What the Hell are You Doing Here?

As this week marks my first month since arriving in the USA as one of its many hyphenated-citizens, the three hour train ride from Portland to Seattle seemed as good at opportunity as any to start reflecting on the central question that locals have been asking me, and I’ve in turn been asking myself, since I rocked up on these shores armed with only a set of kitchen knives, a t-shirt from the North Yorkshire Steam Railway, and a…