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Tales from the Mountains
Señor Vildoso cuts the little moto-taxi’s engine as we careen down the curving hillside towards Estique Pampa. Once again, I have returned to the mountain region of Tacna, accompanying my students on...
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A Slow Goodbye
The sun sets on me for the last time. I spot the panadería on the narrow street, the tienda on the highway with its typical two customers drinking beer at the table outside. I sit in the back of the...
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Mes de Misión: Third Time’s the Charm
I sit at the top of the ridge amongst cactus spines, dirt, and dust. The view is spectacular with a crisp, blue sky and mountains dotted with eucalyptus trees as far as the eye can see. We were sent...
View ArticleComing Home to Quarantine
More than two years had passed since I had set foot in my parent’s home. I had not walked on the shores of Northern California, my childhood companion, in over two years. I had not eaten a scrumptious...
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When you have the Heart of an Adventurer (but the Pancreas of a Diabetic)
“I see that you have diabetes. In the past, I have tried to process applications with those who have diabetes, however, they have always been unsuccessful… I’m very sorry, but I don’t think I would...
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Reverse Culture Shock: Who Am I Post-Service?
April has come to an end. Almost a quarter of a year has gone by since I left my life as a volunteer in Peru. I was on the phone the other day with Faith, a former volunteer who served with me, and...
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eight hundred and twenty-two
it has beennine hundred and eight dayssince i boarded that plane nine hundred and seven dayssince i stepped onto the tarmacexchanging damp winters for hotpressing heatmy first christmas in summer...
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In the Words of my Great-Great Grandfather
“I’m lending this to you. Remember, I want it back.” My grandmother hands me a non-descript, navy blue book. The only details on the worn, hard cover are the title, Reminiscences, and the author’s...
View Articlebehind the mask
I currently own a handful of reusable masks, collected over the months from various crafty friends and worried relatives. While I have become accustomed to incorporating a mask into my everyday life,...
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Diabetic and Afraid: Trypanophobia
“I could never be a diabetic, I’m too scared of needles.” When I hear this phrase, my usual response is to laugh and smile, while in my head a sassy voice snaps back: “It’s not like I have a choice”....
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