After living over 35% of my life in Thailand, I’m always reminded on my all-too-infrequent trips back to Canada how much I took for granted growing up. When I was a kid, I hated the town I lived in – “Ugh, I can’t wait to get out of this place!” we all used to say, like we were singing the chorus of a Springsteen song. But looking back with grace and age, it’s clear to me how idyllic my childhood really was – miles of green grass, flat sidewalks, bike lanes, and baseball diamonds. The bank tellers knew me by name. You could drive clear across town in 10 minutes. There may even have been a few pies cooling on a windowsill. But now that I have a son, the idyllic nature of my youth has become even clearer. I look at my boy sometimes and think to myself “What type of childhood are you going to have in this huge, chaotic, crowded city? How will it shape you?”
While casually skimming through the cesspool of insults and complaints that is T