I'm sitting in a cafe in my home town (named by German immigrants 150 years ago after a similar town in Ohio), drinking espresso, listening to Brazilian music, and working on a paper with a French co-author. The French woman sitting in the cafe next to me (I can tell from her AZERTY keyboard) is drinking San Pellegrino. Outside, legions of Urbanites line the streets waiting for the annual parade, eating bratwurst and waving flags made in China.
Two months ago, I was sitting in a Czech café two blocks from our apartment in Berlin. My cappuccino came with a glass of water with this stamped on the bottom:

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