What is a memory?

I am amazed at how things came back to me while overseas.

How things I didn't even know I'd remembered clanged with an "oh yeah" in my brain.

The recorded sometimes melodic sound of NY Rail's "Stand clear of the closing doors please" - the rush of the metro card holders through the turnstiles, the smell and sound of sidewalk hot dog vendors.

That hearing "have a nice day" doesn't annoy me like it does in my home country and that tipping becomes second nature. 


That you'll meet some of the nicest and some of the nastiest people.


That walking in New York City at night doesn't feel unsafe.

That I still can't work out the coins to make change.

That sometimes all you want is a plate of steamed vegetables.

That you'll never be able to count the number of taxis.

That sometimes it's good to get away and develop a different perspective on the world. And sometimes it's nice to come home to the status quo.