I was in the locker room with four other masters runners. One of our group made notice of another’s arm warmers. They’re so light and sheer, said the first, unlike any he’d ever seen before. Who makes them? The owner giggled sheepishly, looked around, and confessed: they’re his wife’s pantyhose. All of us were married with children, and thus, no stranger to oddball displays of ingenuity. There were high-fives all around. Continue reading “The Fargo Marathon”
A Ukrainian French Spring: Trying to Piece it All Together
I left our apartment and walked out into the day’s last light. We had been in Kiev, the capital of Ukraine, for two days and I was still trying to get a sense of what the current political and economic crises were doing to everyday life. That wasn’t why I was going – I really wanted to see the show. But justifying the abandonment of my wife and children for an evening by calling it geo-political sociology research seemed like a good idea. Continue reading “A Ukrainian French Spring: Trying to Piece it All Together”
Guatemala: Sleepless in Santa Elena
Ask my five-year-old daughter what she had for dinner during our stay and she will answer with resigned acceptance, beans. And what did you have for breakfast? More beans (sigh). She will only say the word out of the corner of her mouth, as if articulating it properly would give someone the opportunity to stuff more beans in. Continue reading “Guatemala: Sleepless in Santa Elena”
Zhytomyr: The Schnapps and Soviet-Style Architectural Capital of North-Central Ukraine
I studied the shot of clear liquor in front of me. It had a sharp fragrance that I couldn’t place, and no one at the table knew the English word for it. Our hostess made the first toast, and I downed 2 ounces of what turned out to be horseradish schnapps. Looking at the bottom of my shot glass I thought, it can’t possibly get any more Ukrainian than this. Continue reading “Zhytomyr: The Schnapps and Soviet-Style Architectural Capital of North-Central Ukraine”
It Takes a (Ukrainian) Village
There was something off about the style of the leather jackets the two men were wearing. At first I thought they were holdovers from the 1980’s, but that wasn’t quite right. They looked more like a reverse engineering effort where someone had described the 1980s to a designer who hadn’t lived through them, and those jackets were the result. Continue reading “It Takes a (Ukrainian) Village”
If You Can’t Go There, Bring There Here
As much as we might want to, there are some patches of real estate on the planet we are simply not going to be able to visit. As a second-best alternative, our family hosts international visitors to Chicago several times a year. Continue reading “If You Can’t Go There, Bring There Here”
Breakfast: The Mauritian Chronicles
American soft power, that ability to achieve diplomatic objectives without threat or coercion, stems from many sources: aid packages, student exchanges, Katy Perry songs. I would like to make the case that the US State Department should add pancakes to the list. Continue reading “Breakfast: The Mauritian Chronicles”
Touring an Indian Grocery Store in Chicago
A Gastronomic Trip to the Other Side of the Planet
I have never shopped for groceries on Devon Avenue, the epicenter of Chicago’s Indian population (I should probably say, the epicenter of Chicago’s Indian Subcontinent population – I’ve seen signs advertising both Indian and Pakistani goods in the same store, leading me to wonder, “Are they divided down the middle? Are people shooting at each other across the aisles?”). Continue reading “Touring an Indian Grocery Store in Chicago”
A Net Made of Rocks, and Other Guatemalan Surprises
Most of the french fries served in the US have a firm outer crust. To get that crunch, the potatoes must be fried twice at two different temperatures, or frozen, or both. In Guatemala, the roadside stands selling french fries just have one big pot of hot oil, and no freezers. When they get an order, they toss the sliced raw potatoes into the oil, producing a softer and creamier fry than the American version. This is the level of cultural contrasts I usually reflect on when traveling. Continue reading “A Net Made of Rocks, and Other Guatemalan Surprises”
The Indianapolis Monumental Marathon
A Cold Weekend Turns Hot and Steamy
Mile 22 of the Indianapolis Marathon was not where I expected to have my first extra-marital tryst. Continue reading “The Indianapolis Monumental Marathon”