8 continents: part 5
Drunks, thieves, and witches: These are the people with whom I’ll share the road if I decide to bike home tonight. It’s sunset, and I’ve only just now arrived at the Ntaja bus depot — a two-hour bike ride over dirt roads and paths from my house in Chikweo.
Read More8 continents: part 4
Here I am in Japan, watching the last of the money in my checking account disappear. Did I mention I have a pack-a-day cigarette habit I’m hiding from my family, I haven’t smoked in almost a week, and I want to kill everyone?
Read More8 continents: part 3
The next summer, I taught English at summer camps in two small towns in Eastern Europe. But in the end, as the ol’ cliché goes, I learned more than I taught…
Read More8 continents: part 2
I grew up in the sticks of Vermont, so when all my friends at the college newspaper were talking about their upcoming summer internships, I was like, “What’s an internship?” The answer was, apparently, the very hinge of your entire career and all prospects of future happiness.
Read More8 continents: part 1
The first time I got a good look at death was in Malawi, hitchhiking in the back of a pickup truck. We were speeding along the M1, and I was sitting rigid as a soldier, acutely aware that if anything went wrong, I would die.
Read MoreAre we salting the earth?
I had transformed our driveway into a slippery minefield, just begging to break the ankle of some new homeowner inching along beneath the preposterous weight of an oak desk or the cumbersome, jiggling mass of a queen mattress.
Read MoreMarketing masquerading as a movement.
My knee-jerk reaction was, “Oh, isn’t this just typical. Big corporation does 180-degree pivot trying to appear inclusive because that’s what sells these days.”
Read MoreWhat I’ve been listening to: Guys whining over their acoustic guitars
I just lose patience for songs that whine about situations with easily attainable solutions.
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