Life from Canada to Latin America, one word at a time.
The Parkway was glorious this morning. The sun was shining and there were people everywhere. I saw a man carrying a giant bouquet of helium balloon figures, a baby with an enormous hair ribbon eating an oblea, an elderly man pushing an even older man in a wheelchair, a tiny political rally directly across from
“Dear 1037148,” wrote one admirer to a golden elm in May. “You deserve to be known by more than a number. I love you. Always and forever.” (Atlantic Magazine) Airports are my favourite. There is nothing to do but sit, think, eat hamburgers, and spray myself with expensive perfumes. Whatever is left behind is simply
On street corners and under shade trees, functionaries from Bogota held court almost everyday in Mampujan. Dressed in vests proclaiming their identity as members of the Unidad de Victimas, or the Organization of the American States, or the Sena or universities or whatever, they passed out attendance sheets and lectured the community on how to
A year ago, I officially moved to the city and started my new job. A year ago, Jorge Montes was arrested. A year ago, I met Jhonatan Vargas on a quick work trip to Barrancabermeja. A year ago, I visited the Canadian embassy and wrote letters to try to resolve our visa situation. Many things
I have the gift of vacations. Unlike many people I know, I am very good at doing nothing for long extended periods of time. Ever since I graduated from high school and realized that real life involved working forever, early retirement has become my goal. And what a fabulous vacation I had! Here are some
The Llama Diaries 