It’s sad. Folks spending eternity in a cemetery really are forgotten. We have don’t even have a word for them. We have words for the grounds (cemetery, necropolis, catacombs), words for the urns and burial stones, words for that stupid piece of plastic on the end of your shoelace (aglet), but no word for our collective of loved ones that left us their Hummel collections.

In China, who knows what the flavor Pink would be. There are firecracker red hot dogs, black eggs, purple rice, orange mushrooms, green oranges, and clear grain alcohol that can clean your clock. But pink?

Banking from China is ludicrous no matter who you bank with. For starters, you have to get up before Five AM to talk with a human, that is, if you are granted the right to talk.

This is not the place you’d want to be during an earthquake. These old houses are made out of mud brick.

Chinese New Year is around the corner. In order to avoid crowds at Carrefour and Walmart, I decided to go to the slightly less crowded wet market. A lot of action happens outside of the market. The sidewalks are bustling with delivery bikes. The three-wheeler belongs to a recycler. Recyclers get a nominal fee for the flattened boxes. If I […]