Happy Thanksgiving Mr R!

Happy Thanksgiving Mr R! It was a pleasure to meet you a few months ago, and I dearly hope that your first American Thanksgiving is a happy day, when you can join me,… Continue reading

I thought it was just a photo

I wasn’t expecting a lesson in male privilege. I thought I was just decorating. But one of the candidate photos was from a late night wander through September streets of Venice, complete with… Continue reading

The good thing about terrorism.

Here’s something you already knew: the Dark Ages were F’ing brutal. I’ve been studying those terrible centuries for my job, and they were worse than I realized. Someone doesn’t like you and says… Continue reading

Islam is not the problem

What can one say about what happened in Paris last week? How to adequately address this manifestation of humanity’s darkest potential? I’m not sure how to do it well, but I’ve seen some… Continue reading

Myanmar and America politics, only one we can like

“I think we should talk about politics,” I suggested to the table of tour members, bored senseless with the American conversation of what you do for work. “Oh, but wouldn’t you rather be… Continue reading

A visitor in my land, for a moment

The first announcement was so bland and polite. “The eastbound train on platform two is going out of service. Please do not board this train. It will be departing momentarily.” The crowd of… Continue reading

Was Mussolini really that bad?

Mussolini participated in one of the darkest chapters of the twentieth century. Is that it? As a tour guide, I seek a deeper understanding that one-line summaries, so went looking for Mussolini and… Continue reading

I’m naked, with special guest: Benito Mussolini

“Mi scusi” is Italian for “Excuse me.” You might hear it when someone interrupts, or steps on your foot, or when the maid opens the door to your hotel room without knocking, two… Continue reading

Community of strangers, on one last night in Rome

They have a community, these men. They have formed a new edition of an ancient tradition, society’s subtext of foreigners who do not pertain, but belong anyway.

Okay fine. I give up. I love Paris too.

There’s something terribly cliche about loving Paris. It’s like loving chocolate, puppies, and The Princess Bride. Of course you love those things. So does everyone else. Not interesting. After reading the 10,000th love… Continue reading