Last Tuesday, squeezed between a grandmother fanning herself with a lottery ticket and a university kid bobbing his head to dembow, I missed my stop
My First Tejo Explosion and the Pint That Followed The first time I felt a mecha explode in a Tejo court, I was still shaking
Three months ago, a rogue popcorn kernel cracked the last bit of dignity my teeth had left. That snap echoed in my Santo Domingo apartment,
La noche que confundí el fucsia con el rosado chicle Tenía apenas veintitrés años, recién aterrizado en Santo Domingo, cuando un colega dominicano me invitó
“¡James, el bizcocho se está inclinando como la Torre de Pisa!” shouted my Dominican friend Mariela two hours before her beach wedding in Juan Dolio.
El temblor de mi primer comentario: cómo casi pierdo un amigo anfitrión Tenía apenas dos meses viajando con Airbnb cuando decidí escaparme de Santo Domingo
From Santo Domingo Traffic to Bogotá’s Autopistas: My First App-Based Hitch Ten years ago I landed in Santo Domingo with a suitcase full of sunscreen
Clay Under Caribbean Fingernails I still remember the first time a lump of Dominican barro rojo squished between my palms. I had drifted into a
My first salsa night in Medellín could have been a disaster. I’d drifted into El Poblado straight from Santo Domingo, still using the breezy Dominican
Why I Ended Up Translating Epidural Dreams at 3 A.M. I never planned on becoming the unofficial interpreter for my buddy Tom and his Dominican