7/27 On the leg from AMS to GOT, a woman who is traveling with three kids, the youngest barely a toddler, and all of them cranky, points to my skin and asks where I’m from. She’s from Iraq, she says, before even waiting for my answer. I’m from Germany, I say, it still seems to be most appropriate answer.

My daughter calls the Upper West Side home. Her real home. That’s the main reason why I don’t want to move away from there, even though it’s ridiculously expensive and hard to justify otherwise. I don’t want to take this away from her. I want her to have a continuing presence there.