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
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
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,
“¡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.
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
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
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
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
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
I still remember the first time a vintage Levi’s jacket betrayed me in Medellín. The tag promised “32,” my Dominican roommate swore it looked “de