Instead, I’ll write about the fear permeating my European friends’ thoughts and fears. The polls and news from the USA predicted a red wave that would create a political tsunami. Trump was announcing a run for president in 2024, and everyone agreed that Biden was too old to hold back the tidal wave. I started to consider not returning home. I had voted early before leaving for France, but maybe I would indefinitely delay my return to the States.
Category Archives: travel
The Joys of Travel
In October of this year, I will turn eighty. I am fully vaccinated and running out of time. COVID be damned! I’ve got my mask, and I’m on my way.
By the end of my few days in Nadi, the locals knew me, waved to me as I sat at a local coffee shop in the early morning, told their children to say bula, and smiled when we passed on the street.
Lessons Learned on the Jungle Trail
There was no relief, no euphoria—only dull shock. I fell asleep. When I awoke fifteen minutes later, or maybe it was an hour, I was disoriented. When I tried to stand, my legs cramped from my hips to my toes. I was dehydrated.
Holding Mother’s Hand
But that day in the museum, it was I who held her hand in mine. It was my hand supporting her, reassuring her, protecting her.
I suffer from acquired topographical disorientation, or directional dyslexia—I’m always getting lost
Has anything changed at America’s airports? We wear masks—carts are still not free and America is still not hospitable.
Finding My Roots
“I could feel the tracks on my cheeks burned into my memory from the tears I had shed in Sokolka.”
“Words did not matter. We were celebrating life, we were celebrating community, and trust abounded.”
I’m an infidel. I’m Jewish. I’m an American, and I’m a woman. Any one or all of these factors put me at risk when I visited Iran in the summer of 2004. To my Iranian friend’s more religious relatives, I was an unwelcome guest.