The Art of Relocation
I remember the first time I went abroad. I was 13 years old and I was off to Northern Ireland with my best friend and her family for five weeks. I was sitting at O’hare airport in Chicago waiting to board my first transatlantic flight thinking, ‘wow, I’m really doing this!’ The next thing I remember, however, was going through passport control in Dublin and having a fairly intimidating immigration officer ask if I had a note from home allowing me to enter the country withou