As I sat at the round kitchen table drinking a tiny cup of strong coffee made from beans grown close to where we gathered, I listened to the conversation being spoken between new friends. A few of the words I could understand, but most of them went beyond my high school Spanish comprehension. Not understanding the language never seems to matter much on these trips, and it didn’t this time either. The back door was...
Over the past few months, I’ve traveled new streets, alleys, subways, stairways on mountainsides, beaches, and aisles in various places around Asia. I’ve walked beside friends who speak different languages, but are of the same heart, and walked past strangers with the only resemblance being our humanity. Smells of fish markets, sewage, incense and flowers; sights of tall buildings, small shacks, sweet smiles, blank stares, bright colors, and filth have all swirled around in my...
