day-to-day cost of living is about 10% lower here. Anything above $70,000 is a solidly livable wage. A good sign is a firm who will translate your current salary into dollars (and perhaps add a percentage on top )
• Reasonable vacations – “Reasonable” in the US is different to “reasonable” in Europe. 10 days per year is a standard starting allowance; longer-term employees should be getting at least 15 days. “No vacations” is a bad sign.
• Health insurance – It’s absolutely essential, and paying for it yourself isn’t cheap. Try to get some details of the policies. You want to look for high coverage rates – some policies will only cover 70-80% of costs, which could still land you with a $20,000 bill for something like a badly broken leg.
• Immigration lawyers – Immigration law is a minefield, and you want someone in your corner. It’s also worth knowing if your firm will support any Green Card application you might wish to make. The lawyers should advise you on all the doucmentation you need, and the forms you need to fill. They should also check your application before you submit it. The US Embassy is unforgiving – a single mistake on a form will usually be enough to send you back to square one.

Then there are the items which aren’t 100% essential, but make life a whole lot easier.

• Relocation costs – It’s a good sign if your firm will pay to ship your belongings to the US, and will save you considerable amounts of money.
• Housing/Rental car on arrival – Knowing you have somewhere to live (and some way to get around) for your first month will make life a lot less stressful, and gives you a base to do all the settling in that I’ll tell you about in Part II. You can arrange these things yourself, but having support means there’s one less thing to worry about.
• An “arrival allowance” – Settling in is expensive, and wranglings with banks and Social Security can delay your first salary. Some money to set you on your feet is always good.
• A tax accountant – You’ll need to file both a UK and a US tax return after your first year here (April in the UK, January in the US). The US Tax Code is pretty crazy; having someone to help you through it is invaluable.

3.) The Visa

How you’re relocating will be largely affected by your visa eligibility. If you’ve worked for an international firm for more than a year (and they’re relocating you), you will be eligible for an L-1 visa. This lasts an initial period of 3 years, with up to a 2 year extension on top. The downside is that it’s tied to your company – get fired or downsized and you will need to leave the US within 2 weeks. L-1s, however, have no yearly quotas attached, and are fairly easy to obtain if your company is large.

Many immigrants come to America with an H-1B visa. This is for “skilled workers” (such as software engineers). The visa must be sponsored by a company, but is more flexible than the L-1 – you can move to another US firm, provided they’re prepared to take over sponsorship of your visa. However, H-1Bs have yearly quotas set by the Government. The quota pools open in March of each year, and a visa granted from that pool allows entry in October of the same year. Quotas run out fast – usually within 4-8 weeks of the pool opening. Right now, anyone wanting an H-1B will need to apply in March 2008, for entry in October 2008.

A few lucky individuals are eligible for an O-1 visa, for “workers of extraordinary ability”. This is not tied to an individual firm, and has no quotas, but is difficult to apply for. You generally need to be considered a “global expert in your field”, and there is a points-based system for determining this, depending on published works (books, theses), established dominance in a field (perhaps you’re on a W3C committee, or regularly advise the UN on your field) and other “indicators”, such as the grant of patents in your name. Unless you’re pretty sure you’re famously brilliant, an O-1 is probably out of reach.

Applying for a visa takes quite a bit of paperwork, and an excruciatingly dull visit to the US Embassy (where you’ll sit around for 2-3 hours whilst background checks are run). Your firm should provide assistance with this (more in “The Package” above), but even so, you’ll need to gather a lot of supporting paperwork (old passports, degree certificates, references, American-style passport photos – Snappy Snaps do them). You cannot apply without an appointment, which you’ll have to arrange via the Embassy’s £1.50/minute “hotline”. Typically, you’ll have to wait 2-4 weeks for a free appointment.

In addition, the US Government has recently added “surcharges” to most visas. In addition to the £60-ish fee for the appointment, you’ll pay a varying sum (an L-1 is currently $500) for the visa itself. Make sure you have the money spare, or that your company will loan/reimburse you the costs.

The visa appointment will also contain an “interview”, where you stand at an odd booth and field any questions that an Immigration officer has. The direction of these interviews is entirely on their whim, and they get the final say on whether you get a visa. If you’re a white Englishman, you’re unlikely to get much trouble – I was asked two questions (one forgotten, the other “so, how come you’re an English Lit grad who’s a computer engineer?”) and that was it.
Once you arrive in the US, you will eventually (effectively ‘immediately’on an L-1; after a year on an H-1B) be eligible to apply for a Green Card. This is worth doing if you think you’re going to want to stay for longer than 5 years. The process of applying for a “labor-based” Green Card takes 2-3 years, but once you’re in the system your visa can be extended indefinitely, until a decision is made regarding your application.

4.) The Hiatus

Once you’ve committed to relocating, you will enter a strange ‘twilight-zone’period of your life, where things seem to be on hold, all waiting for the day when you move. This is an inevitable, and somewhat disorienting position to be in. But the vagaries of the visa application process, plus the likely need to break a lease (or sell a house), and the fact that you’ll be shipping your possessions to the US sometime before you leave… all these things will leave you with at least a month where you’re no longer quite living in the UK, but neither have you yet moved.

The timing of my lease-break meant that I was sleeping on a friend’s floor for the whole of December 2004, living out of a suitcase which contained the barest essentials of my life. It can be frustrating – having committed to such a dramatic change you really want to just get on with it. Instead, your “old life” slowly winds down and fades away before you can board the plane.

Be prepared to feel a little confused, and a little melancholy.

5.) The Timetable

The severity of “the hiatus” will depend on how well your timetable fits together. This is not entirely under your control – it could be that your employer has a fixed idea of your Stateside “start date”, and it could be that your visa appointment is delayed, or the application takes too long to process.

The two golden rules are:

• Don’t book a flight until you have your visa in your hand
• Try not to cancel your lease/move out too early

The three major things to juggle are the shipping of your belongings, the visa, and your current home. Obviously, it’s easiest to ship your things whilst you’re still living under your own roof, but you don’t want to send a containerload of stuff to a country which might deny you a visa. So sort the visa out early, and then plan everything else around it. Ideally, ship your stuff just before you move out of home (but bear in mind that sea-freight from the UK to California takes 6 weeks). The shorter time your without your stuff, the better.

If you don’t have much stuff (crucially, furniture) it may be as cheap to air-freight your goods. This takes only 2 weeks, so with good timing on your side, you can spend very little time without your belongings.

So with all that under your belt, you’ll likely be sleeping on someone’s floor clutching a one-way plane ticket to the US. You’ve successfully tied up your loose ends, sorted out your new job, got your visa – you’re ready to go. So what the hell happens when you actually step off the plane at the other end? Stay tuned for the next thrilling installment…

Ian wrote:

Hey – i found this blog while searching for information on moving to Northern California from the Uk…

Similar to you, I have been offered the chance to move with work out there, and would love to hear any tips/reccomendations you can give!

There are various nuggets of information buried in articles on this site, but I thought that for Ian’s sake (and given the seeming rise in Valley-bound immigrants blown here by bubble2.0) I’d re-capture some of the advice as concisely as possible.

There are 3 posts I’m going to write on this subject, each covering 5 useful areas that I think every immigrant should know about. This is all (as always) from the point-of-view of an Englishman relocating to Northern California, but I hope that it’s useful for any English-speaker who might be pondering a relocation to the US.

The first two parts are now available. Part III is coming Real Soon Now(TM).

• Relocating, Part I (“before you move”)
• Relocating, Part II (“arriving in America”)
• Relocating, Part III (“settling down”)

In addition to the points I cover here, I’ll provide one book reference:

“Living and Working in America” by David Hampshire (Survival Books, ISBN 1 901130 61 4)
[On Amazon UK | On Amazon.com ]

I can’t recommend this book highly enough – it answers almost every question you could have, and is a big comfort to have around as a reassuring advisor whilst you’re leaping into the unknown.

But heading out to the slopes in late January gave me a weird insight which should have been pretty obvious by now, but somehow wasn’t. I wasn’t a confident teenager at all; shy and gawky, I often chose to let the world pass me by, rather than submit to the risks of engaging with it. But something’s changed over the last few years, and I’ve grown to absolutely love throwing myself headlong into anything which comes along – be it music festivals, snowboarding, shark-wrestling (okay, that one’s a theoretical “todo”) or upping sticks and moving to America.

Which is all a roundabout way of saying something long overdue (the last update here was pitifully long ago, when I was still in London.)

January 2005 was a strange month. Taken up with a lot of very dull “becoming official in the US” administrivia, it was also quite a lonely time. All my friends were in London, and besides a very few people, mostly at work, I didn’t know anyone much in the Bay Area. My social calendar was, shall we say, a little empty. I very clearly remember feeling a little aimless on weekends, driving alone around the South Bay, bewilderedly discovering it and spending too many evenings watching DVDs alone.

Returning “home” after 3 weeks at “home”, the contrast couldn’t have been greater. On my first day back in the office, Jake bounced up to me raving excitedly about the South By Southwest music festival. It sounded great, and took me all of 5 minutes to buy a $525 week-long pass and a return flight to Texas. That trip has just ended (I’m writing this on the hideously-delayed plane into San Jose), and it’s been an absolute blast which I’ll write more about as I sift through the photos this week.

Besides that, the past 2 months have been a ridiculous, life-affirming, heart-warming, grin-expanding muddle of people and places and things.

I’ve moved up to a lovely apartment in San Francisco (the other stream-of-boringness has more on that), been to all sorts of weird parties, felt an unborn baby’s kick for the first time in my life (no, not my baby!), made some new and utterly lovely friends and found myself god knows where at god knows when in the morning. I’ve seriously re-awakened my love for new, exciting, offbeat music, and rekindled my desire to actually learn how to properly play guitar, rather than half-heartedly bashing out the simple chords of “Kumbayah”, “Auld Lang Syne” and whatever other crap that comes in “beginning guitar” self-instruction books.

As if that wasn’t enough, during my weekdays I’ve done some of the best work (in my opinion) that I’ve managed in quite a while.

And, a goal I didn’t have time to complete last year, I’ve taken up snowboarding, heading up to the slopes a couple of times with Chris, Cheryl, Diana and Scott to slide around on snow whilst strapped to a big plank. And I love it more than I thought possible. Going with people more experienced than me has been a real bonus, because I feel compelled to keep up and constantly improve, which I seem to be doing in leaps and bounds. I hope to get up there again very soon.

And in the meantime, the rest of the whirlwind continues. Life really is incredibly good here, tempered only by the fact that there are so many people who I will always miss back in London (and yes, this is an unveiled hint for you bastards to book flights to SFO asap…)

What was daunting 12 months ago is now familiar. What was dormant in me is fiercely alive, and (on-slope or off), I think I’m finally learning to fly.

Like many of the best, most defining moments it was a complete accident of circumstance – the right place at the right time. I was lucky, and I’m thankful that I stumbled across an opportunity that I needed.

London will always have a very special place in my heart. It’s where I turned from a confused teenager into an adult. It’s where I first loved and first had my heart broken. It’s where I went truly, deeply mad; and where I healed and put my demons to rest and became whole again. It’s where I learned the true meaning of friendship, and hatred, and forgiveness. It moulded my habits (bad and good) and my attitudes (bad and good).

In short, I would not be who I am if it weren’t for London and the indescribably wonderful people that I was lucky enough to meet there.

But when I left it was because I was ready to leave. I’d been feeling trapped for over a year, worn down by the incredible rushedness of everything London; tired of walking out into the street and feeling bombarded by the perceived psychic soundtrack of everybody’s minds silently screaming “eeeeeee!” as they scurried from place to place; tired of my own mind silently screaming “eeeeeee!”

I missed seeing the horizon and the sky as an overarching dome. I missed quiet, contemplative time. I missed an indefinable part of myself.

For a while before I finally left I’d toyed with the idea of moving somewhere a little less fraught; somewhere down in the West Country maybe. But if you work in the British tech industry (particularly the web side of it) then everything focusses on London. There are a vanishingly small handful of companies who work elsewhere, and even fewer worthwhile jobs with them. It felt like a trap.

And then the offer of work in Sunnyvale dropped into my lap, and I took it.

I’ve put off writing anything about this for the best part of a month now, because my feelings regarding concepts of “home” as relates to London and California are a giant, tangled mess of half-formed emotions and ideas.

I wanted to do the experience of going home to the UK for the first time some justice by exploring it in a nice, logical way but I’m finding it impossible because I can’t unjumble the overarching complexity of it all.

It was deeply lovely to spend some time with some of the best friends I’ve ever had, and to spend time with my family again. And whilst London couldn’t quite feel like “home” (simply because I was sleeping in borrowed beds or on borrowed floors), it was nice to wander those old familiar streets again for a short while.

But I’m not ready to move back to London, and I’m not sure I ever will be. I still perceive that “eeeeeee!” soundtrack; still feel that pressure.

I suspect that if I somehow spend 8 years living in the Bay Area I’ll get to the point where I perceive a similar negative psychic soundtrack; I’ll get annoyed at the SUVs and the foggy San Francisco Junes, the encroaching Christian fundamentalism of America and the studied, slightly fake hippyism of Northern California. But for now it’s still shiny and new and different and it gives me the headspace I need to just be, well, me.

Ultimately, it doesn’t even matter. I realised tonight that I used to define myself by place (“a Londoner”) and now I no longer do. I was looking at two photosets (here and here), one taken in London and the other five days later in San Francisco. Both capture evenings which hold a lot of fond memories. Both include people who I feel very lucky to count as friends.

The only common link between the places and the people is me, but somehow I know that it wouldn’t matter if the Californians were drinking with me in London, or the Londoners in California; or if we were all in Beunos Aires enjoying carnival. What matters is the bonds I have with the people I care about, and the way I live my life, not where I am at any given moment.

I’m still a Londoner in London; fast becoming something of a Californian in California. I’m still a Brit, but I’m probably slightly more American than I used to be. Yet none of those labels and concepts are important.

I’m happy with my life; happy with who I am and who I’m continuing to become, and happy that California affords a perfect backdrop for me to carry on that progression.

So here we are. Happy New Year. I can’t wait to see what accidents of circumstance it brings.

So here I am, 348 days after I first arrived dazed and jetlagged at SFO, about to head back to London for the first time in nearly a year.

Blimey.

I realised, as soon as I was offered a job in Sunnyvale, that I couldn’t possibly turn it down. It’s the kind of opportunity which comes once in a lifetime, and you have to seize those opportunities. I knew that if I took it and didn’t like it I could head back home any time. On the other hand, if I turned the offer down and stayed in London it would be a “what if?” moment for the rest of my life.

I don’t like “what if?” moments.

Now it’s almost a year later, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve fallen in love with the Bay Area. It’s a surprise – I thought that I’d probably adjust to living here, but I really didn’t expect to develop a real affection for the place.

In part, it’s due to the weirdly compressed but beautifully exhuberant atmosphere of San Francisco. In part, it’s due to the really fantastic friends I’ve made here this year; people who’ve helped to turn northern California from a ‘place to be’into a home. And in part it’s due to being slap-bang in the centre of the most exciting place in the technology industry right now (and I mean both the Bay Area and Yahoo! specifically).

None of which is to say that I still don’t miss my favourite old nooks and crannies of London, or the staggeringly wonderful friends who I have there. I do, a lot.

Which, perhaps unfortunately, means that I’m doomed (as anyone who moves serious distances is) to always be a little torn; to always wistfully miss things about whichever much-loved place is thousands of miles away.

Anyone caught up in the current Bay Area Geek Import Frenzy would be wise to consider this; it’s probably the hardest long-term effect of such a move.

And now, about to head back, I can’t wait to see London; particularly my friends and family. But I know I’m gonna miss California while I’m gone, and in knowing that, I know something else: I want to be here for a while yet (sorry, mum).

I also feel a little apprehensive. I remember all too well how many little things seemed strange when I first arrived in America. And I don’t like the thought that, now I’m utterly used to all those little things (the layout of roadsigns, air conditioning, the way ATMs work, the size of the average car), the UK is going to seem conversely strange on my return. I don’t like the thought of being weirded out by the country of my birth.

But we’ll get to that by the by, when I land at Heathrow in a couple of days’time.

First, there’s something else to come to terms with; a slight helplessness. I no longer have an answer to the question “where will you be five years from now?” Perhaps I’ll be back in London, or perhaps I’ll still be in California. I have no way of knowing what I’ll want or what I’ll do, and ultimately my fate will probably be decided by the unknowable tides of my lovelife, my career, and immigration paperwork.

In the meantime, I’m left here with my transatlantic heart; half London, half California; waiting for the next welcome surprise that life has to spring on me.

That’s not to denigrate the advice which everyone else gave me – I had tons of useful hints and ideas, particularly from folks like Candace, who lived in the Bay Area for several years. But a single point that Danny made really lodged in my brain, and has probably been the single biggest thought that I’ve returned to since I arrived here in January. It’s advice which any expat, moving anywhere, should probably take to heart.

I ran into Danny completely by chance at a “Hacker Dim Sum” lunch at Yank Sing in San Francisco, in the middle of a two-week trip to the corporate mother-ship in Sunnyvale. The company had made a tentative offer of a job in California just two days earlier, and I was still trying to wrap my head around the idea.

I’ll have to paraphrase his words – it was fifteen months ago. But approximately, this was his advice:

You’ve got two choices if you move out to California. You can become one of those slightly strange expat Brits who complains about the sun and whines about how they can’t get Baked Beans or Marmite. Or, you can go native and live as a Californian.

Over the past year, I’ve met just a handful of British people who live in California and have unfortunately become weird caricatures of colonial expats. There are several key indicators – they dress overly formally (moreso than they would in England, I suspect) and they have the most bizarre, stereotypical “Hollywood version of British” accents I’ve ever heard. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least to learn that they drink Gin and Tonic on the verandah of an evening and polish their elephant guns whilst the sun goes down.

I have made a solemn vow never to become one of those people.

I like to think that, like Danny, I’ve done a reasonable job of “going native”. For one thing, I’ve learned to speak so that people can understand me – I ask for “toe-may-doe” on my sandwiches now.

Just this morning I absolutely reveled in the fact that I could drive off for something to eat in a t-shirt and shorts with the roof of the Jeep down. In late October! The excitement of that will probably die down in a year or two, but… hell yes! I love California!

I eat more Mexican and Sushi, and whilst I look forward to a good curry when next in London, I don’t mourn its relative scarcity over here. Friends occasionally bring me Baked Beans, Colman’s Mustard, Marmite or Bourneville chocolate when they visit, and I’m highly grateful – they’re little pieces of home that I grew up with and am still deeply fond of. But I don’t get into a depressive funk if I can’t have them.

Perhaps the key place where I’ve become more “native” and less expat is politics. Really, I shouldn’t care a jot about US politics – I can’t vote, so my direct participation in the process is almost non-existent. But the people and issues affect the place I currently call home, so whereas the ins and outs of Harriet Miers’Supreme Court nomination are barely a blip (if that) in the news at home, I follow the extensive US coverage avidly. Because these things matter. They’re ebbs and flows in the continual shaping of a nation where – who knows – I may want to make my home for years.

And the weird thing? None of this makes me feel any less proud of being British. I still get a little thrill when people tell me they love my accent (particularly the attractive women, but that’s obvious, isn’t it?) And I still write in British English unless, very occasionally, I subconsciously start switching the odd -ise for an -ize when writing to an exclusively American audience. And yes, I still care about the (currently lamentable) political situation back home.

I guess, although my official papers don’t reflect it yet, I’m a little bit Californian and a little bit American in addition to being British these days. No one of them cancels out the other – I just have to pledge my private alliegence to three flags instead of one…