Home It’s an elusive term, isn’t it? It’s why we have so many aphorisms about it: “Home is where the heart is.” “A man [sic] travels to figure out what he’s looking for and returns home to find it.” “Home is where I can look and feel ugly and enjoy it.” Okay, maybe not…
En sortant du métro vers le remue-ménage du centre-ville du samedi soir mon coeur sursaute. Parfois, je marche dans la ville juste pour voir ce qu’elle fait, Toronto. Est-ce qu’elle est bruyante ? Est-ce qu’elle rit ? J’aime ses quartiers, sa diversité, et le fait qu’on puisse sortir chaque soir pendant un an sans…
I sat quietly among the flurry of languages on L2 on the Barcelona metro. We were heading west towards La Pau, but few would go that far. At 2:30 in the afternoon, it was unlikely that these were commuters. I looked around and tried to guess who would be getting off at the same stop…
I would really like it if we could stay friends. There are so many things I love about you, parts of you I find charming, and I put so much into our relationship: trying new things, meeting your friends and family, but it didn’t fulfill me. I waded in the deepest rivers of your soul…
I stood in front of the red double doors of a Toronto subway carriage, holding on to the silver stanchion and staring at the reflection of myself in the window pane. It wasn’t the same reflection I saw seven months ago, before I had moved to the Caribbean. My skin was tanned and my hair…
It’s been a busy challenging few months. I haven’t written anything for this blog since December and truth be told, I’ve been feeling less than inspired to write in general. I’m coming to the end of my master’s degree and starting over putting the finishing touches on my thesis. In any case, change is in…
A good friend of mine is studying to be a lawyer. I said to her yesterday that I was surprised she’s going in such a ‘corporate’ direction — not because she shouldn’t be, but because her side projects are strongly oriented towards social justice in the Black and Indigenous communities. I just assumed her decision…
“To me the Caribbean was a bag of clichés of rasta locked, ganja smoking, reggae listening chillers who live on palm filled islands surrounded by clear blue water whilst swigging rum. I had no idea how right I was.” — Caribbean Paradise: Cuba Libres, coconuts and confirming clichés on Little Corn [instagram url=”https://www.instagram.com/p/BJAatnwgj4h/” width=”500″] I…
I’m nearing the end of my first term of graduate studies! In honour of the new discipline (anthropology), I’ve been conducting my own research on graduate student life. I’m using the most robust of methods: participant observation. It seems to me that grad life is hard. The graduate student recipe looks something like this: Take…
[instagram url=”https://instagram.com/p/7BIzMNqZ9K/” width=500] (Goodness I’m melodramatic!) Things are slow here on the blog, but it certainly hasn’t felt that way for me on the ground. I got back to Canada at the end of August and started my MA program just over a week later. I barely had time to reconnect with friends, many of…
