Monday we set out to call on some family. We’re staying just down the road from the village of Gros Islet where Jacqui grew up. The name of the village makes no sense apparently: gros means large, and islet means small island. We can walk there from ou…
Sa ka fete (which keeps trying to autocorrect to fête) is the ‘What’s up?’ of greetings here in Saint Lucia, and I love it because it sounds like you’re asking everyone if they’re having a party (which is fair here on an island where it seems like each…
Wednesday ends up a series of happy accidents. We awake not later than normal and walk to the square to get fries to go, as a snack to eat on our way to a more proper breakfast. I want a green smoothie and a salad or something (or rather my…
We wake up early to buckets of rain pouring onto the skylight. In Belgium there is a saying: sa drache; it’s bucketing. We manage to leave the house at a more reasonable hour, and poke our heads into yet more police activity in the little square where …
Belgium has the oldest compulsory voting system in the world, and goes to great lengths to enforce it. Matthias received a ballot and voting instructions all the way in the States for the election that was held here on Sunday (we voted last week, and i…
Beinvenue à la maison doesn’t quite have the same ring to it. Another one of those untranslatable things. There’s a massive canvas of the Brooklyn Bridge in our Brussels apartment. There are Burton and all manner of other snowboard/skateboard/surfing w…
Today we walked around the Medina in Fez, the old walled city. If you’ve never been in an old city, you need to imagine a place with not a square inch of public dirt or grass. The cobbled lanes have narrow low gutters on either side, and shops and door…
I hadn’t prepared myself for Morocco smelling like Africa, too—that sweet, earthy, dusty smell of sand, vegetation, and fires. As soon as I step off the plane, I take whole lungfuls of that sweet air, smiling as I saunter down the stairs of the gangway…
I Love You, Always Will ‘I love you,’ I told Julian as he scooped up his bag and swung it over his shoulder, heading out the door. ‘I love you,’ he said, matter-of-factly, ‘Always will.’ I walked him to the door, kissed him goodbye, and bade him safe travels on…
