on learning not to know
My worst fear in Spain starts with someone walking up to me on the street. It doesn’t have to be at night, or on an empty street, or anything like that. I can be walking to class on the brightest, most spectacular Granada morning, but if I see someone coming towards me, I brace myself…
After I didn’t quite get run over by a moped—well, Buenas noches to you too, Barcelona—now, where was I? On the fringe of the Plaça de Catalunya, wasn’t it? Where the street-grid is tortured into a disjointed delirium of alleyways. Where basketballs fly out of the dark. Buenas noches, pick-up game players. And Buenas noches eight-year-olds,…
Blaubeuren is one of those pockets in Germany from which the magic hasn’t yet trickled out. This is still the Germany of the Brüder Grimm, the Brothers Grimm. You never know what might pop out of a well here: a frog prince, a witch with three wishes, a nixie. Something sacred throbs from Blaubeuren’s spring….
The Importance of Sharing a Meal
I have discovered, while traveling in France and Italy, a quieter side of food culture that I appreciate even more than the range of cheese selections at the deli. In the past two months I have learned how to appropriately pair wine and pasta. I have learned how to make homemade gnocchi and cheese soufflé….
Environmental Corruption in Cambodia
In a country like Cambodia, development and reconstruction is crucial. The Khmer Rouge and resulting civil war nearly destroyed the country and left it a skeleton of its former self. For the past fifteen years, the government has been pushing to bring back normalcy in a country that has seen nothing but war for over…