“The world’s my home when I’m mobile.”

– The Who, ‘Going Mobile’

I’m writing this to you from a café in Kraków, Poland. It’s nighttime here; back in the States it’s mid-afternoon.

Everything feels just a little bit backwards. My parents are often just falling asleep at midnight when I’m waking up at six in the morning. Trams run on tracks above ground, unlike SEPTA, which rides the rails below Philadelphia. Obiad, the largest meal, is eaten at midday, contrary to more filling American dinners eaten later in the evening. Ice cream, or lody, seems to comprise more than half of Krakowians’ food pyramid,