Car (Ac)culture

To adjust to life in a new country, I had to kill my American dream.

Photo by Eric Michael on Unsplash

When my grandfather died, I was a very tiny baby. In the last picture ever taken of him, he is pale and thin, sitting in a stuffed armchair, holding the two-week-old me. No one was aware of it at the time, but the vehicle that would one day become my first car was in the garage outside.