It's funny how moving to another country gives you whole new perspective on things. Two events this week, not comparable in scale, scope and overall importance, but comparable in the fact that had I not lived in UK, I would care much less about them.

It now seems something you will be able to tell your grandchildren: "I have shopped at Woolworths!". It wasn't always a pleasant experience. Over the last two years, I have succesfully bought some spoons, cups and plates (that we still use, maybe in 50 years they'll be worth something on Antiques Roadshow ;). I have unsuccesfully tried to buy a bike, and it was quite obvious then that Woolworths is really rather useless for anything else than cheap cutlery and toys you'd more likely give to charity than your own kids.
Still, it's part of Britain's history, with 100 years of tradition and introducing the 'innovative' ways of shopping to post-victorian England. It's been slowly replaced by supermarkets and online shopping (and places that actually have things you want and deliver stuff to wherever you want), so it came as no surprise it wouldn't survive any major financial crisis.

The tragedy of Mumbai is, of course, relevant to everyone; but it's much more relevant when suddenly you realize it's not some strange, exotic country far far away. It's not Bali or Sudan or Congo - places you know exist, but unless you ever travelled on a safari tour, never really cared about. Suddenly, your company sends out e-mails to everyone, confirming that our call centre is safe. Suddenly, your coworkers phone their families at home, concerned. Suddenly, you get interested where exactly have your colleagues gone for holidays this time. This is not something we're used to back in the Old Country.