Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution

Our family has been watching Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution on ABC. As he has done in his British shows, Oliver gave himself a mission to get people cooking and eating healthily. In this show, produced by Ryan Seacrest and Oliver, Jamie headed to Huntington, West Virginia, one of the most unhealthy places in the US, according to a recent report.

He took a multi-pronged approach to the task of getting Huntington to start eating healthily. He took over the kitchens in two schools. In an elementary school, he started by observing what the kids were being fed: pizza (for breakfast and lunch!), french fries, chicken nuggets, and so on. Changing the menu, he was met with considerable resistance by the cook in charge of the kitchen, although other cooks were more supportive. He also got out into the classrooms, and was horrified that the children couldn't identify even the most common vegetables. A second visit yielded much better results, after a teacher took it upon herself to teach the kids about vegetables. One revealing segment showed Jamie in front of a group of children, cutting off and discarding the "good bits" of a chicken, then throwing the leftover carcass into a blender, before grinding it down and forming and cooking chicken nuggets with it. In Britain, kids had been disgusted; here, the kids, pulled faces while the preparation was taking place, but were quite happy to eat the resulting nuggets.

In a high school, he took a different approach, getting a group of students to work with him. One girl had lost her Stepfather to obesity-related heart disease. Another girl had had been told that she might not live more than seven years, unless she radically changed her diet. One boy had anger-management issues and had been in trouble a lot. Jamie and the kids took over a local restaurant for an evening, and invited the kids' parents and various local dignitaries. They thought Oliver would be cooking, but he had taught the children, and they cooked. He brought the kids out at the end of the evening to let them tell their own stories. Jamie also took over the high school kitchen, where he met with some challenges due to the USDA guidelines for school meals. While his stir-fried noodle dish containing seven vegetables did not meet the requirements, a chicken patty in a bun with french fries, and the option of a salad (the kids were steadfastly ignoring that option) did so easily. Oliver argued that the guidelines encourage the use of processed rather than healthy food for kids.

Jamie has also been working with individuals and families, teaching them to cook simple, nutritious meals from fresh ingredients. He set up a store, "Jamie's Kitchen" where the public could get free cooking lessons. A local radio DJ who started off as a very vocal opponent of Oliver, was gradually won over. Jamie bet the DJ he could get a thousand people through his kitchen learning to cook during the course of one week. The DJ was the thousandth and lost the bet.

Although the show seems a little more scripted, and more manipulative than the British equivalents, people seem to have become very emotional about it, and there has been quite a lot of discussion on Twitter, Facebook and various blogs. Will it succeed in its goal? I think that if it makes a few people want to do something about their unhealthy lifestyle, it will have helped.

Have you seen the show? What do you think?

Behind You! - A Guest Post by Becky Gudgin

During our recent trip to England, we went to a theatre in Wales to see a Pantomime, that most British of theatrical events. I was going to write about it here, but then I was struck by the thought that it might be even better to get a genuine American's interpretation of the spectacle. Now, where can I get one of those? Oh, that's right, I'm married to a genuine American!

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I’ve been asked to explain British pantomime. I am not British. My husband is. But we both recently went to our first panto, Sleeping Beauty, in Swansea, Wales.

A British panto is the retelling of a classic fairytale in musical form. The lead players are usually well-known actors from TV, stage, etc. Some of the lesser characters are brought in or well known local actors. The ensemble consists of kids and adults who are local actors/theatre students. Audience participation, in the form of "boo", "yay", "awwww", etc., is encouraged. There is often a good and/or bad fairy, a simpleminded comedian who interacts with the kids in the audience and a "dame"- a guy dressed in bad drag. There is a lot of innuendo meant to go over the heads of the kids and entertain the adults, much of which comes from the dame. There are local jokes and references to the main actors' best-known roles.

This play had Sleeping Beauty, her father the King, the Prince, Silly Billy (the simpleminded comedian), a dame (Nurse Nelly), a good fairy (yay!) and fairy “Bodybag” (boo!!!). The Prince and Sleeping Beauty played the story straightforwardly. Everyone else went back and forth between moving the story along and just goofing around - improvising and entertaining the audience while the set was being changed, etc. The first act was fairly close to the plot of the fairytale. It began with Sleeping Beauty being born and the fairies lining up to give her gifts. Bodybag was not invited and thus cursed the baby to prick her finger on a spinning wheel and die before her eighteenth birthday. It ended with Sleeping Beauty pricking her finger on a spinning wheel despite the best efforts of the Prince and the King.

At some point the audience was thrown sweets (candy) and squirted with water guns. (My daughter was sorely disappointed not to get wet.) Nurse Nelly meanwhile, picked out some hapless guy from the audience and flirted with him shamelessly from the stage for the whole show. A somewhat traditional scene had Billy and Nurse Nelly baking. They were making "toad in the hole" - a British dish with sausages hidden in a kind of bready batter. Aside from the sausage innuendos, there was flour flying in Billy's face and smoke from the oven that prompted the audience to obligingly shout "Look behind you!"

The second act was a departure from the fairytale. Of course the good fairy had changed the curse from death to a sleep of 100 years. How was the Prince going to live 100 years to awaken her? She sent him flying thru time! The flying scene was fantastic with wonderful special effects. I leaned over to my daughter and said "[The Prince] is flying". She condescendingly whispered back to me that he was just on strings.

When the Prince landed, he went to Sleeping Beauty and awakened her. But Bodybag was not done. I am afraid to tell you what happened next! Being a huge fan of the actor who played the Prince, I was prepared to storm the stage but I held myself back. The bad fairy tried to steal the Prince! She hypnotized him and tried to get him to marry her! (Boo!!! Hiss!!!!) Sleeping Beauty showed up just in time and he was saved by the power of love. (Awwwww!!!!) Then Bodybag turned into DRAGON Bodybag and tried to stop them. The swashbuckling hero fought the dragon and eventually killed it. The closing scene with plenty of singing and dancing was Sleeping Beauty’s eighteenth birthday party combined with her wedding.

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Space didn't allow Becky to include all the Pantomime traditions we were treated to. Wikipedia has an excellent description of Pantomime, and how it works, if you want to find out more. And of course, we welcome your comments and questions.

An Apology

Just before Christmas 2008, I felt inspired to create a blog describing my experiences as an Englishman living in the US. I expanded upon that idea to include all kinds of topics I felt might be of interest to Brits in the US, Americans in the UK, Anglophiles, Americophiles and anyone interested in the crossing of cultures. I committed myself to trying to spend a little time every day writing, editing, researching for, or promoting my little blog. I believe I did quite well, receiving some wonderful comments of support and quite a few readers along the way. To those people, I apologize for my extended absence.

In September 2009, my daughter started school. One would think this might result in me having extra free time to devote to An Englishman in New Jersey, and I did think that myself. However, it resulted in me taking on more commitments, which in turn meant I actually had less free time available. My blogging therefore came to a grinding halt.

That brings me to today, a little over a year after I launched my blog. Energized by a recent trip back to England, and with plenty of experiences to share, I want to start things off again. I believe I can devote the time necessary to do that, if you're willing to sit next to me at the bar and listen to me ramble on once more...

Love and Dancing

I have written here before of my love of American folk music and acoustic singer-songwriters, but I do not think I have mentioned my secret weakness for 1980s synthpop. I consider it secret because my Wife hates it, so I usually end up playing it when she is not around. Fortunately, my five-year-old daughter seems to like it too, and we are often to be found bopping in the kitchen to Erasure, The Human League, Yazoo (known as Yaz in the US), OMD, Depeche Mode or The Thompson Twins.

As a late-adopter of CDs, I have a huge collection of vinyl records at my parents' house in England, left there because of the expense and difficulty in getting them over to the US. Among the collection is an album from 1982 called Love and Dancing, which is billed as being by "The League Unlimited Orchestra." I recently obtained a copy of the album, which was always very dear to my heart, and it has made me insanely happy.

Love and Dancing is essentially an album of dance remixes of tracks from the influential Dare album, which was made in 1981 by the Sheffield band, The Human League. It was one of the very first remix albums, a producer project, and as such was groundbreaking. Martin Rushent, the producer of Dare, put it together the hard way, by cutting up tapes. Rushent is now 61 and back producing after retiring from the business.

Listening again to this album after so long instantly transported me back to the eighties. I fondly remember a street performer in London's Covent Garden doing a fantastic but hilarious robotic dance to tracks from the album. Its stuttering style was perfect for the purpose. I have been playing it rather a lot just recently, so it is a good job my daughter likes it. My Wife does not, and when I asked my Brother in England what he thought of it, he said that he always preferred the original. So, perhaps I am pretty much on my own. I did ask on Twitter and Facebook if anyone remembered it and one friend in England (Hi Paul!) said he does have the album and likes it.

Getting this album has prompted me to get the rest of The Human League's albums (some of which I had on vinyl in England). It has also got me catching up with some of my other favorite artists of that period. It has even got me checking out web-resources about old synthesizers (I used to play synths myself in the eighties). I think you could say this was an influential album for me.

If you have any interest in Love and Dancing or The Human League, I discovered that a cool CD containing both Dare and Love and Dancing was released in 2002. That is a bargain!

Do you have favorite music from your past that instantly conjures up a particular period in time for you? Please do share by making a comment.

I Might Still Be in Luton If Not For the Web

Some of my American friends, knowing that I do so much on the Internet, think that I must use it to keep in touch with friends and family in England. The truth is, with the exception of my Brother, who got his first computer just a month or two back, very few of them have access to the Internet. Or if they do, they rarely use it. So, having been online since before the widespread use of the World Wide Web (I was around in the days of online Bulletin Board Systems), I've been a bit of a pioneer.


As I've written elsewhere, I met my American Wife (while I was living in my home town of Luton, England) through a mutual love of American folk music. We were both on a discussion group for singer-songwriter Dar Williams, when she e-mailed me about something I said on the group. A friendship grew over the Internet, which turned into love.


When we married, I moved here, and while I was waiting for a work permit, I took an online course to keep my computer skills up to date. A chance e-mail to my instructor led to him employing me. I've worked for the company for around ten years.


These days, I have made many friends through the Internet, on sites like Twitter and Facebook. Using e-mail, the Web and Social Media sites has helped me with my work for local nonprofit and community groups. Of course, it has enabled me to write my blog, which is a welcomed creative outlet. I'm grateful too, that I have a small group of faithful readers, scattered around the globe


As someone who has always been a little shy, I do believe that if it wasn't for the Internet, I might still be living in my home town of Luton.

An Englishman in San Diego - The Home Stretch

Once we had moved to the Sheraton Hotel and Marina for my Wife's conference, my daughter and I were alone during the day. I decided it was time to relax and not try to do quite so much each day. The first day (the seventh of our vacation), we had a lazy day at the hotel, watching TV, reading, playing and so on. We went down to the hotel lobby for a while, so I could take advantage of the free Wi-Fi there (it was $12 per day in the room, despite the entire marina area having a free Wi-Fi service, which the Sheraton blocked).

In the evening, once my Wife had finished for the day, we headed out to San Diego's Old Town district. This historic area has lots of restaurants, many of them Mexican, and many interesting places to see, especially in its Old Town State Historic Park. The park contains period buildings, some in their original locations and some that were moved in. Old Town also contains The Whaley House, supposedly the most haunted house in the United States. We were in the area to soak up the atmosphere and eat Mexican food.

The next day (Tuesday), my daughter and I spent time at Balboa Park. This beautiful and expansive park contains 15 museums and many other attractions. Many of the buildings in the park were originally built as temporary structures for the 1915-1916 Panama-California Exposition, and have since been rebuilt. Upon arriving there, we discovered that the day you visit is extremely important, if you have specific things you want to see. I had heard about the narrow-gauge railway and the carousel, and hoped to take my daughter there, but upon arrival, I found that they were only open on Sundays. A local Mom I spotted there suggested that my daughter might enjoy The Reuben H. Fleet Science Center, so that is where we went next. This museum, with its many interactive exhibits, was a lot of fun, and I highly recommend it. After we ate lunch, we headed for the Marie Hitchcock Puppet Theater, which we discovered closed on Mondays and Tuesdays! Still, the park has a lot to offer and it is worth spending the entire day there.

My daughter and I spent the day before we were due to leave, relaxing in the marina area and the hotel. We had breakfast at Papanani's Deli at the marina, where we discovered the antidote to the hotel's expensive offerings. The food was delicious and the people were friendly. They put on children's TV for my daughter and I had unblocked access to the marina's free Wi-Fi!

In the evening, the family went down to Seaport Village for our final San Diego dinner, this time at Buster's Beach House & Longboard Bar. This fun bar and restaurant has a Hawaiian theme, and the food and beer are both great. I ate (and thoroughly recommend) the Pork Luau and Macadamia Nut-Crusted Chicken. I enjoyed Firehouse Pale Ale, brewed by firefighters who use the proceeds to support the widows and families of firefighters and to provide equipment to local firehouses.

That wonderful meal marked the end of our San Diego vacation. By six the next morning, we were reluctantly on our way to the airport, for the smooth and trouble-free flight back to New Jersey. Thank you San Diego, for making us feel so welcome.

I hope you have enjoyed this little series documenting the wonderful time we had in San Diego. Are you familiar with the area? Would you like to visit? Please do post comments or questions - I would love to hear from you.

An Englishman in San Diego - Birthday, Beasts, Burritos, Backstage and Beer

The fifth day of our San Diego vacation was also the day my four-year-old daughter turned five. This day was all about her. We spent the day at the world-renowned San Diego Zoo. I remember being excited to visit this zoo the last time we were here, because I had heard so much about it. I also remember being very slightly disappointed, perhaps because my expectations were set so high by what I had heard. San Diego has been at the forefront of many advances in zoology, such as breeding programs and animal enrichment (providing enclosures, items and activities to stimulate their minds and bodies). The facility itself seems just a little old-fashioned compared to some of the other zoos I have been to. Nevertheless, I do recommend a visit if you get a chance.

For my daughter's birthday dinner we went to Fred's Mexican Cafe in The Gaslamp Quarter. This area of San Diego, with its bars, restaurants and trendy shopping, is full of activity, especially during the evenings. Fred's Mexican Cafe is a lively bar and restaurant, offering Mexican favorites with a healthy California twist. It is also the place that my daughter, then two years old, first discovered a love for Mexican food. During our first visit here, I remember her asking our server for "Mexican Food" when asked what she would like to order. When pressed for what kind of Mexican food she would like, she got quite agitated, asking for "Mexican Food" again. We ordered for her that time. This time, there was no such confusion. My daughter confidently asked for a black bean and cheese burrito as we sat out on their front terrace, watching the world drift by. Fred's combination plates are a good way to sample a range of different Mexican items, and they have draft Dos Equis Ambar, which is always a good thing. The food is delicious and ideal for the budget-conscious.

That marked the last day of our stay at The Dana Hotel on Mission Bay. On Sunday, the sixth day of our vacation, we had to move hotels. First, we went to SeaWorld again, this time for a behind-the-scenes tour. We visited areas not usually seen by the public, including the medical facility and places where they rehabilitate sick, injured and orphaned animals. We saw pregnant dolphins, kept in quiet areas away from the public, and we saw birds such as flamingos and parrots, which have jobs as "animal ambassadors" for SeaWorld.

We went straight from SeaWorld to the Sheraton Hotel & Marina, where my wife's conference was being held. It is a lovely hotel, with luxurious rooms, and our room came with a balcony overlooking the marina. However, it is also on an artificial island (built on the by-product of dredging the shipping channel around the San Diego Coast), which means they have a captive audience for their overpriced restaurants and bars. Guests either pay inflated prices, or pay for a taxi to take them to a more reasonably priced location. While the bar offered a good selection of local brews on tap (I greatly enjoyed Stone Pale Ale), I was paying nearly twice as much for the pleasure than I was at our previous hotel.

An Englishman in San Diego - Ocean, Mountains, Desert...and Dessert

Our fourth day at San Diego was spent exploring many different terrains. An early start took us out to Point Loma, the home of the Cabrillo National Monument, Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery and various naval installations. We were there to explore the renowned tidepools. Hitting this place at around low tide (in our case, a little after 10am) revealed a rocky landscape, full of little pools, containing an abundance of small sea-life, such as crabs (including hermit crabs), limpets, barnacles, mussels and abalones. If you ever come here, bring waterproof shoes with a good grip. It is slippery!

California has many State parks. Two adjoining ones, Cuyamaca Rancho and Anza Borrego, were next on our itinerary. Cuyamaca Rancho is very mountainous. When we went, we did not see much evidence of wildlife, but mountain lions (pumas) have attacked hikers and bicyclists on trails in the area.

Right next door to Cuyamaco Rancho is Anza Borrego National Park, and even without the signs, it is easy to spot where it begins. The terrain becomes more sparse with flat plains among the mountains and various cacti dotted around. It is a desert, but at this time of year, and after plenty of rain, the area looks more green and lush.

I was talking on-line a while back to a work-colleague of mine, who used to live in San Diego, and asked her about places I might visit with my family. After I told her that we were considering visiting Cuyamaca Rancho and Anza Borrego on one of our days here, she recommended that we stop for lunch at Julian, a small town in the area. She said that we must try the apple pie there. On our way, we stopped at a small antique market just outside of Julian, and after we had looked around for a while, the proprietor struck up a bit of a conversation with us. We mentioned to her that a friend recommended that we try apple pie in Julian, and we asked her where she would recommend trying it. She recommended The Julian Pie Company.

Julian is a small town, with lots of little shops along the main street, many of them catering to tourists. You can take a horse-drawn carriage drive up and down the street. In addition, of course, there is pie! The place has a nickname of "Pie Town." Although we did not try pie anywhere else, The Julian Pie Company must be at least one of the best places to sample this quintessential American food. Unlike many other places designed to accommodate tourists, this place offers great food at great value. We had a sandwich, potato chips, drink and a honking big slice of delicious pie for just under $8 each and sat out on the front deck watching the world go by. This family-owned and run business even grows their own apples!

Before setting out on our vacation, my Wife had discovered that an old friend had moved with her family to San Diego. Up until early evening, we had planned to visit them for dinner after our day out. Unfortunately, we felt the effects of the swine flu panic again. There was a confirmed case at the school one of their daughters attended and it was immediately closed. The school advised that contact with others should be limited until after the incubation period had passed, so we had to call off our dinner plans and eat alone.

An Englishman in San Diego - Football and Beer

The family and I are currently vacationing in San Diego, California. My Wife was due to attend a conference here, so we decided to extend the trip and make a vacation (or a holiday, for the benefit of my British friends) of it.

One thing that may surprise some is how long it takes to get from one side of the USA to the other. We live on the East coast (New Jersey), and San Diego is on the West coast in California. It takes almost as long to fly from Newark Airport, New Jersey to San Diego, California (about 6 hours) as it takes to fly from New Jersey to London (about 7 hours).

There is also a three hour time difference, so while we arrived at our hotel at about 6pm local time, it felt like 9pm to us, so we were feeling pretty tired and hungry. The first thing we did was head for the hotel’s bar and grill, known as The Firefly.

I have written before about some of the responses I get when people hear my English accent. I got a rare one at The Firefly. The greeter, a small Mexican man, sat us at our table and after a bit of small talk while he was making us comfortable, turned to me and asked if I liked football. I had assumed he was talking about American football (which I generally refer to as “rugby for wimps” due to the wearing of all that body-armor), and thought he was going to offer to change the channel on the television to some big game. However, he had noticed my English accent, and was asking me whether I followed what they generally refer to here as soccer. I hated to disappoint the poor chap who, it turned out, was a big Manchester United supporter, but I have never really cared much for that game either. I figured that he probably did not get many opportunities to talk about British soccer with a real live Brit, so I tried my best to fake it a little. He seemed satisfied when I told him my home team was Luton Town, a team that once was moderately successful, but who I believe have not done that well in the years I have been in the US.

If this Englishman knows embarrassingly little about football, I do know a good pint when I taste it, and I was not disappointed with the selection of beers on tap. The Firefly prides itself on offering a good range of beers from local microbreweries, small independent companies handcrafting their own brews. If you are ever out here, I thoroughly recommend Red Trolley Ale, a red ale that I would describe as “hoppy and hearty.”

Interview With an Englishman

In a recent post, I mentioned that I'd been interviewed for Cindy's Country Corner, a blog I often enjoy reading. Cindy has now posted the interview on her blog. She's a former newspaper editor, and her experience shows, since she managed to ask me a great set of questions that prompted me to share quite a bit.

Read the interview here.

A Community Within a Community - Carmen's Story

I met Carmen Villadar (@digitalfemme) on Twitter a while back, when we had an impromptu brainstorming session about business start-ups in the current economic climate. It was enough to convince me that we have very similar views about many things. Then she very kindly offered to proofread my blog posts and offer comments before I published them. It's great to have a second opinion before I "go to press."

When I started wondering about how other people coped, living in a country other than the one in which they were brought up, Carmen was an obvious person from which to solicit an opinion. She was born in The Philippines, but immigrated to Canada when she was three. After spending her childhood and young adulthood in Toronto, she moved to Texas to pursue a career in nursing. She lived in Texas for eleven years.

Participating in Second Life, a popular online "virtual world," Carmen met a man from Frankfurt, Germany. Cutting a long story short, they fell in love, and Carmen moved to Frankfurt in 2007. Once she was able to get her work permit, she became a freelance business English trainer. She now works in Business development for a company that is seeking to expand into Europe.

I wondered whether she had become involved with local organizations as a way of trying to become part of her local community. Actually, Carmen has taken a slightly different path. While she has been able to meet her personal goals, it seems to me that she is not sure whether she has really succeeded in becoming part of her community yet.

Each time she has moved, it has been because of a personal connection she has made. When she moved to Texas, it was because a family member living there recommended it. Her move to Frankfurt came about because of "Second Life."

Carmen has made many of her connections online, via Social Networking sites like Facebook and Twitter. Her current job came about after a conversation on Twitter with an employee for the company and a Facebook chat with the CEO. Perhaps more importantly, these sites enable her to remain connected to friends from Toronto and Texas and to chat in English with friends around the world.

One of the biggest barriers to becoming completely comfortable in Frankfurt, where she currently lives, is not being fluent in German. What she has done to get around this is to build her own community, really a "community within a community." She has started a couple of networking groups in Frankfurt, Frankfurt Girl Geek Dinners, and Open Coffee Club Frankfurt. She feels safe within this microcommunity. Instead of breaking out into her locality, she invites people from outside to join her.

It occurs to me that Carmen could do what she is currently doing in Frankfurt in just about any part of the world. Could she be part of a new breed of "World-citizen," living in a world without borders?

I would love to hear your comments about Carmen's story. Perhaps I can persuade Carmen to stick around and answer any questions you have.

Adjusting To a New Community - Hannah's Story

A Guest Post by Hannah Katsman from A Mother in Israel.

I met Graham via Twitter and our mutual friend @leoraw from Here in Highland Park. On Twitter, Graham asked others to share the role that organizations play in cross-cultural adjustment. I offered to write about my experience immigrating to Israel from the U.S. with my husband and oldest child eighteen years ago.

Moving across the street takes a period of adjustment. Moving across cultures takes a lifetime. I went from being someone whom others consulted, to asking for help with the simplest tasks. When do the stores open? Where do I get a driver's license? How do I open a bag of milk?

Operating in a new language added another layer of difficulty. I spoke and read Hebrew. Yet I found I couldn't argue with the bank manager, or make small talk with the woman in the elevator. I could tell that the news was reporting on a sports game, but didn't catch which team won. Unless someone took pity on me, I had to ask for help or remain frustrated.

Besides my husband, who worked long hours, his aunt and uncle were the only people I knew in town. In the US I had many friends and could make new ones with confidence.Now I was an outsider, and forming new friendships took effort.Still, I made it a priority.

Humans want to feel needed, not needy. And the best way to feel needed is to become part of a community or group where you can contribute your time and skills to others. I was lucky to have a ready-made community that welcomed me.

A few days after I arrived a woman named Annie brought me to a talk at the local English-speaking chapter of a women's organization. The next time I was called about a program, I offered to make phone calls. It didn't take long for someone to invite me to join the chapter's committee where we organized meetings and fund-raisers, and had a great time. Annie and the women I met there are still my closest friends in Israel. They are my community and substitute family.

I reached another level of inclusion ten years later, after training to work as a volunteer breastfeeding counselor. Helping mothers allowed me to connect to women on a basic level and to overcome linguistic and cultural barriers. I remember when I ran into a native Israeli mother who had recently discussed her difficulties with me. She smiled warmly and held out her hand to take mine. At that moment I did not feel like an outsider.

I wish I could report that the warmth she shared remained with me until today. But after eighteen years the "Israeli" mentality can still drive me crazy. There are days I miss my family and old friends and wonder whether I will ever "belong." Then I remember that everyone feels misunderstood, displaced, or lonely at times. And I recall that through my role in local organizations I have made a difference (I hope) in the lives of others in my new, imperfect country. And that has made the difference for me.

Thank you, Graham, for giving me the chance to share my story.

You can read more about cultural adjustment, mothering, Israel and the Jewish community at my blog, A Mother in Israel. Or follow me on Twitter: @mominisrael

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For those who want to read more from Hannah, here are a few posts from her blog that I particularly recommend:

Cultural Differences

Interview: A Christian Mother in Israel

Your Daughter is Smart, But . . .

Between Two and Four

When Neglect is "Normal"

As always, I'd love to hear from you. I'll make sure that Hannah sees any comments you leave here for her. Also, I'd like to hear from others who are living in a country other than the one they were brought up in. I'm thinking of starting a little guest post and/or interview feature.

A New Jerseyan in England

I had a very interesting conversation via Twitter, the social networking site, over the weekend. I was talking with Debra Denton, known on Twitter as @debra47, an American woman married to an Englishman and living in England. In addition to us living in each other's countries (she also comes from New Jersey) and being married to a native, we have quite a few other things in common. She is also a blogger. Her blog is Power Pop Review. We both moved to another country to get married quite late in life. We also both met our spouses over the Internet because of a mutual love of music. As I have mentioned on this blog in the past, I met my Wife on the Internet discussion group for singer-songwriter Dar Williams. Debra met her husband on the now sadly defunct music site Audiogalaxy.

Our conversation began when a comment about wine evolved into a little conversation about single malt scotch, which I adore, but cannot really afford here in the US. Debra developed a taste after a tour of a whisky distillery a while back. What became the most interesting part of our conversation started when she asked me what I missed about England, apart from fish & chips and single malt scotch. I told her I missed my local pub. Of course, I might be missing it even if I was back in England. We talked about the alarming rate at which pubs in the UK are closing (at the time of writing, six pubs are closing each day). High beer prices and a recent ban on smoking in pubs seem to have resulted in most people deciding to stay at home. There they can smoke, drink cheap supermarket booze and watch their widescreen TVs.

Debra told me that what she misses most about New Jersey is being able to find a diner, with a huge, reasonably priced menu, open 24 hours a day. She believes that she is healthier since she moved to England, because she is able to walk much more than she was able to in New Jersey. Although my particular neighborhood is pretty walkable (I told her my family had walked to a new diner just the previous day, much to her surprise), much of New Jersey is not pedestrian-friendly. People get in their cars to drive a few blocks. On recent trips back to the US, Debra noticed that many "downtown" areas (town centres) have disappeared as large superstores appear on the outskirts of towns, pretty much sucking the heart out of them.

In my adopted hometown, Edison, New Jersey, many people work elsewhere, and only come back to Edison to sleep. With their long hours, there is no time to get involved in things going on locally. This is happening in the US and in the UK. Debra suggested that perhaps this lack of community is what has drawn both of us, along with many others, into Internet-based groups. I suggested that if more companies allowed their workers to telecommute when practical, it might help restore local communities because people would be around much more, and it would help the environment. Many employers fear that if they are not standing over their workers, they will waste time. However, I have found that telecommuting, with its lack of physical distractions, often results in increased productivity.

We discovered that we were both regularly asked, "Do you prefer it over here or over there?" We have the same answer too: "There's good and bad in both." We can both honestly say that there are things we love and dislike about our countries of birth and our adopted homes. We are caught between two cultures and we get the best and the worst of each.

We also both get comments about how our accents have not changed. Debra is asked a lot if she is a Canadian. I wondered if that was perhaps because people hoped she was not American, because in the UK, Americans have often been tarred with the "Bush brush." Debra says that she has certainly experienced some anti-Americanism, but that it seems to be subsiding since the election of President Barack Obama.

I have invited Debra to write a guest post in this blog, and she has said that she would love to. I think it would make an interesting counterpoint to my own posts here.

Are you living in a country other than the one in which you were brought up? Perhaps you have a friend in this situation. Please do post a comment and share your observations.

Teaching and Tarot

I work part-time for an online education company. One great thing about this is the commute! I work from home, at the kitchen table. This also allows me to stay home to look after my four-year-old daughter. The worst part of my job is having to work around my daughter. I end up working early in the morning, before she's up, again while she's at preschool, which only gives me a couple of hours, then again while she takes a nap, if I'm lucky.

The company I work for offers short, concentrated courses on a variety of subjects. The course material is web-based, and then there are discussion areas, where students can ask questions and get help. My job is to monitor the discussion areas, answer questions, and encourage students to apply and expand upon the lesson material.

I do enjoy teaching. It is most rewarding to see that "lightbulb" moment when a student gets excited about learning a new concept and sees its potential. I mostly work in an introductory Microsoft Access course, but also assist with Microsoft Excel and web design courses.

I previously worked for many years in IT, and I would say that this is the most enjoyable job I have had. I walked into it quite by chance when I first moved into the US about ten years ago, and was waiting for a work permit. I figured I should update my skills and signed on for a couple of online courses. I evidently impressed the founder of the company, who was my instructor at the time, and he invited me to join the faculty.

Just for something completely different, I also offer tarot card readings by e-mail. I have been reading tarot cards since my teens, but I only turned professional a year or two ago, after being persuaded by others that my readings were very good. I have a policy that is very unusual these days; I invite people to pay me what they think the reading was worth to them, within their means. I believe tarot to be a great tool for empowering others, and I get a great deal of satisfaction from helping people. I don't feel comfortable denying anyone the benefits that a reading can give, simply because they don't earn much money.

Ten Years

Today is my tenth wedding anniversary. Sometimes it seems like I have been married forever, and other times it seems like yesterday. It is true that many things have happened during the past ten years, and I hate to admit that many have slipped out of my sieve-like mind. However, my parents' fiftieth anniversary is coming up later this month. I can only imagine the things that they have experienced and forgotten.

As I described in one of my first blog entries, the date we were to get married was largely down to what was then known as the INS (Immigration and Naturalization Service), what is now USCIS (US Citizenship and Immigration Services). I was in England and B. was here in New Jersey. We had no idea how long it would be before the INS approved our Fiance Visa, but we knew that we only had 90 days following approval to get married. We got our approval in December 1998, slightly earlier than we had expected, which meant that with the holiday season just around the corner, I had to make travel arrangements, and we had to plan a wedding.

Fortunately, B. and I had similar ideas for what we wanted from a wedding. We did want an occasion, rather than a simple official marriage. However, we wanted a wedding we could enjoy ourselves. We had heard all too often about couples who had big weddings and who had not enjoyed the day themselves, because the event was geared towards other people.

We agreed on the venue we wanted. The Palmyra Tea Room in Bound Brook, New Jersey, was a great place that we used to visit together. It had a wonderful Bohemian feel to it, with mismatched chairs, tables and china. It had an adjoining art-gallery, lots of books, tasty food and great people. Fortunately, although they had never done a wedding there before, they agreed to do it for us. We were to have the wedding in the art-gallery, and then we would move into the tea room itself for the reception. They would close for the day and provide the food.

The other preparations seem to have disappeared in a blur from my memory, but one thing that we were proud of was that B. and a friend actually made their own paper for the invitations. Since both B. and her Mother suffer badly from allergies to many flowers, we were to have artificial ones, and again, B. and a friend made the arrangements.

I do not have a large or particularly close extended family, and my parents don't fly, so my Brother was to be the sole family representative - and my best man. On the other hand, B. does have a large, close family, so the Brits were a little outnumbered. Fortunately, B's family are a lot of fun, and a rehearsal dinner ended up with most of us sitting underneath the tables, playing with kids. My stag night consisted of My Brother, a friend and I at our house with a bottle of Power's Irish whiskey. It was more fun than you might imagine, and we even managed to break some furniture!

The wedding itself, as planned, was a lot of fun, even for us. We had friends there who we had met on the internet-based music community where B. and I first met, so that did balance out B's huge family a little. One of them acted as DJ for the ceremony and reception, so the day was filled with the music we loved. The local Mayor presided over the ceremony, we drank "champagne" from a local winery, and a singer-songwriter friend performed for us.

The one sad part of the whole thing is that The Palmyra Tea Room is no more. It fell victim to Hurricane Floyd in 1999, when much of Bound Brook was completely submerged. Because of the huge cost of repairs, and apparent disputes with the landlord over responsibility for those repairs, it never reopened its doors.

One day, I'll write about our honeymoon, because, like our wedding, it was a little unusual, but so "us." For now, I want to take this opportunity to wish my dear Wife a happy anniversary. The first song to play after our wedding was "Love is the Ride" by Lucy Kaplansky. And it has been a ride. Sometimes, a joy-ride, sometimes a little bit of a white-knuckle ride. But I could not imagine sharing it with anyone else.

Be Mine, Valentine!

On this St. Valentine's Day, I wanted to outline the main differences between Valentine's Day in Britain and in the US.

In Britain, the tradition is to send Valentine's cards anonymously to the person or people in whom you are interested. I have since found out that the probable origin of this is a Lancashire tradition, which actually may go back to Roman times. Apparently, eligible young men and women put cards with their names on into two separate piles, and each girl and boy took a card at random. Each person made their own subsequent arrangements, having a choice of two options.

When I moved to the US, I was surprised to find out that people sign their Valentine's cards. Not only that, but it is customary for children to bring tiny little cards (and sometimes candy) to school for every child in class. I clearly remember the difficulty of trying to sneak a card into the locker or bag of girls I "fancied" at school.

My Wife has indulged me in my preference for anonymous cards.

Talking of indulgence, I wanted to hijack this blog post for personal reasons. If it all proves too much, I recommend the Wikipedia article on Valentine's Day.

Firstly a cute story: My four year old daughter went to her dance class this week, and one of the little girls in her class had brought Valentine's cards and gifts for everyone. Not knowing who would be there, her Mother had written who they were from, but had not written the names of any of the intended recipients. She handed a bag of them to the teacher to hand out. Each time my daughter (who is an excellent reader) was given a Valentine, she tried to give it to the girl the card was from. She thought it had been given to her by mistake.

Last, but certainly not least, I have been sick for the last few days, and it has rather limited my plans as far as Valentine's cards or gifts are concerned. Therefore, I am taking advantage of this very public channel to wish my Wife B. a Happy Valentine's Day. I think it's legitimate that I share it here, since she is the reason I moved to the US in the first place, and she continues to be my inspiration.

With All My Love

From

Your Biggest Admirer

Library Love

When I first moved to the USA, I did not yet have a work-permit (it would take a few months to be approved), and I was worried about becoming bored being home all day, while my then fiancee was at work. I desperately did not want to be vegging out in front of daytime TV. I was not driving at that time (for the reason why, please see my entry: Cops, Cars and a Cuppa - my first visit to the US (part 2)), so there was a limit to where I could get. I discovered that my nearest public library was within walking distance, so the first thing I did on my very first day by myself in the US was to visit my local branch, apply for a library card and look around.

Not being used to the way these types of organizations work in the US, it was a little confusing at first, especially as the first librarian I encountered was a little less than helpful. Fortunately, I got through the ordeal, and before long, I was the proud carrier of my first US library card.

Although I've been a book lover all my life, I didn't spend a lot of time in public libraries in England, with the exception of the mobile library (bookmobile) that I spent a lot of time in as a child. That was to change once I moved to Edison, New Jersey. I became so involved with my local library that I soon became an active member of my local Friends of the Library group, a nonprofit organization formed to support the activities of the library by supplementing the dwindling public funding they receive. I'm now proud to be the President of that group.

Libraries can be a great source of information, education and entertainment for new US residents. English as a second language (ESL) classes, information about immigration procedures, help and resources for finding jobs, computers with Internet access, expert reference librarians, as well as programs, newspapers, books and movies are among typical library offerings. Our libraries are especially important in times of economic hardship, the very time when public funding is usually reduced. There was a great piece recently on the Diane Rehm radio show about this.

I was alarmed to read today about the imminent CPSIA laws, which looked set to prevent us from selling used children's books at our annual fundraising book sales. Fortunately, a public outcry to the ambiguously worded and poorly publicized laws resulted in a clarification by the U.S. Consumer Product Safety Commission, and it looks like it will not affect our sales after all. Still, there may be implications for libraries because new books do seem to be included in these regulations.

Waiting For The Other Ball To Drop

Anyone with family in a different time-zone will be familiar with my situation last night, New Year's Eve. I ended up celebrating New Year twice, firstly at 7pm Eastern Time, which is the equivalent of Midnight in England, then at Midnight Eastern Time. At 7pm I attempted to call my parents. International calls, especially using a calling card (which I use to reduce costs) can often be tricky at major holidays, because of the sheer volume of people attempting to call at the same time. My call was certainly a little confusing, because while I was attempting to call my Father, my Father was trying to call me. So, I got a busy tone (we call it "engaged" in England) and my Dad was leaving me a New Year message on my voicemail as I was trying to call back. Eventually I got through and my Dad picked up immediately, since he was right by the phone. Dad has sometimes been so sweet as to wait until 5am his time to call us to wish us Happy New Year also, but last night he said he was exhausted, so wouldn't be doing that.

Shortly after the call, I headed off to my computer to check on New Year stories from the BBC. I discovered that it had been very cold across Britain, but frozen revellers in many parts of the British Isles still went out to party. In London, there were fireworks, Elton John performing in the O2 Arena (formerly the Millennium Dome), and actor Michael Caine said that while he would usually wish for a "prosperous" New Year, "This year I think what we really need is luck, so good luck everybody."

Those of us Brits of a certain age will remember New Year's Eve on TV used to consist of Andy "Donald Where's Yer Troosers?" Stewart with a traditional Scottish Hogmanay show. The last time we were in England, I greatly enjoyed Jools Holland's "Hootenanny" New Year's Eve show. Not a kilt in sight.

Of course, here in the States, we have dear old "Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve." Dick Clark, who for years has hosted this live show watching the giant illuminated ball drop in New York's Times Square, had a stroke in 2004. Regaining his speech and movement somewhat, he's returned to the show, although his slurred speech does unfortunately give him the delivery of a drunkard, which I guess is somewhat appropriate for the occasion.

But I can't leave this subject without talking about The Ball. This huge illuminated orb, built from Waterford Crystal, has been redesigned using Light-Emitting-Diode technology designed by Philips to use 20% less electricity. Let's hear it for green technology! In fact, instead of turning the ball off once it's done its job, let's leave the ball illuminated all year round so that people can see how green we are! It's the American way.

Happy New Year!

The Full English Breakfast

I'm writing this entry early in the morning in a motel room in Pennsylvania, a little over halfway home from our Christmas trip to the Michigan in-laws. I'm munching on an apple, because I cannot abide having an empty stomach, but I'm craving the big breakfast I'll no doubt have once the rest of the family have woken up, showered and we look for somewhere to eat. There's coffee, bagels and muffins available in the lobby, but that's not going to cut it for me.

My vegetarian friends may now leave the room before I launch into the really offensive stuff.

What I'm really craving is meat. What I'm really craving is that beast known as the Full English Breakfast.

There are some excellent breakfast choices available in this part of the country. I'm rather partial to biscuits smothered in sausage gravy (a note for our British Friends - a biscuit is rather similar to a scone, perhaps a little fluffier, and sausage gravy is a thick, creamy sauce full of crumbled sausage). But the Americans, much as they seem to enjoy their meat, don't really get the British love of having more than one meat on your plate at the same time. See, the "F.E.B." usually contains bacon and sausage; in fact, for those hardcore fans amongst us, it should also include black pudding. For those who still are blissfully unaware of what black pudding is, it's a blood sausage. Very rich, very fatty, very unhealthy, and of course very tasty. But even when you find a selection of "fry-ups" listed on a menu, you can get eggs done in a multitude of ways, maybe biscuits, hash browns, etc., with bacon or sausage. Usually, if you want both sausage and bacon, you have to order one as part of your meal, and the other as a side.

So, what I really want (and will probably only get in the US if I make it myself) is one fried egg, over-easy (so the yoke is runny but the white is not slimy), bacon, sausage, black pudding, baked beans, fried tomato, fried bread and fried mushroom. Yep, heart-attack on a plate.

There are a few compromises that have to be made if you're craving the F.E.B. but living in the U.S. The bacon usually available here is sliced really thin and very fatty. It's really only good for crumbling into something for flavor. I generally go for sweet Italian sausages, but while good, they're not the same as a good British banger. Baked beans over here are generally over-sweet, and contain a lump of fatty pork; In the US, Heinz do "Vegetarian Baked Beans", which is about as close as you'll get to the beans that Heinz make for the Brits.

I'll probably write more about tea in another entry, but as a great British tea-drinker, at home I'd usually make myself a cuppa to drink with the fry-up. Tetley makes "British Blend" teabags which are pretty good. I would drink coffee if I was having breakfast at a restaurant, because most places can't make tea properly.

And, if consuming this in England, with egg-yoke running down our chins we'd probably be berating the Americans for being obese.

I'm perfectly aware that this artery-hardening breakfast is not exactly the healthy option. And I certainly would not eat it every morning. Probably not even once a week. But as a rare treat, it's precisely that - a rare treat!

So, in the interests of full-disclosure, I should also point out this article from the Times of London.

Christmas Controversies

Having enjoyed a wonderful Christmas at my Mother-in-Law's house in Michigan, with my Brother-in-Law's family as well as my Wife and Daughter, I felt the need to write a little about some of the differences between Christmas in the US and Christmas in the UK. I think it's important to state that I find there to be more similarities than differences, especially with my Wife's family, who go out of their way to embrace British traditions as a way of making me feel welcomed. In addition, I've discovered (as is often the case) that what I've been accepting as UK/US differences are often simply differences between families. More on that later.

I guess one of the biggest differences is that, generally speaking, the big guy with the red suit and white beard is referred to as Santa Claus in the US, while most of the time Brits refer to him as Father Christmas. My American family was eager to try the British tradition of Christmas Crackers, complete with awful jokes and paper hats we all had to wear for extra humiliation at the table. And the meal we had yesterday was a lovely joint of roast beef, while British Christmas dinner, again generally speaking, consists of turkey (Turkey usually being consumed in the US for Thanksgiving). In England, I'd also usually be eating Christmas Pudding, that gloriously fruity, alcoholic, heavy steamed sponge, and a slice of Christmas Cake, just to ensure that I was incapable of movement the rest of the day. And I'm writing this article on what in Britain we'd call Boxing Day, December 26th, traditionally the day that employers would give leftover gifts to their servants and employees. Yes, "re-gifting" is nothing new!

So, on to more controversial stuff. What do we leave Father Christmas/Santa Claus on Christmas Eve? In my house it was always a mince pie (a sweet pastry filled with what is called "mincemeat", which these days contains no meat), together with a glass of sherry and a carrot for the reindeer. My Wife's family believe that milk and cookies are the generally accepted gift in the US. But a rather unscientific poll I conducted showed some rather interesting results. One old schoolfriend from England was a little conflicted on the matter. Since drinking and driving is such a big issue, her family had started leaving out a cup of hot chocolate; however, another schoolfriend had advised her that Rudolph was now the one who drives, so Father Christmas will once more be finding a glass of brandy. And then there were three American friends of mine who in turn were leaving:

1. Freshly baked sugar and chocolate chip cookies and hot apple cider with spiced rum
2. Sierra Nevada Celebration Ale
3. Baileys Irish Cream

I'm not sure whether this says more about globalization, or my friends! I do know that my Mother-in-Law bought mince pies, sherry and a huge carrot, so we could do things the way I had always done them. My daughter was also delighted to discover that everything she'd left had gone on Christmas morning, apart from the last bite or two of the carrot; according to the note Santa left, the reindeer each took a bite, but it was so huge, they couldn't manage it all.