I–like everyone else–thought the world would be spinning by now, but no. We are right back where we started, well sort of.
Last week, I returned from Asia to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where I began an self imposed Corona-tine. I binged watched Tiger King and episodes of Narcos with my nephew, a Fulbright scholar who was studying in Brazil when all hell broke loose. His govt funded program got hit with the virus, too. Since I was doing that, I didn’t […]
Never go to an airport on the day they are closing international borders.
For all of you hoarding toilet paper during the Corona Virus, this Laos Folktale is for you.
The party was an experience in Muslim tradition crashing with classic Americana. Rooty the Bear with burkas, curly fries with sardine puffs, Lego birthday cake and gift bags of jack fruit.
There’s only one thing more disgusting than having nothing to sell at the market than rodents. That’s being the tourist who wants to take a picture. Me.
This is the picture you see on tourist websites for the golden Buddha in the Tham Phu Kham Cave in Vang Vieng, Laos. What they don’t show you is the black hole behind it, the one that I fell into, in spite of the flash light strapped around my head.
I think of their experience while I am in exile in Laos during the Corona frenzy where my only regret is not packing my yoga mat.
I am in a remote area of Loas known as Four Thousand Islands (Si Phan Don). It’s one of those places you go when you run out of places to go.
Other than the sea food and my cutesy “this should be featured on Pinterst” homestay, Can Tho is the Cleveland of Vietnam. Totally blue collar with no hawkers trying to sell you trinkets or drag you on a day tour. I meandered to the local fresh market where I purchased my coveted souvenir: sea salt.