A glance at an Ecuadorian tourist ghetto: At the center of it all is Plaza Foch, a cobbled square lined by outdoor bars, lounges and cafes where eight-year-old Kichwa kids the color of coffee, dragging wooden shoe-shining kits behind them, are shooed away by patrons, where roving packs of Argentinian hippies hawk their handmade wares to anyone with a pulse, where gringos scoff at the outdated Top 40 music by day, and dance to its familiar beats at night.
Beautiful signage is common in the bay
Graff in Berkeley
Hitchhiking in the Oriente, the eastern/Amazonian half of Ecuador
The gayest day of my life
Going manic in Montreal: “We shared a joint in the house’s wintry backyard, overgrown with scandent vines that yield wild red grapes in the summer. A laundry line spangled with cotton underwear tied between tamarack trees hung over our heads like good luck. Alejandro told me about locking up his bike outside the Jean-Talon Metro stop three days ago and losing the key. Our laughter woke up the neighborhood dogs.”
decolonizing travel culture