In the middle of reading Watching the English: The Hidden Rules of English Behavior, a recommended read from a teacher at school. In it a British anthropologist studies her country, from the incessant discussion of the weather, their insistence on Queue-ing up for everything-- until a few years ago there was a law requiring you to Queue for the bus-- and the class distinctions that divide not just England, but all of Britain.

Michael Lewis’ latest is an article on German Banking in Vanity Fair. The article discusses a number of issues including German Holocaust guilt (“If some Martian landed on the streets of Berlin knowing nothing of its history, he might wonder: who are these people called ‘the Jews’ and how did they come to run this place? But there are no Jews in Germany, or not many.”), and their obsession with potty humor and phrases. When he tries to characterize the Germans his well versed driver (and speaker of 7 languages) says there is no such thing as German national character, how can you generalize about 80 million people?

In Jews in a Whisper, a column by Roger Cohen in the New York Times he quotes a Philip Roth protagonist who says that in England the word Jew is mentioned with a little drop of the voice. This prompted a memory from Cohen who as a child sat in his home (right near where we live in St John’s Wood) and asked his mother why she whispers the word “Jew,” which she denies. “But she was — in that subliminal, awkward, half-apologetic way of many English Jews. My parents were South African immigrants. Their priority was assimilation. They were not about to change their name but nor were they about to rock the boat.”

And then after a long absence and return to London Cohen encountered a man who said, “Oh, you’ve got a JewBerry.” Huh? “Yeah, a JewBerry.” I asked him what he meant. “Well,” he shrugged, “BBM — BlackBerry Messenger.” I still didn’t get it. “You know, it’s free!”

“Jewish identity is an intricate subject and quest,” he says, questioning himself and others.

This all comes together for me as a Jew living in London at a business meeting in Munich.

The Virgin Atlantic flight is delayed and we sit looking at the kids as they read their magazines and play their games and we ask, How the Hell Did We Get Here?

The road to international expansion is one you have to want, no desire, because it is made difficult, even by the friendly countries. From school applications to the VISA process, you are confronted with a never ending list of documentation requirements that they seem to expect you to have on hand including such items as a Marriage Certificate, excess passport photos, teacher recommendations going back to Kindergarten and everything in triplicate. And on a Sunday. You feel like a contestant on “Let’s Make a Deal” where they’re trying to see what oddity you might be carrying. “If only I had that extra hard-boiled egg in my inside jacket pocket.”

But after completing this endurance test you realize that everyone who told you this is the best thing for your family doesn’t know any better than you how it’s all gonna turn out. But now you’re doing it and the kids are following their parents, but with a look of skepticism well beyond their years. A look I didn’t think we’d see until well into high school.