Term: Nonfiction
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I was sent on by the Karen Community Church of Greater Seattle this March. My team and I aimed to teach, serve, and learn from...
A day after we arrived in Taiwan, a friend emailed me. ‘Tell me about the spat between your mother-in-law and the Indonesian domestic’, she wrote....
Pleasant View Lodge was a summer resort on the banks of the Delaware River, in the Southern Tier of Upstate New York. A middle-aged European...
What is the difference between what is haunted and what is holy? The fine line between or the convergence of both was called into question...
Outside, without really leaving. Living on the nineteenth floor means that the outside always begins with a button. A weekend in a caravan outside seemed...
In Papua New Guinea, where beauty and danger collide, I was pushed far beyond my comfort zone and confronted truths about privilege, resilience, and what...
“Real music; Greek music!” I nodded at the woman, so small and soft, reminding me of my Italian aunties. She was loud like them, too,...
If you have never been to the Deira district of Dubai, nothing quite prepares you for the assault on the senses that is the Old...
September-red ivy twines around the white stone arch in front of me, like tendrils of a Scottish lass’ auburn hair framing her alabaster face. Behind...
A thin woman with undulating hazel hair and a button nose set between high cheekbones sat in the front of the room with a wooden...
At around four in the afternoon at Ta Keo, when the light begins to flatten, and the stone finally gives up pretending it is not...
My mom hugged me a little longer than usual, a little tighter too. I can feel the hesitation, as if she holds on just a...
We flew in a few days ago, as we have over the past two decades. My wife is from Zaragoza, Spain, and I am from...
On the final summit, no one seemed especially impressed. A man in a North Face windbreaker was eating instant noodles from a paper bowl. Two...
During one of the wettest and cloudiest days of the Tuscan spring, I found myself standing outside the Tower of Pisa during Holy Week. I...
There is a smoking room on the bus. The door doesn’t close all the way, and acrid Indonesian tobacco smoke curls through the door. The...
We parked our cars on the side of Savoy Mountain, a few yards up from the hairpin turn. The trailhead was hidden by some bushes,...
We’d been driving through Zimbabwe’s Eastern Highlands all week, and by dusk I’d stopped trying to absorb everything. The bus pulled into a petrol station...
I once thought of naming the place ‘Remedios’, pilfered from Gabriel Garcia Marquez but sincere in what I felt about the setting, and the sensibility...