Odd how the way once percieves the simplest things alters when one is living in a different culture.
As I sit here, tapping this out on an old oak bartop in a New York bar, bottles of unfamiliar spitirts lined up opposite me, a beer on a triangular napkin beside the laptop and the Daytona 500 playing on Fox in the corner, I realise how as one becomes more familar with one culture one becomes less reliant on one's own - like cultural see-saw.
It can be disconcerting, and a little isolating. At times like this it's only natural to reach for the familar. One needs "earthing".
So, as it turns out, the ex-pat's best friend is not BBC World, it's remembering that "Starfish is a cunt".
Another pint of Cricket Hill East Coast Lager barkeep, I'm British.
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