the treehouse effect

the treehouse effect

At Treehouse, Josiphet welcomed us in the morning with a warm smile and showed us all the rooms in the building, which was inspired by Spanish Catalan architect Gaudi. Pieces of bright, colorful glass were cemented into the white walls, which had been designed to spiral up in large curves, following the staircase up the maze-like tower.

stinking in france

stinking in france

My scalp was moist, my back was sticky, and a slippy layer of sweat covered all of my extremities, so going to sleep at night felt like laying down in a salty puddle, with two other cyclists bathing in their own grease, just inches away.

asante sana

asante sana

“Only Toyotas at the last rest stop, and a Toyota in front of us—do you see? All Kenyans drive Toyotas. I do not know why; it must be one of our Kenyan mysteries,” he concludes cheekily.

big city, tiny café

big city, tiny café

But take a step closer to the men under those wigs, salesmen armed with red plastic binders and smartphones, welcoming you to Vienna with breath rolling in cigarette stench, touting the latest “authentic” musical rip-off, and the illusion quickly fades: welcome to Vienna.

pont-à-celles, or, how i saw peter kernel

pont-à-celles, or, how i saw peter kernel

I questioned whether or not we were in a movie, in which I wondered whether the festival was real, whether Pont-à-Celles was real, whether we were real, whether the day had slipped from one dimension of time and space to another without our realizing it

automated tourist machines

automated tourist machines

They were all immaculately dressed in H’mong traditional garb, and the intricate pattens on their shirts and pants and the bright colors that flowed across their limbs seemed to move of their own accord in the darkness.

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