Louisiana highway eighty-two slopes south of Abbeville to the Gulf of Mexico. The raised and shoulderless byway uncovers a lifestyle, dramatic recent destruction, and geography that the parish seat quietly conceals in its more densely populated setting. It is the gateway to the expansive wetlands where waterfowl and fearsome reptiles far outnumber human inhabitants. “There’s a gator!” cries out Alison, my newly-acquired guide from the Chamber of Commerce. I am too busy keeping the car on the two-lane road, knowing full well that any significant error will land us in a waterlogged ditch. I nonetheless peer off to try to catch the glimpse of one in the natural rectangular ponds. At fifty-five miles an hour, I can make nothing of the wooden sticks that protrude above the surface. I am still unconvinced that I saw one. ... read more

Abbeville’s unique and elegant downtown should be an icon for Main Street America. Founded by Père Antoine Désiré Mégret in 1843 as La Chapelle, Père Mégret designed Abbeville with two connected central squares around which traffic flows counterclockwise. The manicured grounds of St. Mary Magdalen church anchor the western square at the center of which is a tastefully designed park with benches, a white gazebo in a corner, a gurgling fountain, and a statute of Father Mégret. Behind the rectory’s framed flower beds and palm plants rests the remains of Abbeville’s ancestors in the Catholic cemetery. It is signposted as an historical landmark; the text reads in English on one side and perfectly constructed French on the other. The names on the gravestones make it unmistakably clear that French was once the common vernacular of Abbeville ... read more

The bar-fenced Texas ranches of sharp defoliated bushes along I-10 enclose lethargic cattle grazing on dry vegetation. Little changes on the horizon to keep the mind occupied on any highway in East Texas. The broad plots of land are replaced first by oboe-like towers of petroleum refineries in the Houston area. On the far side of the Sabine River, swamps and canals welcome motorists far more appropriately than even the signpost that reads Bienvenue en Louisiane. Vermilion Parish lacks color and is flat, dry, and shapeless in late December. The heat is unimaginable in the summer, they say. With the exception of piles of sand and construction stones outside a construction firm, the nearest natural hill is over one hundred miles away. My father told me the highway through Louisiana was uneventful; I was glad to ... read more

You know you’re in a third world country when… 1. You ask the taxi driver if the police are honest, not the other way around. 2. No one can make change in a shop for the equivalent of $10 at nine in the morning. 3. The welcoming committee and your favorite restaurant or guesthouse is a sleeping dog. 4. The taxi fare to the bus or train station is far greater than the one you’re about to pay for the eight-hour, overnight journey. 5. Backpackers haggle over fifty cents on a taxi fare. 6. A bitch in heat keeps you up all night along with the rest of the canine population in town. 7. The difference between a taxi driver and a lioness stalking an impala is indistinguishable. 8. A scheduled three-hour bus journey becomes a ... read more

No matter what type of soup it is, I always down the broth first, then I go for the main ingredients after which it is named. At a pasta meal, I put aside the spicy sausage until the linguine is finished. I savor each bite until my plate is empty; it belnds quite well with wine. In the classroom the most engaging or entertaining lessons are left for right before the end of the unit, a day or two before the exam. I hold the game, activity, or interactive video as a reminder of what is to come when and if the class holds up its end of the bargain. When travelling through Southeast Asia, it is no different. I have finally reached the hyper-touristed city of Siem Reap. Despite its commercialism and monolithic economy, what ... read more