Law, Partially

Ambitions to write entries in every city have crashed. Entries by region? Failed. As we wind down the first half of the trip and leave Italy for points west, maybe I can succeed in documenting our adventure by country. If India travelled to France, Italy would result. Just like India, Italy is even jammed onto the southside of a continent. And just like in India, we enjoyed our adventure, though some days we were dirty and tired of it, and just like in France, we ate very well and went to museums. In Florence I felt like I was in India, often walking in streets (few practical sidewalks), along with cars driven by the unsympathetic, breathing in exhaust fumes, amidst crumbling old buildings and throngs of people. India is of course more crowded, dirtier, and poorer, but sewer smells often linger in those medieval Italian city centers as they do in India's more crowded neighborhoods. Like in India, sometimes I'm amazed that Italy works at all. But it works, and it is a great ...

We had a good life in the Lower Holloway area of Islington. Bobby's nursery was very close, and many kids living in our building also attended. His best friend lived in the same building. There were many cafes, all of which knew how to make babycinos (ingredients consist of foamed milk and some chocolate powder), including one on the ground floor of our building. Some of the last few babycinos at the New Zealand-style cafe, Sacred, on the ground floor of our building; since the hamburger restaurant across the square closed, Sacred became a de facto hangout for the local gangs of small children. King's Cross was two stops away on the Piccadilly. This area north of the station was an old intermodal port, where goods could be transferred from train to ships on the Victoria Canal. The big brick building was grain storage but is now an art school with various restaurant chains on the ground floor. Next door are former coal storage buildings that now house a high-end s...

We are pretty much the stereotypical post-War American nuclear family. Except that we're of mixed races, and we don't live in the suburbs, or in the US at that. But Dad goes to work while Mum stays home with Babe. So let's just describe a bit the intersecting lives of our wholesome, transplanted, nuclear family. The FD Linges on Fleet Street, near to Dad's main worktime Starbucks. Notice St. Paul's in the background. It's funny, when I was younger I thought I could one day work on Fleet Street since it is the historical center of the UK publishing industry. I didn't make it here as a journalist, though. Mum's story Mum, the Tiger Mum, is working with Bobby on building his problem solving, motor skills, patience while reading books (he doesn't have much patience yet...), bilingualism, and generally following some lessons written by Montessori teachers. We have a small selection of toys for Bobby to play with. And generally a large part of hi...

The lessons of life abroad are found in the routine interstices of daily life. We’ve encountered challenges in setting up our life here but not because this place is so radically different; it’s because this place is so deceptively similar. There are a few things a middle-class family must do to get up and running in a new place: find a home, fill the apartment with the things needed for life, set up a checking account, get a local cell phone number, subscribe to a broadband Internet service provider. Luckily, we don’t require daycare or schooling for Bobby at the moment. We managed to find an apartment with the help of a real estate agent hired by my employer. Most of the apartments we saw were awkward in some way. In the end, we found one that’s acceptable, but we are surprised at how many fees and taxes accompany a rental property in the U.K. My wallet hurts. Ouch. Very annoying has been the extreme background checks we've had to go through, and the extreme disorganization...

At first glance, D.C. seems like it would be a very uncool place. We see images current and historic of white guys in suits, grandiose architecture, serious hand shakes, arcane arguments, wide streets, and emblems of a police state: black cars, tinted windows, officers in flak jackets. But my experiences there have always been much less staid, ranging from the rowdy (old days) to the gourmet (present days). I've been visiting friends in D.C. since I was in college. I always found D.C. to be a very young city. There are several universities in D.C., and many college graduates go there to work for government and government-related businesses. Young people are more fun. Now, when I visit D.C., what I notice is new investment. There are old fresh food markets made new again as prepared food halls, old industrial infrastructure turned into dining and entertainment destinations, and disused storefronts converted to pubs featuring existing fixtures (e.g., brick). There are shiny new b...