Outside of space

I feel outside of space on a plane. I can see the figure of our vehicle on the map, wings outstretched over Greenland and the northern reach of the Atlantic, but these are colors and shapes on a tiny screen that wiggles when the man in the seat ahead adjusts his back pillow. I don’t feel connected to the air which should be cold enough outside these walls to freeze my little bones. Never mind I’m thousands of feet about the ocean. This is space travel, you know. The man in the seat next to me is watching Star Trek…

I Rode Through Space Town On a Motorcycle. (2-10-2009)

There are some strange things to note when you are visiting other countries. The peculiars are even more thrilling when the country speaks English. Here in India I daily encounter interesting combinations of English words which for my Texan lexicon are quite a thrill. I loved being asked by Yahoo!India, “Is Obama redefining the cool quotient?” I was thoroughly bemused when encountered by a billboard for “Theism Braingym”. It beckoned, “Experience the nurture of Theism!,” in neon green font next to a giant baby head. And today, I had a doubly cultural and linguistic excitement: I road through the rich…

Purgatory is a whirring bus ride with a stop at the mystery cafeteria

I am, for the first time in a month, on interent that is not costing minute by minute. Sitting in this hostel in San Jose, I thought to use this time to write about life lived on Taboga Island. But there is a more pressing story to be told. Two days ago we decided to go to Costa Rica. Last night at 10:45pm we boarded a bus for the Panama-Costa Rica border. Full of riders, the capsule carried through the night, stopping only once at 2:00am. It was a twilight zone of a rest stop. As soon as our charter…