This is not the story I meant to write, but it’s the one that needed to be written.

On the hard clay shore of the Río Villano in the Ecuadorian Amazon, me and another volunteer jump around, shaking our limbs and wiggling our bodies to keep the tiny biting flies, known as chuspies, from leaving more angry red welts on our skin. We have also partially covered ourselves in the clay upon which … Continue reading This is not the story I meant to write, but it’s the one that needed to be written.

Evidence of foul play on a Thursday morning.

Chichicastenango, Guatemala. Thursday morning, market day. 9:31AM. I wake up on the tiny couch and stretch my cramped muscles. Most of the woolly blankets I had piled on the night before are now bunched up on the floor next to my overflowing backpack. I often marvel at how much it resembles a drunkard, vomiting up … Continue reading Evidence of foul play on a Thursday morning.

The mother of learned skills is avoiding paid tours

The Spanish 20-something girl, Ada, and I glance at each other dubiously with matching sideways grins. We’re standing at a motorbike rental shop in Pai, Thailand, trying to weigh sudden-death-by-motorbike against our overwhelming desire to see the countryside sans-tour-guide. Neither of us has ever ridden a motorbike before. Strangers barely three days ago, we had … Continue reading The mother of learned skills is avoiding paid tours