These random encounters are why I pine away for days on the road. Something about those kinds of exchanges that make the world, the people in it, and even I, feel more real, more substantial. The connection. The mutual curiosity. That’s why I was there. That’s why I threw it all away. It’s a drug, and I was addicted. However, my feelings of eating cow brain were slightly more ambivalent. But I had to do it. I just had to. In that moment, I earned a stranger’s respect and trust. I joined his tribe …Read More
The Lonely Planet described the main road as “surfaced all the way and in generally good shape”. Close. Mostly surfaced. The sections that weren’t really weren’t. If I was lazy, I’d describe it as lunar in spots, but I’ve never been to the moon, and the cliché is, well, clichéd. Sections were bad, but they were the exception, not the rule.
Here’s my non-exhaustive list of perceived hazards: Potholes, bigger potholes, rock piles, sand piles, goats, horses, cows, monkeys, chickens, more goats, shadowy…Read More
Destination? Democracy, bitches. I experienced polling station ping pong as I was ferried from one voting depot to another (eight in all). My celebrity status mushroomed, almost atomically one might say. I wasn’t just the center of attention, I was a major distraction, much to the chagrin of polling agents. Pretty sure I made official government-types nervous. Snapping a shitload of photos didn’t help. Voters, on the other hand, were loving it—saying hello, smiling incessantly, demanding I include them. And yet…Read More