Two years in America

It’s almost 2026, which means I’ve been in the US for nearly two years now.

I thought I knew what to expect. America is always in the news… the ambition, the chaos, the scale of everything.

Turns out it’s what I didn’t expect that defined my time here.

A few weeks after we moved, I took my daughters to the park. Ice cream truck pulls up. I queue with them, excited to give them their first American ice cream truck experience. I get to the front and realize I’d left my phone at home, part of my “be more present” experiment backfiring spectacularly. No cash, no Apple Pay. I turn around to break the news and the guy behind me doesn’t hesitate. He buys ice cream for both of them and waves off my thanks.

Earlier this year, my third child was born in SF. Labor was fast, 60 minutes from “I think the baby’s coming” to the baby arriving. No time for an epidural and my wife was terrified. The nurses held her hand, called her “honey” more times than I ever have. When it was over, the doctor started chatting with me about AI while sewing her up. Tell me you’re in San Francisco without telling me you’re in San Francisco…

Yesterday I’m in Colorado, giving my kids their first real snow experience. I park at a dinosaur museum and somehow land the car directly on a sheet of ice. Reverse. Nothing. Wheels spinning. I step out, trying to figure out my options - family’s inside the museum. I hear footsteps. Some guy appears out of nowhere, tells me to get back in, he’ll push. I reverse, he pushes, the car backs out. I look up to thank him and he’s already jogging away.

From the outside, America looks like relentless ambition.

Up close, it’s the guy who buys your kids ice cream. The nurse who calls your wife honey. The stranger who pushes your car out of the ice and jogs off before you can thank him.

Turns out greatness and humanity can coexist. That’s defined America for me.

Happy 2026 everyone!