Of all airports that I know, the approach to JFK is the most interesting. Even though the traffic is routinely awful, I love crossing over the Verrazano Bridge, the way the road spirals down into Brooklyn, and then the 16 mile drive along the shores of Jamaica Bay, past scenes that often seem weirdly remote and un-urban.

I like the cosmopolitan mood at Terminal 1, which serves airlines from China, Japan, Korea, Greece, Turkey and other countries. Within a short distance I can hear my wife's language (Mandarin) spoken, as well as my mother's (Greek). Up a flight of stairs, there's a food court and big windows where you can sit and watch planes taxi-ing in and out. It reminds me of a past era when plane-watching was encouraged -- some airports even had outdoor terraces where you could study the planes through coin-op binoculars.

We've made the trip to and from JFK several times in the past four years, but we probably won't be doing it again -- there's a new direct service to Beijing from Dulles.

***

My mother-in-law has returned to China. I wonder what it's like to be there again after a year in suburban Maryland. Does she miss us or is she relieved to be back? I wouldn't characterize Yucheng, the birthplace of Mulan, as an easy place to live, but it's her town, with her friends, haunts and husband. And while suburban Maryland is comfortable, life here is in some ways absurd -- you have to drive to go anywhere. When Y. and I were at work, she was stuck in the house.

Heidi, who my mother-in-law cared for during the past year, didn't seem taken aback by her departure, or by the sudden transfer to daycare. When I arrived to pick her up, I expected a shocked child, but instead I was presented with a bubbly, excited one. Maybe it's not so surprising -- she's almost a year old, restless and impatient.

By contrast, Michael, who was frequently disrespectful to laolao and sometimes just plain mean, was very upset. He demanded that we produce his passport and buy him a plane ticket.