I still remember the first time I confused a Dominican cashier by asking if their “pollo broaster” came with yucca fries. Her raised eyebrow said
The Smell of Wet Earth and Roasted Beans The first time I unrolled my mat on a waxed wooden floor in Salento, the morning fog
El celular que se fue volando: A personal wake-up call Two summers ago I stepped out of a packed chiva in Medellín, thrilled to finally
Un cafecito y un refrán: the day I earned my nickname I was sipping a tiny plastic cup of café colao under a tin roof
El Banco y Yo: A Dad Moment in Santo Domingo I still remember the morning my eight-year-old godson, Luisito, tugged my sleeve outside Banco Popular
I still remember the rooster crowing somewhere behind the coconut palms at Playa Encuentro as I jogged toward the registration tent, surfboard under my arm
The Scent of My First Feria de las Flores Ten Augusts ago, freshly arrived from Santo Domingo with more optimism than pesos, I stood in
When My New Dominican Neighbor Knocked—A Tale of Two Countries I was seasoning a pot of sancocho in Santo Domingo when Doña Mercedes, the neighbor
Why My New Laptop Led Me Into the ITBIS Rabbit Hole The first time I tried to reclaim ITBIS—Dominican value-added tax—I had just snagged a
Why Day-Care Drop-Offs Became My Favorite Classroom I still remember the first Monday I landed in Medellín after years of island life in the Dominican