It was time to get a little exercise and test my lungs and legs this afternoon at 9000 feet and so I braved a tiny drizzle in my hiking sneakers, a pair of jeans, a scarf, a sweater and a light raincoat. I focused on all the textures I saw along the way because I […]
A Walk in the Neighborhood Read More »
This morning before breakfast, Gonzalo led me into the main yoga studio where Karyn will be teaching morning yoga and I will be holding our writing circles. The space is round like a giant yurt, but is called a molloka. I set my things in the corner and sat on the striped mat Gonzalo set
A two hour drive to San Francisco, a flight to Mexico City, a overnight flight to Lima and a morning flight to Cusco and an hour and half drive into the magic of the Sacred Valley—and we’re here! Today is a day of rest and getting acquainted with this retreat center. Tomorrow Brenda, our True
Every week for the past 8 weeks, I’ve been sending our Peru travelers an email for information warming them up for next week’s trip. Here’s the final letter I just sent out. You can read and pretend you’re coming along. Here’s the letter: Life begins at the end of your comfort zone. – Neale Donald
Last Words Before Travel Read More »
Tomorrow morning, Karyn and I fly to Mexico City and then to Lima and then to Cusco. We’ll stumble off the airplane at 11,000 feet and be greeted by a driver holding a sign with our names on it. An hour and a half later, we’ll arrive by van at Sach’a Munay, our home for
Last week, during my first full day in Serbia, while Dusica and I were strolling along the Danube talking about the history of Incest Resources, she had us go into a little restaurant with colorful light fixtures on the tables and walls covered of bright, cheerful paintings. She was making a reservation for a meeting
A Final Adventure on the Danube Read More »
We had dinner and wine and live local music for our last night–and a tour of the winery. There was a lot of singing and dancing to the local music, especially as the night went on in the wineglasses emptied. Here’s a taste of the music:
Last Night Celebration Read More »
Of course, as a responsible teacher, I get to my classroom at least fifteen minutes before we’re supposed to start. I want to have the room set up to welcome the students and I like a little time to ground myself and review what I’m going to do. This morning, when I walked into our
Before I arrived in Serbia, I was unsure how it would be to teach writing to non-English speakers. That’s not actually accurate—almost all Europeans are multilingual, many speaking multiple languages, and since English is one of the first languages people learn after their mother tongue, the majority of my workshop participants understand and speak English,
The Realities of Translation from One Language to Another Read More »
On one of our breaks yesterday, Maja from the Incest Trauma Center handed me a small gift. It was a set of four square coasters, with rounded corners, illustrated and written in Serbian, a thin paper wrapper binding them together. The two of us sat down on the steps of our meeting room, while the
Women’s Sexual Power . . . Serbia-Style Read More »
When I walked into the dining room after an early morning sauna at the hotel’s opulent spa, the huge restaurant was mostly empty. There was one table in use by four members of our group, but since it was already full, I sat down at a new table nearby. I set down my things and
First Morning at the Hotel Villa Breg in Vršac, Serbia Read More »
An hour from now, a taxi will show up outside the lobby of my hotel to take me the bus that will take me, the organizers from the Incest Trauma Center and all 20+ participants of my workshop to the Hotel Villa Breg, “located on green slopes of the mountains” of Vrsac. There will be
Now It’s My Turn to Give Back to Them Read More »
Ever since I’ve arrived in Belgrade, the women of the Incest Resource Center have taken exquisite care of me. They have fed me, filled my mind and heart with stories, introduced me to their food, drinks, and culture and walked me all around their beautiful city. They’ve answered my endless questions (yes, I did have
I Scream for Ice Cream Read More »
I first heard about the Danube River when my father played one of his favorite records on our old turntable—the one with the arm bent like an elbow that released the disc onto the base in order to play it. It was the Blue Danube Waltz by Johann Strauss. That music would float up into
Strolling the Danube Read More »
