Tag Archive: travel

Informative, sleepy, exciting. And a little bit disgusting.

Those gross little white things that you spit up from the back of your throat from time to time, the squishy stinky ones you hide and forget? Those are called tonsiloliths. If you… Continue reading

Hemoglobin, non-terrorism, and adorable despite a little racism; in Panama City.

I was a happy little red blood cell. Biding my time before entering the veins of Venezuela, I was promenading through the pulse of Panama, crossing arterial roadways to meander beside the lymphatic… Continue reading

Why bother blogging?

I’m supposed to be writing a blog right now. Instead, I’m pretending to type while observing the hunched man across the communal table, who looks like Lewis Black fallen on hard times. His… Continue reading

Ample? Fat? Or something more creative?

“What about this one? How does it look?” His girlfriend considered for a moment, head tilted to the side and lips pursed just a little. “I like it, the color is good on… Continue reading

A home for Alvaro

“My daughter is a musician,” were Alvaro’s proud words as we shared a taxi into Caracas. He was the program coordinator for the Witness for Peace delegation that I had come to Venezuela… Continue reading

Getting gas in Venezuela

It’s a routine errand, expensive, kinda smelly, and utterly unexciting, for millions (billions?) of people. Filling up the tank. Getting gas. Burning dinosaur bones. (And you were worried this was a chronological consequence… Continue reading

Food porn, Venezuela style

The pupusas of El Salvador clearly made an impression on me, but Venezuela was ready with a rebound relationship. The arepa is the traditional and quintessential food item of Venezuela and Colombia, dating… Continue reading

Pussycat love and perspective on/in Israel

So yes, Jerusalem felt like it wanted to hate me. But I still fell head-over-heels in love in the city. I suspect he was a male. He had clean teeth, big feet, and… Continue reading

I fear for Israel; or, Jerusalem wanted to hate me.

“I need a little more time to know for sure how I feel about Jerusalem…” was all I could say after I left there last year. Months went by, and I never came back… Continue reading

A battalion of sauces, lots of boobies, and sheer normalcy on the streets of Caracas.

(In deference to the blogosphere’s reverence for brevity, I split this post in two; the first half is here)   After clearing customs, hearing of youthful harlots, and being warned that the water… Continue reading