Central & South America
 |
Us Versus the Volcano (Adventure Category winner in the 2009 WanderWomen Write Contest) I’m not cut out to be a backpacker. Backpacking, if you’re not familiar, is a form of traveling popular with twenty-somethings looking to see some of the world, broaden their horizons and have regrettable sex with strangers….Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
The Onion Truck The dented dusty Blue Bird bus stood waiting by the side of the road, like a promise. With some degree of trepidation, we decided to jump aboard and venture into Guatemala….Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Never Judge a Many by His Shoes I call him the shoeless Mexican. Clearly that is not his real name. I don’t know his name, or anything else about him for that matter…Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Hola Comida! Little Jesus tugs at my hand, gesturing for me to follow him into the shed. I look at the boy curiously and allow myself to be dragged along. At the door to the backyard shed, a mangy dog tied to a stake in the ground leaps to his feet, barking at us furiously from the end of his frayed rope. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Sea-turtle Spotting in Suriname She looms close, lit by the moon. Her head reminds me of an old woman’s wrinkled face wrapped in a shawl. She’s one meter long, weighs about 150 kilograms and is moving fast. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Cuban Encounters “Which hotel are you staying at?” The immigration official at Havana’s José Martí International Airport puts down my passport and peers at me through the glass of his booth. “I’m not staying at a hotel,” I answer unsuspectingly. “I’m staying with a friend.” Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Coffee and Cake The hulking green army truck pulls up in front of the café like an angry elephant—belching and crushing and stomping. I’m humiliated when people on this main street in Antigua turn to stare—like, “Who’s going to ride in that thing?” Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Locals, Llamas and Lots of Laughs I arrived in Peru, an 18 year old, mobile phone clutched in hand, designer jeans donned and expectations high. The ancient land of the Incas was to be my home for 6 months, the children of the Urubamba region my project. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
On Guard Against Giardia Standing in line, Michelle and I prayed we’d chosen a good pharmacy. The white tiled floors had been freshly mopped, customers were being helped at each service window, and most importantly, every employee sat behind a computer. It was the computers that had drawn us in, made us choose this pharmacy over others we’d passed. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
What We Leave Behind The man walking towards me looked familiar. No, wait. It wasn’t his face. It was his shirt that looked familiar. It was black with white letters that read: Dunn Bros. Coffee, Minneapolis-St. Paul. I was from Minneapolis; I could count three Dunn Bros. coffee shops in my neighborhood alone. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
Meeting Mama – A Homestay with the Amantani on Lake Titicaca “Welcome to Amantani Island. One of these women standing before you will be your new Mama for the rest of your stay here,” our local guide Roger yells above the whistling warm wind of the approaching thunderstorm. Read more >> |
|
|
|
 |
When All You Have is Your Body I am hurtling down Avenida Reforma, one of Mexico City’s main arteries, in one of the ubiquitous green and white Volkswagen taxis that everyone—tourists and locals alike—waits for. I favor nostalgia and its slight discomforts over the newer red and white Nissan Sentra taxis, which have no personality as far as I’m concerned. Read more >> |
Powered by 
