Leaving El Salvador at La Union, we climb aboard a small passenger ferry to cross a bay that carves the…
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El Salvador
We discover that in El Salvador the local currency is the US dollar, but that we still cannot drink the…
Antigua, Guatemala to Copan, Honduras
The doors open to the airport arrivals area and the heat of Guatemala, and it draws me outside. I’ve arrived…
The Audacity of Fear
It was along this road, in the east, where I first noticed the signs. They could not go un noticed. On this recurring sign was written a simple word that asked us for so much. That asked us to excavate rooted convictions and sensibilities. That admonished us for weakness, reminded us of strength. Pierced into the grounds of some front yards, this single word in white on black stood out defiantly: Resist.
Wood Water Rock
DAY 1: Nature is raw at 4,300 feet above sea level. Wind courses through pine branches unharnessed. Water tumbles and…
Breaking Greek
The Greeks have taken their island back. The Germans and Dutch seem to have been swept up and put on…
Kitchen Talk
The kitchen is the hub of most homes and where I spend my working hours. I haven’t been given a…
Breakfast and Other Notions
Batsi busies itself for the upcoming season. From my small patio, I hear its sounds contending against the waves of…
Cold Days in Andros
I’m looking out the rain splattered window of the ferry that is now delaying its departure from Rafina port, on…
Street Life
Leaving Lycabettus, I retrace the steps from my memory that lead me to the bakeries and kitchens we frequented 50…
Write Down the Road 