Every morning for the last four days a thick fog lay outside my window. I had seen this in Temuco, but it would be up and out of the way by midday. In Osorno, however, the low clouds stay down and around. Continue reading “The Osorno foggy way of selling you stuff or more about southern Chile.”
“Have you slept well?” people ask me when I stay in their homes during my research weeks in Buenos Aires. I usually sleep on couches or futons, sometimes I am lucky enough to get an actual bed with a very old mattress. I have always responded I slept well, that I woke in middle of the night because of a bad dream (and hence I conceal my backache). Continue reading “The (new) normal”
In the United States, I am a foreigner.
I was not born there, my parents are not US American* and my mother tongue is not English. When I first got to Georgia, I observed everything because I wanted to stop being a foreigner, at least in little practices. Continue reading “On being foreign”