I. The California Coast It took 12 hours and 400 miles to drive from Anaheim to San Francisco. I went the long way – two highways, one interstate, and hundreds of miles of coastline. I watched the carpet of fog roll back to reveal the ocean and the horizon. The road, twisting and turning, nestled itself […]Read more "“What if today were our last?"
Lesson 1: There is both a microbus schedule, and a crumbling shelter that marks the pick up spot for a van that takes townspeople between the town and the capital. Ignore both. Instead, listen to your host when she tells you,”Don’t bother with the microbus stop, go straight to the driver’s house. And [laughing], 8 […]Read more "I Play an Anthropology Student in Real Life"
I. In the openness of the train station the sound of my rolling luggage disappears into the muted sound of other passengers hurrying to board with their unwieldy belongings. We are making our way down the Beijing Railway platform and my companion is speaking, but that too dissolves into the intangible – I’ve glimpsed the […]Read more "The Trans-Mongolian Railway"
Introductions Ulaanbaatar is not a quiet city. It is loud. It is impatient. The clamor of development and collapse gnash relentlessly at your senses. Car horns bray the displeasure of their drivers. You are confronted by the din of construction, the acrid smell of newly tarred roads, and the reflection of post-socialism in the glossy […]Read more "Ulaanbaatar (Red Hero)"
June 10, 2011 It was hunger, I think, that finally drove me out of my hot, muggy room, into the hot, muggy Beijing morning. I’d been awake since about 6:30 a.m., and by 8:00 a.m., even I’d had enough of my stalling. Armed with my Chinese phrases for the day (“I don’t understand” and “I’m […]Read more "Conversations With Myself (or, How I Came to Sit at the Memoire Cafe, Enjoying an Iced-Coffee)"
I decided it might be neat to collect a few lines from some of the postcards I’ve sent home from these thousands of miles away. The type of person who still marvels at the ability of jumbo jets to lift themselves miles above the ground, I find it pretty neat that I can send a […]Read more "Postcards home (les petits mots)"