London

The other night I had a lovely conversation with a Persian gentleman (at Starbucks...very American of me, I know) about the Persian population in Los Angeles and found out that his sister lives in Claremont, where my dad grew up. Last Sunday I ate lunch next to a French couple - I read my book and tried not to listen in on their conversation (just to see how much I could actually understand). I've been stopped on several occassions by people needing directions to the nearest Tube station; and like a native, I always know where to send them. I even walked to the Tube with one of these enquirers, a Chinese gentleman who lives in the U.S. and was here visiting his daughter who is studying in London. Tonight I exchanged looks of silent understanding with a couple of Spanish girls as we listened to some rowdy Brits - no doubt football or rugby fans - singing inappropriate (yet hilarious) songs about underpants on the Tube. One late afternoon I was eating at a French restaurant called Le Pain Quotidien and the British couple next to me kept leaning over and asking what I had ordered; they promptly ordered the same thing and we talked about our plans for the evening - theirs: seeing an American comedian at the SouthBank Centre, and mine: seeing Love's Labour's Lost at the Globe. Last weekend I went walking in my neighborhood, discovering new streets and little paths, through the alleys of cobblestone with little doorways here and there and potted plants in the windows. I love this city for all of these little things and for so much more that I can't possible write it all down. I hope this begins to paint the picture of my life here - I'll leave the rest to your imaginations.