where the deer and the antelope play

I don’t know where home is, anymore. It used to be where I had always lived, in the middle, as I put it in my Common App essay, of cows and Christians and corn forever. Only the rare birds took flight from this verdant and comfortably monotonous landscape. I was that rare bird of my high…

the new normal [part 2]

In my last post, I talked about [de/re]sensitizing myself to clashes of cultures and injustice, and the importance –for me, that is– of staying conscious of that process. That post was inspired by a list I started making this semester of all the things that I now find mundane about my existence here. Have at it!…

{7.4.15} vanquished: the first [x-p-licit]

Hooola washiiita… ¿vamos? Heyyyyy [derogatory+sexualized term for a woman]…. you comin’?  Fuck off. I toss it over my shoulder as a grin breaks loose from the curl of my lips. I don’t like to swear, but I won’t complain. It’s my first time confronting a catcall on the fly. Shoulders square and I slip into a slight swagger, despite the african drum I’m…

{14.1.15} The city mouse and the country mouse (part 1/?)

It was on the island of Chiloé, in the southern part of Chile, that I first started to notice the differences between the countryside and the city in Chile. I´ve spent most of my time in Chile thus far in Santiago (where 1/3 of the population lives) or Valparaíso, which, while not a big city,…

{20.9.14} Snapshots and Thoughts of Valparaíso

Fathers love quietly A small boy with a bowl cut sits on his father’s suitcase, back against the telescoping handle. He eats a snack while his father squats in front of him, face at his level, and they talk quietly. Together, they wait for the bus. spring has come and these flowers now bathe the…