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 MoreHere 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 MoreThe 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 MoreI 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 MoreThe 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.
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