My eyes widened in anticipation from the moment I stepped foot on the west coast for the first time. The salt in the air touched the tip of my tongue. Sand and dead grass surrounded me. Mountains had vanished completely from the view of the plane. The relaxed wind soothed the eardrums. My skin became enveloped by uncharacteristic heat for that time of the year. I greeted this new and strange land with a smile. The night sky went from deep blue to a musky fog as the airplane moved through the clouds. The beauty of lit up stars did not matter, for this land had a beauty of its own. I had never been so far from everything I knew, yet I felt completely relaxed. I welcomed the sight of people of all races living together harmoniously, and I loved seeing a melting pot of people for the first time. I loved this land of tolerance where everything is accepted.

I came from a land where lush green and beautiful streams ran down the mountainside. People look at the unusual with skepticism. I live in an area of southern prejudice where a white man dating a black woman receives death glares. Old fashioned and stuck in the past. In California, I could go on a date with a woman of any creed without a disapproving glance. My quirky strangeness did not stand out in California as it did elsewhere. The question remains if California has always been keen to accept the unusual.

California in the 1980s remained the same. The land of tolerance earned its status throughout time. My brother said, “All the freaks end up in California and are accepted there." “You can dress like a fairy and dance around, definite culture shock.” I wondered if the strangeness went deeper than that in California. Then, I learned about Donut Boy. The festival marketplaces of California are something else, with a man on a psychedelic buzz wandering around with a donut stick. A stick impaled by several donuts and a salesman offering donuts to strangers dressed in his business suit of choice: pastries and saran wrap.

California remained everything I envisioned in my dreams of a vacation far away. My hotel overlooked the bustling traffic and the illuminating lights as car after car traveled towards the beach. The shiver that went down my spine upon entering the Pacific Ocean surprised me. It contrasted the warmth of the Atlantic. The ocean’s cold embrace quickly warmed. I saw couples of various ethnicities enjoying their day without ridicule. The captivating beauty of the museums could be a highlight. There are musical festivals, concerts featuring bands/singers that are well known, Hollywood Hills, the Lakers, exquisite food, the best cheap food, parades, Disney events, Disneyland, UCLA, and the mansions of La Habra Heights. All these great things, yet the difference in culture enthralled me the most.

I went to California expecting no culture shock. The lavish things did not faze me in the slightest. I did miss the beauty of a starry night and the blue sky that one can lose themselves in. However, the gains in California captivated me in many ways that more than made up for the loss of beauty. The beauty of tolerance I saw in California remains unmatched. This melting pot I saw made me happy as a person that likes to experience different things. I may be eccentric, different, a freak in my world, but in California, I am no different than anyone else. Everything is welcome in the land of tolerance.