When I would visit her when she lived in Ottawa, she would take me to parties – parties in restaurants. I felt like a celebrity, because for me it was only celebrities that partied in restaurants. The people at these parties were different too. They had foreign-sounding names and talked with accents – German and British.
They had expanded several sizes, along with the rest of me. I was no longer the young, thin curvaceous chick. It seemed my body was going through yet another drastic change. Having had two children by this time, I realized something had to be done with all the weight I carried in front of me.
National Geographic Magazine came alive in flesh and blood for me when I visited a Long Neck Karin village in northern Thailand. I felt like I was at a zoo, but a zoo of women – they were smiling and welcomed the other tourists and me. I had my camera hanging around my neck so it was pretty clear I qualified as a gawker!
The book ‘1,000 Places To See Before You Die’ includes Sapa in northwestern Vietnam, and with good reason. The geography is stunning without being overwhelming. The local hill people, with their faces deeply etched with character, welcome tourists for home stays and mountain trekking. This article describes a corner of the world that visitors will remember fondly for the rest of their lives.
Millions of Filipinas suffer lives of poverty and stress. The causes are systemic and cultural. This article discusses the author’s personal observations and conclusions.
‘Lynn Gray’s images are described as fiery ethnic portrait and self-portrait drawings. She feels it is the viewer’s responsibility to complete the drawing through self-reflection and questioning what it means to have and engage in an inclusive community spirit and presence.’
All she had been told was, “to wear some clothes that can get a little dirty.” As the car pulled up in front of the art studio she said, “Ohhhhhhh we’re taking an art lesson! That is so cool!” The maid of honor had to hide her grin, because Crystal really had no idea what they were in for.
They arrived in Ngaliama late in the afternoon, the sun at its hottest, dust coating everything. Asya was surprised to find the village exactly the same as how she pictured it for these many years. It did not seem smaller, bigger, cleaner, or filthier; it was as if time had stood still here.
The spacious dining room was buzzing with the lively accents of women from Israel, Hong Kong, Germany and the Philippines. Others born in Mexico, Thailand, the U.S., Indonesia, and yes, even Canada, completed the luncheon group that day, an intercultural gathering of friends who have shared times like these for the past 25-plus years.
In the middle of the night they crept to her mother’s friend two doors away. They clung to each other for many long minutes, tears glistening in the starlight. “When I am a rich doctor in America I will come and get you,” Asya promised her mother.